Even The Donkey Knows

It was a bright morning: a day which was both a beginning and an end. The year’s last month met its last day, the first of the next was to see its beginning.

In the green lively Jungle of Pashuvan, a pack of wolves gathered to hunt, led by Greyroi – the revered leader, whose skill was no match and who was held in esteem among all the wolves of India.

“In the south of this patch of territory, on the borders of this noble pack’s land, is a herd of seven sheep” Greyroi declared “It is clear that these are wild and do not belong to Man. Hence, we are at full liberty to hunt this prey which has so willingly ventured into our hands. And now before we march, remember: the cubs shall not attack. They will only ambush the escaping animal. With the permit of mine, only shall the pack charge. And so, march on, hunt on, O Pack of Pashuvan!”

As the wolves surrounded the sheep, and at Greyroi’s signal, attacked them, a voice rang through the air: a voice which belonged to neither the Wolves nor the Sheep – voice which barked and howled in a style of war, as fifty red dholes charged at the pack.

Greyroi stood still. “Hold your fire” he growled at his pack, and they slowly arranged themselves around him. As his eyes shone with hatred, some of the dholes seemed to think that they had attacked the wrong pack. This wolf was not to be challenged. But the dhole who stood at the head, barked and charged. Greyroi’s patience was carried away. He attacked. The battle was begun!

As dholes and wolves fought around them, the two leaders attacked each other… “Fight me you coward” Greyroi growled angrily “It seems true that the barking dogs never bite”

Around him his wolves were falling. By the time I finish him off here, my pack will be dead, Greyroi thought. If I lead him to the village the villagers will attack him. I can then… yeah! It will end easily that way. A fight here would take days…

As the dhole attacked him, Greyroi sped towards the village followed by the dhole. True enough the villagers attacked them two. But Greyroi’s vast experience led him to escape them. He fled through a gap between two huts. And as he went, he heard a voice from one of the huts: “You are a useless donkey” a man was shouting at his servant.

He returned to the forest and joined the battle. His presence caused great fervor among the wolves. But the absence of their leader seemed to change nothing for the dholes. So Greyroi turned back towards the village. He attacked the injured dhole and, after killing him, dragged his body back to the scene of the fight. Now the dholes were defeated. They fled in all directions as wolves attacked and killed them.

The Pack of Pashuvan gathered around their clever leader – Greyroi was their hero of the day.

Some kilometers away; Sheraj, the King of the Pashuvan Jungle was sleeping soundly. His golden majestic mane, his yellow-orange body stretching comfortably. The kingly majesty shone on his face; mighty and great, brave and majestic, as he was to the world, ruler of the jungles, yet benevolent, humble and modest to himself…

As he slept like each day, a voice hit his ears. A frightened voice cried: “Dad! Not this thing! It looks big!”

Sheraj had a special talent which others of the jungle lacked: He could identify a human’s voice and he could at any time too – even when in deep sleep. It would hit him like an alarm – he knew that humans had much more means to hunt than had he of any other of the Jungle People. And so, now he identified that voice, frightened though it seemed, and woke up at once. He would not have humans killing him or even worse his subjects.

As he looked around, he heard a terrified yell from behind a bush. So that is where man is? Sheraj thought…

He roared. It was of his habit to threaten when threatened, and if he was attacked, he would attack too – but Sheraj hated killing for no reason: hunting for food was one thing, killing for fun was an evil.

Closer as the lion observed, there was not one human – there were two. One who seemed to be a professional poacher, and another who was a kid of around eleven, and to whom belonged, most probably, the voice.

After he roared, the two humans seemed to be frozen for some seconds: and then, the boy took to his heels. The professional poacher still pointed his gun at Sheraj. So Sheraj roared and approached the poacher. He too ran away, yelling his head off at the young boy, “Why the devil did you yell, you useless donkey!”

The last word caught Sheraj unaware. He had been the king of the jungle in the since years, since the age of three, and yet he had only once heard a human mother call her son “My brave lion!”. But quite many times had he observed humans using donkey as a simile against one another. I might be a great king, Sheraj thought, but I do not know the answer to this mystery. What has the donkey got, which makes him so popular. Deep in thought Sheraj sat, when he heard a voice above him. Up above in the blue sky, Eagle flew with message. He dived down and said, “O great king! The dholes launched another offensive but our wolf pack has defeated them for good, mainly due to the bravery of Greyroi. However, Greyroi suggests a meeting to discuss a method to prevent external attacks.”

“Right he is!” said Sheraj “If one pack of dholes has been eliminated, another will not take time to reach our territory. Wandering things, they are! Inform all the Jungle People that tonight shall gather the Jungle Mahasabha.”

“As your majesty wishes” bowed the eagle.

“Hey Eagle!” Sheraj roared “I have a question. You have navigated the skies and flew above the seas. You have been to every land on earth. You have seen the ways of Mankind. You among us all know most about Man. You know of their habits and talks and their language. Now the time has come that you use some of your vast experience to answer a question of this ignorant king of the lands. I ask you, Eagle, why does man call each other donkeys, but not lions or eagles of wolves. What is so great about the donkeys that makes them so popular?”

“If I speak honestly, the most knowledgeable in this matter would be the donkey himself. Our jungle is home to only one lone old donkey, who has evaded getting hunted by the dholes, since the day he stepped into the forest. I know a bit about the answer, for I have watched man from above. But Femus, our Jungle’s only donkey, knows much better, for he has lived on the farms of Mankind. He has worked for them. Who else can answer your question better, O King?”

“True you speak Eagle. Tonight, the Mahasabha shall know two things at the end – How we protect ourselves from attacks, and why is the Donkey so well-known. Fly with my message, Eagle. Goodbye”

 

Night dawned upon the Jungle, and all the animals hastened to gather around the Rock Throne of the King. Greyroi, representing the wolves; the Head Hyena, from the hyenas; the Eagle, representing the birds; the Monkey-King; the Black Panther, representing the cats; and Femus the Donkey: all lined around Sheraj, on his Rock. Down below, all the animals were lined perfectly and disciplined. With a great roar Sheraj began the meeting –

“We meet this night, to discuss two things. The security of the Jungle and the fame of the Donkey. We shall begin this session by the second issue. Why, I ask, is the donkey so popular with mankind? Why do they refer to each other as donkeys? Your opinion Greyroi?”

“Great King of the Jungle” Greyroi began “It so happens that I too heard a man call another a donkey, this morning, during the Final Battle of Dholes. But I regret that I have no answer to this question!”

“Nor do I” said Sheraj “Hyena?”

“’Cuz donkey tasty!” Hyena blurted out

Sheraj gave him a threatening look and then continued “Eagle?”

“All I say is, ask the donkey himself!”

“I shall act upon your advice. Why is this so, O Donkey of the Lands?”

“Your Most Respectable and Honorable Majesty” Femus the Donkey began “This is because I am brainless, unintelligent, silly, stupid and what not!”

“Then Man is right in calling himself so!” said Sheraj “Could have given themselves a better name, is not it?”

“Oh no!” said Femus “Mankind, in calling themselves Donkeys are praising themselves more than they could by calling themselves Humans”

“And why do you say so, Femus?”

“Because Man kills Man. But Donkey never kills Donkey. Even the Brainless, Silly, Stupid Donkey knows not to spill the blood of his brothers. But the Smart, Intelligent, Genius Human does not! I pity Man! Over the years Man has continued to become more violent than ever.”

“Oh no!” said the Eagle “I have travelled the world and I have seen that man has taken a way towards Liberty, Equality and Fraternity. They have adopted democracy. Liberty means freedom. Equality is what our king shows towards us. Literally justice. And Fraternity is brotherhood. You say they are worse now than in the past. But then they had been inequal and chained by the chains of dictatorship over the past centuries. Look what they are now. Free developing countries. They, as I told you have even a declaration of human rights.”

“Do they?” asked Femus, acting as if he was surprised “But if you did actually observe the world like I have done, you would not be so ignorant! In the past years, wars have become more ferocious that ever. Today as we talk, and the World of Men celebrates New Year’s Eve, Gaza and Ukraine burn alive. Hundreds of children die. And it is not other than Man who does this. In his quest for power and influence, Man kills his brothers and his nephews, and Man cares not for the hundreds of thousands of deaths he causes. Blinded by his love for power, Man forgets that he is a Mortal, and Man forgets that he is killing thousands of innocent children, women, seniors and able-bodied men who could change the world. And he calls this defense. Man is worse than Donkey, Man is worse than Dhole, Man is worse than Hyena, Man is worse than the King of Snakes. At this rate, Man might as well put an end to his Intelligent, Genius race.”

This speech of Femus the Donkey left the Jungle People silent. It was greeted by silence. And the King of The Jungle, Sheraj, spoke up, his voice filled with remorse:

“Donkey you have not only answered our donkey-ish question, but also our question of Security. If Man is ungrateful and disrespectful of his intelligence, we the Unintelligent Animals will not be ungrateful of our Abilities. We shall reward you, O Femus! You and the Black Panther are the Joint Ministers of Peace of The Jungle of Pashuvan from this day on. We shall sign peace with the Dholes. From this New Year, we shall Hate No Being. We shall Fight No War. And Eagle, you will carry out a second voyage around the World. If Man wants to Perish Through War, we do not!”

“Pashuvan, Where Live the Brave yet Non-Violent” sang the Jungle People.

 

The sun rose on New Year’s Day. The Ministry of Peace had signed a treaty with the Dholes. And Eagle left for his second voyage around the world. One place caught his attention. The haunting scene of destruction, and obliteration, of devastation and ruin, lay before him. Over hundreds of kilometers, lay decaying bodies of innocent people. Bodies which had no one who could bury them. Dogs fed on those bodies. Hospitals were being burned alive. Man was truly the Worst of Beings.

The Animals had learnt to keep peace, but Man Never Did.