Then all of a sudden, the green foliage
turns an ashen, gloomy, Grey. A fine dust is all over, covering everything.
Granite dust, says Manjunath sourly and points out to the naked face of rock, whitish
grey, fresh from the blast. As we look, the hillside blows out smoke, like tens of smokers
lighting up, and then the rumble of the dynamite, as the sound echoes across the low
valleys. "Quarrying is illegal. But who is to stop it? Even the local Panchayat
member is a partner in the company. For the elephants this blasting sounds are confusing.
It gives them the wrong signals."
We turn right after about 15 minutes of driving on the Banergahatta-Ragihalli road.
The freshly tarred road, courtesy the granite quarry owners, swoops down, meandering into
the valley, before climbing up and coming to an end in a cluster of mudbaked houses. A
Couple of the village elders come forward and greet Nagesh and Manjunath. They complain
about crop damage and the shortage of fireworks. Manjunath listens with concern.
From here on it is by foot. We have to reach higher ground in order to catch the trail of
the elephants. We move out in single file.
|
It is 4.30 in the evening now. It should
take them at least an hour to get to where we are. Even from our vantage point it is
difficult to spot the elephants among the dense cover.
The smoke rings of the firecrackers and the crashing sounds are clearly audible mixed with
the whooping sounds of the forest guards adding to the din. The smoke rings get closer and
suddenly Manjunath points to a clearing where we manage to catch a flash of black as the
foliage parts for the herd.
A single elephant needs more than 10sqkms of land for sustenance. They are known to travel
upto 600 kms in a single migration. A herd of 9 elephants from Banerghatta suddenly landed
up at Tirupati, where they are till today. They slide downhill on their rumps in single
file. A great sight. Only females with calf and solitary male tuskers are known to be
violent when provoked. We’ll have to move further over to the side of the hill to get
a closer view, says Manjunath. We move quickly along the shoulder of the hill and go down
further to a clearing. From here we can see a break in the corridor of foliage.
"Sssssssssssh!...say the villagers here they come. Craig gets in position with his
handycam and I squat behind him. And suddenly they burst into focus. With the sound of
cracking foliage, the herd is moving right in front of our eyes. More than twenty in all.
At a jogging pace, the larger ones in front and the calves in between. All in single file.
Like soldiers at a dress rehearsal.
And then it hit me. They were running like refugees. Not knowing what lies for them across
the border. But, sadly unlike refugees, they’ll be chased right back. By firecrackers
and forest guards of neighbouring Tamil Nadu. Little time to sleep and even less food to
eat.
The sheer thrill of seeing them in the wild on our very first watch is immediately washed
away by a feeling of helplessness for the elephants. The ride back into town is in silence
broken only by packs of rose ringed parakeets squawking away in the twilight. It is the
evening of Karthika Paurnami and the full moon rises over the hills of Banergahatta and
reflecting off the corridors of jungle where a herd of elephants are on the run.
I lean out of the window to look up at the moon before it disappears behind Bungler’s
real estate skyline,
The once familiar shape of the man on the moon looks a little different tonight.
It looks more like an elephant. |
