My deer friend

A full-grown male sambar deer tied outside a beautiful cottage in the middle of a forest range – not a usual sight. That was the first thing I noticed when we had been to a beautiful forest range.

Though the deer was just in the vicinity, we weren’t allowed to visit him for any reason. They called him `violent’.

I couldn’t hold my curiosity of how a timid deer from the wild could turn violent with the humans. I found the best moment when everyone was asleep after the tired journey and I sneaked up to see him. He was gritting his teeth so hard that he was foaming from his mouth, making him look like a mad dog. Down below on the ground I spotted cigarette butts and an empty beer bottle. (“How dirty they keep place”, I thought.)

I was a little scared, but I gathered my guts and slowly touched his face. He wasn’t violent or anything that they said he was. He was so gentle and calm. His eyes were full of fear, that of a helpless captive. I wanted to let him loose then, in to the wild so that he’ll be what he’s meant to be. In a span of five minutes, we were friends and he liked me pampering him.

By then, the keeper of the cottage had spotted me and came to keep a watch. Seeing that the deer was calm next to me, he said that the deer had wandered off near the cottage a few weeks back. Ever since then, the tourists visiting the place acquainted him with cigarettes and beer (or anything alcoholic) just for fun. So, the deer was intoxicated most of the day, never ate, and was lost.

“How cruel,” I thought. I wanted to tie up those who did this to the deer. He was my friend now.

I couldn’t spend much time with him and in two days we were already on our way back home. I didn’t forget my deer friend. We made a call to the cottage the very next day to find out how he was. He had died just that morning of an overdose of alcohol.

Men are cruel to men and men are also cruel to animals. How fair is that?