It’s My Jungle

Present Day - Sundarbans Tiger Reserve, West Bengal
‘What is that in the frame?’ – Shandilya asked me pointing at a small photo frame hung on the opposite wall of the drawing room.
‘Oh that!’ – I replied, handing over the cup of piping hot coffee to him – ‘It has an interesting story behind’
‘What is it?’ – He took the cup.
I took a pause while pouring my coffee and said – ‘This is the photograph of a handwritten phrase in an almost extinct aboriginal adivasi language. I had taken this snap last year.’
‘It seems to be written with a stick on the ground’ – Shandilya said and took his first sip, testing the almost simmering surface of dark brown coffee with his puckered lips.
‘Yeah. He left it written on the ground and disppeared.’
‘Who?’
‘I don’t know his name. No one knows. It’s an interesting story. A real incident!’ – I replied, rolling the hot cup between my palms.
‘Oh, on this bright Saturday morning I have all day to listen to stories in this lonely place.’ – Shandilya said sportingly.
‘Really?’ – I caught up on his enthusiasm – ‘Then let us sit in the verandah there and then I shall relate you the most amazing and incredible incident of my life.’
We both moved in the direction of the verandah.
Manohar Shandilya had reported yesterday evening and was going to share my quarter, which was big enough to house two semi-bachelors – as our wives were not living with us – easily. Last year only I was promoted as Deputy Field Director under the Directorate of Forest. Shandilya was transferred here as Assistant Field Director. Sundarbans National Park – in Bengali Shundorbon Jatiyo Udyan - is a Tiger Reserve and Biosphere Reserve of India over the Ganges Delta of India and Bangladesh. More than 200 Royal Bengal Tigers’ haven is the largest mangrove forest of the world and shares area with Bangladesh. Covering around 4000 KM2 area has not only mangroves but freshwater swamp forests too. Entire forest is criss-crossed with innumerous river channels running around marshy islands and large swamps.
My post and quarter was on the North-eastern edge of the forest. There are several places still in the dense forest which have not - and could not have - been visited by humans. Until that eventful day last year, at least I believed that only.
In the verandah - overlooking the green flat ground and river bank at a distance, both of us took our chairs in the pleasant sunlight of this third Saturday of November.
‘So, what about this interesting incident?’ – Shandilya prompted.
‘Then I was Assistant Field Director, deputed on Dobanki watchtower and trail office for two days. It was late evening’ – I tried to remember – ‘around 6 pm almost, last year from this day, when we got a tip that some poachers have been seen entering the forest from far Eastern edge of the forest. I took a local ranger and entered the dense forest on my jeep. But it could not take us far inside the forest as most of the place is marshy and with intercrossing water channels. We took a patrol motor boat and entered deep into the forest with our guns, binoculars, phones, walkie-talkies, water canteens, other night patrolling gear and dry fruits. I had directed one more team of four people from the opposite direction to enter the place so that we could easily locate the poachers before dark. As we were going, the place was echoing with natural sounds – chirping chorus of variety of birds returning home, consistent and diligent screeching, mating calls of crickets and occasional screams of Macaques. Suddenly the serene sound track was disturbed by an unnatural, brief but sharp noise – the report of a gunfire…’

One Year Back - Dense, Deep Sundarbans Forest
‘Are you out of your mind Surta?’ – Jernail growled – ‘This gunshot would definitely have alerted patrolmen and given away our location.
‘You don’t eat pork’ – Surta complained – ‘and I cannot kill a bird then tell me how do I arrange for the dinner?’
‘You blasted fool!’ – Nizam, second in command to Jernail interrupted – ‘you are killing birds with a rifle? Do you want me to bury your bruised ass in these marshes here?…..even in next era they wouldn’t find your fossil.’
‘We better keep walking and reach the spot before its dark. In three days we need to return also.’ – Bobby said, consulting his map.
They were eight in number, in two groups. All were seasoned poachers with photos of few of them in police’s most wanted charts. This group included Jernail – their leader – Nizam – second in command, Bobby – a wanted killer and Surta – a small time criminal. Menace written on all over their faces, they were moving in the direction of the denser forest where no man dares stepping. They were here to hunt for Royal Bengal Tiger for its various body parts and rare species of Olive Ridley Turtles for their shell, meat and eyes.
‘I remind again, do not shoot the tiger on sight. We need to capture him alive, blow his head to knock the big cat unconscious, skin it alive while it has still not come round and then kill it with final blow on head. A bullet wound will reduce the price of the skin by half’ – Jernail said.
They were walking under Bobby’s direction who was consulting the map. After an hour’s tiring trek marked with hops, slips and tip toeing in the tough marshes they reached the rendezvous. The other team was already waiting.
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The sound of gunshot was so clear that we instantly learnt that we were going in right direction after the poachers.
‘They will never take a boat to move through rivers’ – I said – ‘this is the known route. They are definitely traversing though dense marshes and mudflats. It will be really difficult to catch them unless we step on the ground too.’
Bunu – the local ranger who was driving the motor boat nodded agreement to my opinion and said – ‘After dark falls, ants and mosquitoes will eat us alive and if we are spared then cobras, tigers and Russels vipers are waiting.’
‘Don’t worry. We have suitable clothes, herbs, medicines and tools to handle them but if you wish you can go back. I will go alone.’
Bunu opened his mouth to voice his disagreement then shut it and his facial expressions changed. I followed his gaze and at its end found a boat anchored by the river bank. He turned the motorboat in boat’s direction and said – ‘This is their entry point. See several footprints in the mud.’
‘ and a cigarette butt to seal your inference as truth’ – I added.
We left the motorboat and stepped on to the ground, following footprints. I walkie-talkied the other team about our finding and position. After a few meters, footprints disappeared leaving us lost for a while when Bunu got my attention to the trail of crushed leaves. I had to switch on the flash light on low beam as broad leaves of the trees had connived with the dark to befall early. We began following the trail with Bunu leading. I was behind him with my handgun in one hand and small hunter’s torch in the other. I was ready for any kind of mortal danger from any direction. One year jungle training and five years of experience was with me as support.
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‘What is that?’ – Jernail said. The other seven halted. It was a small shack constructed by dried leaves and tree branches. In the small window a dim light was flickering.
‘Someone live here? In this Godforsaken place? Why?’ – The other team’s leader Dhirubhai exclaimed.
‘Let us find out. This could be a place to rest for a while and refresh but be very careful. They could be other poachers too.’ – Jernail said and signaled Surta to lead. Reluctantly, Surta did.
There was a half naked young adivasi lady and a small boy in the shack like hut. Lady’s black skin was shimmering in the dancing flame of the burning fat. They both jumped as the unwelcomed intruders entered the hut. The lady clasped the boy to her bosom with terror and asked in a strange language with equally strange voice – ‘Who are you?’
‘What?’ – Bobby voiced his incomprehension.
‘Hee hee, boss’ – Chhaggu – another poacher in the team jeered in the most lewd manner – ‘she is saying, please take me one by one not together. Hee hee hee hee’
His frightening laughter made the poor hut dwellers tremble of terror but laughter instantly stopped when Jernail supplied a tight slap on Chhaggu’s exposed cheek – ‘You fool, tell her to prepare us something to eat and ask her who else lives here. May be her husband or family head is around.’
‘She is asking us who we are’ – Jhau said. He had spent years in this forest and he was their guide too. He was a little familiar to lady’s dialect. He tried addressing the lady and stammered in his effort. Lady’s reply proved that she understood. With a burning rage she screamed some words.
Jhau translated – ‘She telling us to scram before her man comes and cut us all into pieces.’
‘You slut! Don’t you know who we are? Before your man comes we eight would be your men one by one bitch!’ – Jernail growled, stepped forward and slapped the lady so hard that she and the boy hit the muddy ground. The boy started crying and lady’s small cloth slipped to reveal one of her breast.
‘My….my….’ – Jernail said – ‘it’s been long I have seen such fine and young pigeons!’
‘Boss’ – Chhaggu complained with his hand still on his bluish cheeck – ‘You slap me and then yourself repeat the same…..’
‘Abey Chu*****’ (You damned fool) – Jernail winked – ‘Then the packing was not opened. Now it is irresistible. She is our first game.’
All of them laughed. Lady, sensing their intentions tried to run through the other door of the hut but Jernail grabbed her from behind and said – ‘Tie the boy with this pole and secure this black fairy on the floor. I will be the first.’
They all instantly complied.
The lady had fainted and came round three times during her one and a half hour rape. Bobby, Jhau and Nizam – for reason unknown - did not participate.
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We had lost the trail again. After sometime the crushed dried leaves ended and we were standing in darkness totally lost.
‘What to do now?’ – I asked myself.
Bunu suggested – ‘If we find the way to the other bank of the stream across this patch of forest and try to move in the forest further by following the river bank then we can reach the place where tiger density is higher. They have probably gone there.’
He had a point. I said – ‘Fine idea.’ And took out the compass from the jacket pocket.
Consulting the needle, we took the trail in the Eastern direction with the faint light of torches leading us.
It took us around one hour to reach the said river bank. It was dark and river looked like another place on another planet in the dim light of the stars adorning the clear open sky. We changed direction there and followed the rough, irregular, undulating river bank. The soothing sound of running water fell on the ears pleasantly.
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He was crying with tears rolling down his black rough cheeks while tending to his badly bruised wife turning in agony. He had applied some herbs and gave her some shrubs to eat. Now she had slept. The boy had already told him how those eight demons had come and assaulted mother. He listened and while listening kept changing his clothes. Now he was wearing a shabby short loincloth, old but strong boots and a dirty old rag around his forehead. He picked up the rough knife and small axe whose sharp edge glimmered in the moonlight just like his black, strong and short stumpy body. He told the boy to stay put and look after his mother and that he would be back by morning. Then he disappeared into the dense forest where those poachers had moved on after spoiling his woman.
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The forest was denser here and without flash light they could not move an inch on the ground. One wrong step and they could slip in to a marsh helplessly watching their slow death by sinking and asphyxiating. A man cries like a crushed cat while sinking or drowning. The trail was so narrow and rough that they could only move in single file with a distance of some five to seven feet from each other. This distance became the reason for Chaggu to be his first victim.
A noose of thick dry vine fell around his neck and tightened so instantly that Chaggu’s cry died inside his throat and his body zoomed up off the ground hanging loosely by the vine-rope. He died instantly as his neck bone broke even before his head struck the branch of the tall tree. None of them could imagine for a while that now they were just seven left.
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My walkie-talkie stuttered and the familiar voice came over – ‘Sir, where are you?’
It was the other team’s leader.
‘We are on the eastern side of the river bank.’ – I said then asked – ‘What is your position?’
‘Sir, we are moving towards you from the opposite direction. The tiger trail falls between us. It is likely that these poachers are somewhere between us in the span of this seven kilometers marsh. I guess we shall encounter them after, say, in two hours or so.’
‘Listen’ – I cautioned them – ‘If you see them don’t engage. They could be dangerous and heavily armed. Follow them quietly until we reach too. Then we shall draw a strategy to get them somehow. Is that clear?’
‘Perfectly Sir. We shall move and follow quietly. Over and out.’
‘If these poachers are not moving towards tiger trail then we are going to spend our whole night sleepless in this forest provided we don’t come across any wild thing looking for food.’
‘Even these tigers have a tendency to prefer human flesh over a docile deer.’ – Bunu simply contributed to my apprehensions.
But we didn’t stop walking.
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First Surta thought that some wild bug had bitten him on the neck. Probably a scorpion. Then he choked on his own blood that flooded his throat and gushed into his stomach. A sharp sting of gastric acids hit his inner stomach walls. His hands jerked up to his throat and grabbed the long hard stick that entered and struck in his throat. The make shift rough arrow had silently entered by his pointed sharp end in his throat, pierced through to the other side and stuck. His rifle slipped off his grip and hit the soft ground sans noise. Coughing violently and unable to cry, a slowly dying Surta, fell into the river and started dithering in agony.
The group had left the density of leafy trees and came to walk along the river bank in the same single file manner without bothering to look back. This sudden assault created a little rout among them.
‘What’s that?’ – Jernail queried in a panic stricken tone.
‘Where is Chaggu?’ – Nizam voiced his sudden finding that they were abruptly six left out of eight.
Entire group, plagued with confusion and terror, started looking around in every direction as if fearing another arrow coming flying towards them. Worried for their dear lives they didn’t bother trying to save a still splashing Surta embracing his slow painful death.
Jernail controlled his senses first – ‘Get down everybody. Now! He is hunting us.’
They all obeyed without delay then Dhirubhai asked – ‘Who? That black furnace’s husband?’
‘I guess so.’ – Jernail replied – ‘He has followed us here and now is avenging his wife.’
‘What to do?’
‘Two by two we need to run towards those two dense patches of trees opposite each other.’ – Jernail signaled in one direction – ‘The arrow has come from this direction. He is there somewhere. We have to divert his focus. At a time two of us will get up and run as fast as possible in opposite direction so that he has difficulty in deciding his target. Dhiru! You and Nizam go first. Then Bobby and Jhau will go. Lastly I and Joban will come.’
‘Okay.’ – Dhiru said and signaled Nizam to get ready. With a slow one, two and three they got up and raced in opposite direction bending as close and parallel to ground as possible.
How right was Jernail! Dhiru and Nizam never thought that they were being used by his mingy mind. Before Nizam could reach the trees a long, invisible needle swooshed through the air and plunged into the small of Nizam’s back. He fell on his mouth on the ground with a muffled cry, his body contracted in long stretches for a while and then he relaxed still on the ground – still with death by poison.
Even if a two years old dart tip soaked in the fluid exuded by the rare frog species - Phyllobates Terribilis after exposing the animal to the heat of fire punctures your skin, you die horribly like this.
Dhiru managed to reach the shelter of trees but understood Jernail’s strategy of using them as bait.
Dhiru shouted from his vantage point – ‘Jernail you bastard! You……’
Then all was quiet. Dhiru abruptly left his sentence incomplete.
‘Strange!’ – Jernail thought. What Jernail couldn’t have thought that he had not noticed that his deduction of their hunter’s position was absolutely wrong. The arrow that had took Surta didn’t come from the front direction but from the opposite direction from inside the patch of trees in which Dhirubhai had managed to take shelter. Dhiru, actually ran into their hunter. When he saw Dhiru running towards him, he hid behind a tree and waited. Dhiru approached into the shelter of trees and shouted at Jernail when he plunged his knife into Dhiru’s nape to the hilt. Knife’s long sharp blade exited from Dhiru’s lower jaw. His dead body slowly slipped off the knife and fell with a thud in their hunter’s feet leaving the knife in his hand. He slipped the knife back in his long boot without wiping his wife’s one of the rapist’s blood.
Now, four were left.
Suddenly muted Dhiru’s voice gave clear signal to Jernail. He turned on his back, took position and fired thrice in the direction of Dhiru’s voice. Two bullets plunged into a tree trunk and one travelled through the air kissing their hunters eyebrow. A thin trail of blood ran down his cheek.
Close enough!
‘Boss what to do now’ – Joban whispred in distress.
‘Crawl slowly towards the dense forest now. Do not lift your head more than necessary. He is fatally dangerous and clever like a fox and filled with rage. He is unstoppable. He will come behind us. I and Joban crawl first. You two stay. After ten meters we will turn round and give you cover fire. Then you two get up and run as fast as you can. Got it?’
‘Sure’
Jernail and Joban crawled ahead and turned with their rifles in position. Jernail shouted – ‘Bobby! Jhau! Now!’
Bobby and Jhau got up and ran. Jernail and Joban emptied their half magazine in the air to cover-fire them. Entire forest reverberated with deafening sound of gun shots. They could not see that object coming flying in a parabola cutting the air. Only Bobby could know because the sharp axe had cut through his mid rib and remained there. With a terrifying scream he lost his balance and came in the way of cover fire. His body riddled with bullets jumped off the ground and fell down.
But the three remaining were successful in entering the dense forest.
‘We have to be together and go back.’ – Jernail said.
‘Back? Why?’
‘We have to go back to that hut, abduct the boy and his mother to control him otherwise he will kill us all. He is following us now. We have to hurry up’
They reached back to the hut. It was quiet and pale yellow light was still flickering. From the small window they saw that lady was sleeping on the floor and boy was sitting beside her head, all awake.
With a sordid smile Jernail stepped into the hut. Boy saw him. His eyes widened with fear and surprise.
Jernail said – ‘I will enjoy her once more after killing that beast.’ Hardly had he finished than sky fell on his head.
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Gun shots had given us their clear position. We reached the spot and saw the blood shed.
We followed the trail of crushed leaves and reached the hut.
There was a lot of commotion inside the hut.
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Before dying Jernail could only understand that their hunter had anticipated their next move and had managed to reach the hut before them to wait on them.
He had secured himself with the roof of the hut and when Jernail entered the hut he jumped over him. The axe that he had recovered from Bobby’s corpse was now plunged in Jernail’s head. Jhau and Joban turned to flee for their lives. Jhau legs had already turned into jelly due to fear. He pounced on him and wrung his neck by 270 degrees. Jhau died with a hiccup.
Blind with fear and running desperately for life, Joban ran into me. I took him on gun point and shouted a warning for approaching black man too.
He halted in his place.
‘Why did you kill all these men’ – Bunu asked him in his language.
He replied, then took a stick from the ground and wrote something in his language. I tried to read that when seeing the chance he sprang like a panther and disappeared in the jungle.
I took out my camera and clicked the snap of what was written on the ground.
I arrested Joban.

Present Day - Sundarbans Tiger Reserve, West Bengal
‘So, How did you like the story?’ – I asked Shandilya.
‘Quiet sad and strange. Those scoundrels met their right fate. I am not happy for Joban. He deserved the equally horrible death like his friends.’
‘He is enjoying second year of his 10 years sentence in jail’ – I said standing up to get some more coffee.
‘But what did he write in the ground?’ – Shandilya finally asked.
I turned and said, smiling – ‘It’s my jungle’

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