Bang!! The twin barrels of the Winchester smoked after having coughed the projectile which was now deeply ensconced in the soft flesh of the once - magnificent tiger as it lay on the grass, writhing in an all consuming agony, breathing its last, the grotesque wound in its “precious” hide spurting hot crimson blood onto the ground. The hand holding the weapon of murder hadn’t flinched one bit. The murderer grinned, full of pride in his kill.
I have firm belief in the fact that God had made all living beings equal. And I dare call it a fact, just in case you missed. A long (very, very) time back, “we” started breaking off from the pack. The process was to be called “evolution” millions of years later - after we started making sense of the once-nonsensical sounds we all yapped. But back then, Caveman and Cavewoman used to hunt animals down in order to feed themselves and their Cavechildren. Basic instincts – fair enough. During one such encounter, Caveman must have gotten shredded by a Saber-tooth, which he thought was just a grossly obese cat with two disproportionately big buck-teeth. Cavewoman, seeing this must have suggested to him to keep his ego under check and use a “weapon” instead of going in stupidly bare handed. And thus began “hunting” as we know it today. But not quite. Somewhere along the way, a rogue genome ticked off in Caveman for all eternity the urge to kill not just for sustenance but also just for the heck of it. By the time Caveman graduated to Homo Sapiens, he with that incredible machine whirring in his head had devised tools - read guns, spears and what not - with which he could comfortably keep his cowardice under check and kill or maim any of his former kin from a safe distance. And now that he could do that, thought and reason gave way to irrational indulgence.
We all sympathise with the Japanese for the WW2 misfortune that befell them and the after-effects of which continue to torment a part of them to this day. We also hold them in great awe at their Phoenix-like rise from Ground Zero. But all this notwithstanding, their treatment of such innocent creatures that they almost seem angelic – Dolphins – makes one wonder whether they deserve all that goodwill. Dolphin Killing is a tradition that’s been followed for more than 400 years and it is one of the most dastardly and gruesome acts of cruelty one can ever witness. It is as at home in Peru, Hawaii and some other Asian countries as it is in Japan. But though some of the other countries have rightly deemed the tradition illegal, it continues to enjoy legal sanction here. The Japanese Government has even fixed an upper limit of 3000 dolphins per year to be killed, which by the way, is blatantly flouted. The modus operandi goes as follows. “Fishermen” set out in motorboats and when they spot a pod of dolphins, they confuse and scare the animals and drive them into a narrow cove. Then the entrance is sealed shut by nets. The killers wait for a day, by which time the cetaceans would have calmed down and their hide softened. Then they begin their drunk-in-mirth spree of spearing the trapped animals, slashing their necks and stabbing their necks with metal rods. Reports indicate that the animals can take as much as 6 excruciating minutes as they thrash around and their life force slowly, torturously slips away. A lucky few are whisked away to dolphinariums across the globe and thus fetch big bucks. Does this seem like entertainment to any of you?
We screamed “Murder!!!” when the Jews were snuffed out by the millions in gas chambers during the Holocaust; when millions of Japanese were vaporized by Little Boy and Fat Man. But why do we stand mute spectators to this barbarism? “Official” statistics put the number of dolphins killed over the past two decades at 400,000. And imagine that this has been going on for more than 4 grand centuries. Do we have an answer?
Cut to Spain. Hordes of fanatic football fans swaying to the "dance" of their idols, intoxicatingly beautiful women and … dead bulls. Strong, beautiful and fine animals once - corpses with banderillas sticking out all over them in a queerly beautiful manner now. Bullfighting is something which the Spaniards consider their cultural identity. But seriously, is it worth it? In Spain, my head would be rolling on the ground by now. A Bullfight is an elaborate sequence of events that proceeds from start to end in three phases. The Matador waving his cape first annoys the bull and causes it to charge endlessly, futilely while the fleet-footed Matador keeps side-stepping the behemoth. This is called the “Matador’s Dance”. This continues till the bull gets tired. Then a pack of “Picadors” charge on horses towards the spent, harassed animal and stab it repeatedly with banderillas which are colourful wooden staffs with metal spikes at their ends. After the bull is barely able to lift itself after this torture of the worst degree, the Matador serves the coup de grâce with a sword, finally ending the animal’s wretched misery. And to top it, they claim that it’s an honour for the bulls to die in a bullfight. Did the bulls themselves say that? I wonder. Only the strongest bulls are chosen to die thus. Another thing about the fights is that the Matador and the Picadors have a protective shelter ready in the embarassing event of a bull getting an upper hand over them. That’s makes the event so unfair. And we thought the Matador was an epitome of masculinity.
We form committees to protect us from ourselves. The NHRC is an example. But who would protect these innocent animals from our evil hands? We are just powerless, pathetic creatures when it comes to raw brawn, who can’t last even a few minutes against any animal even half our size in a fair (read bare - handed) fight. But it’s that thing whirring in our heads that has made all the difference. Anything that stands as even a minor threat must be purged immediately. Must be expunged even if it is completely beyond the realm of rational thought. But apart from this selfish motive, don’t we need to kill them for fun, for food, to mollify our deities? This thought process has already cast so many species to the permanent waste-basket we call "Extinction" during Man’s ruthless reign over the planet. Many more will still be, of course unless we slam the brakes and introspect. In my opinion, we would have been better off roaming around in fig leaves, beating each other on our heads with clubs. We talk of democracy, of liberty, of the right to do, say anything as long as it doesn’t infringe upon the fundamental rights of another “free” individual. But we fail to extend that concept to the rest of the planet’s faunal diaspora. We poach elephants for their ivory and tigers for their beautiful hide. Such a pity human skin isn’t half as valuable. We encroach upon their homes and drive them into increasingly constricted spaces. We stone dogs and render them invalids if they so much as bark at us. Religion and tradition are strong reasons for us to sacrifice animals. But we fail to think if our God would really take it kindly to his beloved creations being slaughtered for his own sake. We kill them for our recreation, which just happens to be the most despicable of all reasons. Ok, reason is a very bad word to use in the present context, but my limited vocabulary can only afford as much. Nothing can be reason enough to kill anything. Why can’t we keep our hands to ourselves? Why can’t we spare the poor creatures who can’t even utter a word in their defence? The once-beautiful Eden has been reduced to an over-crowded wasteland. And we don’t seem to be able to share our increasingly limited resources with our co-inhabitants. Man’s selfishness has cost the planet enough. It’s high time we stopped and spared a thought for our kin. If nothing else, it’s a moral responsibility that we all are obliged to despatch.
