Tiger

I lived in a forest till before the mating season. Humans give forests many names, but to me it was simply my home. The ground was cold and covered with snow, and the trees were tall, and had sharp leaves that pierced my fur, but during the night I would snuggle with my mother and my siblings and go to sleep. I didn't have a father. My father died before I was born. He went out hunting one day, and Mother told him to come back early. I think she would have been happier if he had come late than never come back at all.1

I was not the hunter type. When I was a child, I was absolutely terrified of the other animals, even those smaller than me. My mother poked and prodded me and begged me to hunt, but I was largely dependent on my brothers and sisters for survival. My mother explained to me that the climate was too cold for animals to be in abundance, and almost everyone was a carnivore, so I would have to stop sharing my siblings' prey. I very rudely told her that she shouldn't have had us then.2

The head of the tribe realized that I was a problem child. I was exiled, and this only fed more bitterness to my heart. I became tough. I learnt to scrounge animals out even when there were none in sight. Sometimes I was so ravenous with hunger that I even fed on my fellow carnivores. Earlier the sight of blood made me sick, but I only had to think of the way my tribe had left me to fend for myself, and my blood would boil for that of others. I think when I was tearing apart those foxes, I was actually thinking of my family-it was only a technical term for me now-back home. 3

When I was seven, I was allowed back into the tribe. Though I had learnt to hunt, it was too late. I had already established my position has an outsider. The others still poked fun at me, telling me how my ability to hunt was useless, and how I would never be accepted into the tribe. The latter was nothing but the bitter truth, but the former enraged me. I once remember murdering an entire fox clan in cold blood-and eating it by myself, though custom dictated that if the amount of prey was large, it should be shared with the entire tribe. Had not they told me to learn hunting myself and not share others' prey? Well, shouldn't the same apply to them?4

I had Naria with me. As a child she was arrogant, now grown up she was tame and introverted. She had retained her beauty though. I had been attracted to her before my exile, after the exile, I was not so sure that I loved her, but she had changed too. She did not poke fun at me, and when I refused to ask help when, say I was injured, owing to my pride, she would quietly dip her paws into cold water from the nearby stream, and rub them on my wounds. This piqued the other tigers because she rarely paid any attention to them.5

I thought about it-what did I have to give to her? If she became my mate, she would not only be estranged from her family and friends, but she would also not find any solace in the arms of her in-laws, lest she got widowed. I did not have a proper shelter to offer her either-I knew she would die of frostbite if she attempted to sleep out in the open. All she would have is my temper and my arrogance.6

But one night, Naria came to me when I was drinking from the stream, and quietly professed her love for me. She told me she was willing to bear any difficulty if she had me by her side. I looked into her wide blue eyes, and I knew I had to have her.7

The night mating season began, Jem challenged me to venture into the outskirts of the forest-the very area where my father was last spotted-and come back without so much as a single scratch on my body. Naria was terrified and begged me not to go. She promised me that she would run away from the tribe, as long as I did not go there. But my pride got the better of me. I accepted his challenge. The last thing I saw was Naria's sad eyes before going ahead. I never looked back.8

When I finally reached the boundary of the forest, I was exhilarated. I was about to turn back, when out of nowhere, a group of men jumped out of the trees and caught hold of me. I growled at them, and tried to tear at their arms, but they shot a tranquilizer into my back. I howled loudly, as if to signal Naria that I would never be coming back. As intense pain shot up my spine, I collapsed and blacked out.9

When I woke up, I was in a cage. When I tried to claw against the steel bars, I ended up breaking them. I howled piteously, my arrogance robbed from me. I was hurt, I was afraid, and I was angry. During the first few days, I kept howling and clawing at anyone who came near the cage, despite the fact that my paws were of no use anymore. The humans whipped me, but I refused, trying to retain some of my self-esteem.10

But then I realized that it was no use rebelling against the humans. My claws were gone-even if Naria accepted me, she would never be able to get enough prey for both of us, or any litter that we might have. I would lose my tough image-the tribe could openly bully and ridicule me, and I would not be able to defend myself. I was nothing but maimed, both in body and soul. I became docile, and instead of growling, I would purr softly. The humans stopped whipping me and started behaving kindly.11

One of the kind humans was The One-Eyed Man. He always brought me fresh meat, instead of the leftover bacon and chicken that was given to me. He even got fox meat once, but was scolded by his uppers, probably for not doing his job. It was confusing living in the human world. Once, a human had dared to venture near our cave. My mother had ripped his guts apart ferociously-it was more a display of her temper, her grief for my father, than her hunting skills-and that was that. I never saw any more again. I was intelligent enough to know that their customs would be confusing, as they were 'different', but it was their language that puzzled me. Some had sweet voices, and others had gruff ones. No matter how hard I tried I could not understand the human language. 12

While most of the humans were kind, there was one, Gruff Man, who did not like me. One night, when everyone else was dining in their wooden caves, he crept up to me, and said something in a dark tone. I could not understand him, but I could see in his eyes that he meant me no good. He opened my cage, but I remained inside. I thought he was trying to test whether I would run away, or stay inside the cage obediently. When I did not come outside, he whipped me. Yet I remained inside. This continued till One-Eyed Man came outside, saw what Gruff Man was doing to me, and began whipping Gruff Man with the same whip he was using with me. I relished the look on Gruff Man's face. Then One-Eyed Man patted my fur, and pushed me into and locked me in the cage.13

I began to love One-Eyed Man. He brought me fresh meat, he was kind, and he protected me from Gruff Man. Once, he even let me out of my cage, and let me run in the snow. He whistled to call me back, and when I did, I tried to stand up on my hind legs and hug him. Not once did the thought cross my mind why had they trapped me in the first place. In my mind's view, One-Eyed Man was not part of the group of hunters that had caught me before. In my mind's view Gruff Man was the chief.14

One morning, One-Eyed man led me into a house, and went outside. I was puzzled. Why had he left me alone in the house? It must be because he doesn't like it when you sleep in the cold, I thought. I smiled. One-Eyed Man cared so much about me.15

I started growing impatient. A loud noise was coming from above. I stood up on my hind legs, and was shocked. Naria-I could recognize my beloved anywhere-lay on the table, her head dropped to the left so that it was facing me. There was a look of anguish in her eyes. She was undoubtedly dead. Gruff Man was using a strange contraption to remove her fur.16

I panicked. Surely, Gruff Man had cheated One-Eyed Man! I went to the transparent glass window, and stood up again, my paws tapping loudly to attract One-Eyed Man's attention. One-Eyed man turned, and smiled at me. It was the most chilling smile I had seen in my life- a feeling of utmost dread slid down my throat.17

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