NAYANTARA THE LITTLE DEER

VI 

 THE FIRST LESSON

Nayantara was drowsing under the shade of an old tree.  Close by, frolicked her brother and sister, who were a little older than her, but not too much. They had just finished their lessons with their mother, and had learned all about the smile of the sun and its setting.  She had snuggled up to her mother, while hearing snatches of words like “orange and gold”, “ball of fire”, and “the heat of the sun during the early part of the morning and at midday.”  Now, her brother and sister were allowed to play running leap frog, and twinkling their eyes when any one tried to trip the other.  Mother smiled at them from time to time, while she gathered Nayantara closer to her, but all the time with her ears perked up for the least sound of a dreaded animal. Nothing happened, the brother and sister played on, while  a little breeze moved the tall grass near the water’s edge.

Nayantara’s mother nudged her gently with her paw and said, “Now, my  little one, don’t you think its time you begun your lessons?  You are growing up and you should begin to know, what this forest of ours is like.”

Nayantara looked at her lazily, and said “Mother, I don’t want to know, I like to be the way I am.”

Mother smiled and said, “Little one, if this is how the rest of life would be, then none of us would need to know more.  Suppose it rained, would we be sitting here still?” Nayantara shook her head,

“Suppose you began to feel hungry would you still be sitting here, or would we get up and look for some juicy short grass and a stream of water?” 

Nayantara said, “why of course we look for a lovely green patch.”

“Then,”, said Mother, wisely “You can not know how to look for a green patch, or where to go for shelter when it rains, and oh! A lot of many other  things, unless you learn how. That’s why you have me to help you learn these”.

Nayantara snuggled closer, with excitement in her eyes and said, “Yes, mother, of course I would like to learn.”

And so begun Nayantara’s first lesson, in rear earnest. Mother took Nayantara to a sandy patch hedged in by cacti and said to her “Look around you, what you see?.

Nayantara was  puzzled: and said “I see lots of thorny bushes with thick fat stems”.

Mother nodded and asked:“Have you ever thought how they live, they don’t have feet to carry them to the water’s edge for a drink of water, and yet they don’t wither away and die even when it does not rain for days and months, when the sun causes us to scurry around and find some deep water-hole.”

Nayantara’s mouth round in a little ‘O’, as if she was thinking deeply of something and asked: “Is that why they stay the same way whether it’s rainy or cold or hot?”.

“Yes,” said mother, “when it rains, it stores up water in its thick fleshy leaves and stems, and uses it like precious water in a water-hole.”

“Why can’t we do that, mother”, asked Nayantara curiously.

“Because you and I have a different kind of skin which cannot store water except for a little while, then we can move to water holes, which these plants cannot do.”

“Oh”, said Nayantara, “no wonder trees stay where they are, I cannot imagine if they kept moving around all the time, I would certainly get lost, if this place did not stay the way it is”.

She fell to wondering how a moving forest of trees would look like, and  how many would quarrel for the best places and what kinds of battles little thorny bushes would have with large gigantic trees, till suddenly she realized with a start that her mother’s soft voice was still continuing…  “and these thorny bushes stay together and help each other when a strong wind shakes them in a flurry and they guard the little ones that are almost hidden among them.”

“But how, mother,” asked Nayantara… “how does it happen?”

“Look,” mother said, “come with me”, and she took her to a corner, where tall gigantic cacti grew, the outer ones reaching towards the centre with long twining branches. “Do you see how the tall older ones try to hold each other’s hands, and the little ones grow under their twining arms? Have you seen our friend, the owl when the night wind blows and shakes her branch, she holds her little one tightly under her wing.”

“Yes, oh yes, said Nayantara, “just the way you do, encircle me with your hooves when I get scared at nights, it feel so safe to the skin”.

“Yes,” said mother, “there is always a protection, I cover you, the trees cover us, and the kind old forest encircles us all.”

And as they trotted away to…. the others, Nayantara looked back to see the clump of cacti and it almost seemed as if the taller ones, were leaning to her, and saying, “see now you know us for what we are.”  Nayantara smiled back.  This was her first lesson, and there would be many more she was sure. She must ask her mother to tell her about the rise of the sun and the gold and orange colors, it sounded so interesting.  May be about the blades of grass she thought… about brothers and sisters, who at this moment were chomping at the juicy grass.

* * *

 

 VII

 THE FIRST UNPLEASANT EXPERIENCE

Nayantara snuggled drowsily in the dry cracking leaves in the nook which was her family home. Her little brother put out a hoof, which bumped against her ear. But Nayantara did not really mind. She knew that her brother did so unknowingly, because he was fast asleep. It was almost dawn now, and soon it would be time to frisk and play and eat the juicy springy grass, which grew on the edge of the stream. She sighed contentedly with the thought, and watched through the curtain of leaves, as the world turned from a faint pearly grey to a blushing pink, and the breeze decided to move around fresh gusts of clean fragrant air, rippling the leaves as it darted in and out.

Nayantara’s mother stirred in her sleep, and Nayantara was glad for this meant that soon she would be given permission to go to the edge of the stream to eat her breakfast with her brother and sister.  Nayantara’s mother stood up gracefully, and with a quick bound the others did the same.  It was one of  these morning when everything seemed to be smiling, the fierce kindly sun, the old lordly looking trees, the merry stream gurgling over its rooks, even the little blue daisies which somehow escaped being nibbled by the little deer. Nayantara ate in a very interesting  way. She bent her neck and swished the grass back and in a very amusing way, she then with her long lips, opened her little teeth which snapped up clumps of grass, and sucked and chewed and gulped as if in the same instant.

Intent on this business, she wondered a little farther away from the rest, till she came to the foot of an old tree, which looked as if its roots were a part of the earth.  Some of the stumps made little curves out of the earth, and in the hollow patches, juicy green grass seemed to burst forth shaded by the huge arms of the tree, spreading in many directions, twisted and ancient but loving and protecting the earth.

Gradually, Nayantara became aware of a disturbing sound, like the hard sounding beat of a horny hoof on a rough stone, and what caught her attention that it was like a rhythm — tick tick … a pause… and then tick tick …. a pause, and so it went. Now Nayantara was curious. Where did this sound did come from, as far as she could look over the ground, there did not seem to be anything.  She looked up and about, she cocked her ear on one side, and searched and searched with her eyes in the leaves of the trees, and still it came.  The sounds… tick.. tick.. tick.. tick.  She trotted round the tree roots looking this way and that.

Suddenly the tick- tick stopped, and just as suddenly, a high pitched little voice said in a sing song fashion.  “Well.. I suppose I will have to tell you, that it is I who am the producer of such a melodious sound.”  Nayantara felt she had to say something in reply, so she said the first thing that came into her mind, “I must say, it is a really business-like sound you are producing; but I cannot see you and I do not know who you are.”

The sound was made by a wood-pecker, who was certainly becoming very tired of pecking away at the hole and was getting quite irritated.  So when it heard the word “business-like”, it came screaming down to the foot of the tree in a flash of god brown feathers, and exclaimed in a hurt voice ‘business-like, you silly creature, it’s not meant to be business-like.  I’ll have you know that it’s musical.  Birds like me are musical, no mater what sounds we make, and I am the best among them, unless you are too stupid to recognize this.”

Nayantara was a gentle little creature, and did not like to be rude unless she was forced to. Like all creatures, big or small, she felt it was very unjust to be called silly and stupid so many times in so a short a time.  So she tried to control her temper and said as stiffly as she could, “I was only trying to say…”

“Don’t say, “trying to”, interrupted the woodpecker, “you said it and that’s that … of all the unimaginable creatures I’ve met, you’re the biggest.”

“Why”, he continued in a bragging manner, “even the human beings come from the farthest part of the world to listen to me.  I’ll have you know that the things I can do with my beak, those silly human beings have to use sharp tools to do the same.”

He put up his beak in the very way that human beings put up their noses when they wish to look down on what they do not like. By now,Nayantara was getting quite disgusted with this proud little creature, and all its vain showing-off. So, she said with as much anger as she could put into her voice: “I think the dove and the cuckoo are the most musical birds I have heard, and so kind”, she added, “to other creatures.”

“The dove and the cuckoo”, the woodpecker shrieked furiously, “they are senseless creatures, fit only for flitting about, and making useless sounds.”

“This is too much”, though Nayantara, “he must be taught a lesson”.

So she said just as crossly, but a little more quietly, “well, I think there is no point in arguing, for one can only argue with sensible creatures”, and saying this, she staled away with a stiff back, and angry pointed ears, leaving the woodpecker with its beak open, wanting to say something, but not being able to, because there was no one to listen to him.  And, so it went to the hole in the tree pecking more furiously, and with every peck the big old tree felt more and more irritated at this disturbance.  So, it spoke to its brother trees that carried the message to the forest.

The forest was also listening to the conversation, between the haughty woodpecker and the little Nayantara. In their own quite way, the forest and its trees decided to help Nayantara to make the woodpecker see its folly. They sat and discussed at great length as to what should be done.  At last an old acacia tree came up with a suggestion; all the trees voted that it was the best idea yet, and so the plan was prepared and this is what happened.

On the night of the full moon, it was the custom for all gentle creatures of the forest, like the owl, the rabbit, the peacock, the giraffe, the zebra and the deer to meet under the presidentship of the clumsy old elephant, who was really most gentle unless angered unnecessarily.  They wanted to discuss matters of protection from the other dangerous creatures of the forest, like the hyena, the snake, the tiger and the lion.  So long as the elephant and his relations were about the place, the dangerous creatures dared not attack the helpless ones, and so these were happy occasions.

VIII

THE FIRST SHARING

In the far away forest, there was a murmur of discontent.  And in a way, rightly so; the summer was ending. The acacia tree had shed its yellow flowers which gently twirled like little butterflies to the forest  ground .The flame of the forest sadly dripped its red waxed blossoms, the mango had bloomed, its flowers had given way to orange yellow and red fruit, bursting into ripeness, ready to fall; the hibiscus was everywhere in orange, pink, red and white, the oleander heavy with its luscious pink-red flowers was drooping to the floor of the forest with its weight.  The red berries of the peepal were squashy on the ground, crushed by many hoofs.  Such splashes of colour !

But then the yearly “beginning of the end” of the year had started.  The beginning with leaf buds, leaves, flowers and fruit had now ended its cycle.  The wild rose, the jacaranda, and hyacinths were impatient to begin their yearly growing up with the chill and the foggy air they liked so much.

“It’s your turn to change”, said the trees protestingly, looking at the oleander, the acacia and the flame of the forest, which were the most abundant in flowers and cluttered up the place with so much yellow gold, and red and pink all over the forest floor like so many pieces of squirted paint. “Look”, said the oleander, the acacia and the flame of the forest together.

“We are ready to give place to you, we are reasonable; but tell us how can we, unless the wild wind helps us shed these flowers we are holding so. We need the gusts of the wild wind to blow hot and strong, and when we are bare, we can hold out till it is our turn again”.

“Alright, alright”, said the jacaranda the most abundant of all cool summer trees, we shall talk to the forest who knows the wild wind very well.”

And so, they had a nodding discussion, and finally the wild rose was chosen to talk to the forest to talk to the wild wind: The rose was the forest’s favorite for the forest liked to show off to the other forests how beautiful his wild rose was. The wild rose then twisted her thorny bushes, which pricked the trees, and the trees were upset. The wild rose said it would stop doing so if they talked to the forest, for it was they who made up the forest.

And so it was, that the trees talked to the forest, which had the responsibility of seeing that there was as little discontent as was possible in his domain. He finally agreed to persuade the wild wind. He stopped the few clouds in the blazing blue sky, day after day, with anxious messages that he wanted to see the wild wind, but there was no answer. The summer trees got heavier, the winter trees grew impatient, and still the wild wind did not come to have a discussion with the forest.

Every morning the sun grew fiercer, the air hotter, the animals panted, the streams shrunk, and the birds twitted less joyously. Now the real reason for this long silence from the wild wind was that he was too busy, his schedule was full, and he could only come to each forest, when it was its turn. He couldn’t come later, he couldn’t come earlier, and he could come only when it was scheduled. If he took time off to visit this particular forest, his whole schedule would be upset, and he would have a hard time explaining to nature, whey he was behind schedule.

So, as much as he would have liked to oblige this particular forest, all other forests were clamouring for  his help too.  This made him feel very important and very righteous, so he struck to his schedule determinedly.  He would shake up each forest in turn with wild glee and leave behind an almost leafless forest with bare twisted arms.  “Like spring cleaning”, he thought ruefully, “but that’s my designed job”, and so he went along with greater and greater vigour.

Soon the far away forest’s turn came.  It was the next one marked on the wild wind’s calendar. And so one day he sent warning signals, gusts of wind scurrying all flowers in little whirlwinds, a swoosh of acacia here, a swoosh of oleander there, a tumble of mangos everywhere.  The forest was relieved.  This was the wild wind’s message, he was coming but only on time.  He appreciated that.  He hated surprises, he didn’t know how to deal with surprises, they affected the animals, the streams, the little creatures differently, and he had his hands ,m or rather his  trees full with the day to day management of each one’s problems. There was a sense of relief: the wild wind was on its way!

The wild wind did come, and on time, but he was so much in earnest about his work and he was so apologetic about not being able to respond to this far away forest’s request before time, that he was determined to do a very good job.  So when he came, with a mighty roar straight from the burning blue sky, he brought with him lots of sand and dust to help in a good clean-up.

Everything happened at once, the sand flew into the eyes of all creatures, the dust made the trees cough so hard that they shook and shivered, the hot air dried up the streams, and the wild wind uprooted all small bushes, burnt up patches of grass and flung little things this way and that in his great earnest work, little thinking of the havoc he was creating.  The forest was everywhere comforting everybody and everything. But, no sooner had he pacified one corner, another would cry out to him to help.  The wild wind passed him up and down saying merrily “My good friend I am doing a great job for you… am I not….!!”

“Ah yes, you did”, thought the forest ruefully as the wild wind left in as much hurry as he had come waiving a merry hot gust and a “bye shall see you again next year”, as he flew with his sand dust and burning air.  The desolate forest picked itself up and went about fixing up things as much as he could.  But the one thing he couldn’t do was to bring back the grass to the earth for the deer, zebra, wilder beast and rabbits to eat, not as much water as would be needed in the streams to drink, till the year’s second gentle rain would come; but that would not be  for some time now.

The wildebeest to be sure did not like this and protested, but soon quitened down to eating rather than arguing with the good and kindly forest.

Nayantara found a huddled space and nibbled all around without much moving and getting into the horns of others; but  being at the edge of the patch she noticed a little zebra standing bewildered amongst all the pushing and prodding of zebra bodies, and whisking of zebra tails. She smiled shyly at it, it smiled back kindly. Suddenly it was pushed almost onto Nayantara.

“I am awfully sorry”, said the little zebra.  I didn’t mean it”,

“It’s Ok”, said Nayantara quickly, “why don’t you take my place.”

Before the little zebra could protest, Nayantara huddled into her own eating corner, and stood as best as she could hemmed in by zebras on one side and her own brood of deer on the other. Not being able to nibble even by standing in one place, she had no place to bend her head and stood erect watching all the quick nibbling animals. Now the little zebra was already very hungry. It had spent so much time playing before the wild wind came, and so much effort hiding from it, that it was truly tired and hungry, but mostly hungry, so it gave a little nod of thanks, whisked her tail and set about nibbling in such an engrossed fashion that it soon forgot about Nayantara.

Hours after, the grass was all gone, every blade of it, the zebras and wildebeest and deer had all retired, as full as could be for the present.  The far away forest was busy having an urgent meeting with the trees, to scant for more grass patches for the animals, more water holes for the lions and the hyenas, who were in a bad mood any way; since now the deer, the zebras and the wildebeests moved away in closer packs.  All this was very laborious indeed, but the pow- wows went on well into the late dusk, when the sun, also concerned and tired with watching all this upheaval burned a brighter orange before he lay down cozily to sleep.

The hush of dusk lay still, the crickets came out, the rabbits scurried into hollow roots of trees; and therein the distance was an outline of two animal figures against the rosy blush of the skyline.  And when one went closer, they looked so much alike the stripped white and black zebra, the white and brown speckled deer: Nayantara and her new found friend, the little zebra; Nayantara  although she still was hungry, her little friend the zebra and she were happy and the zebra more so since she  had found a friend among the horned family, not one of her own, but still a friend, with whom she could talk and confide in, the gentle deer called Nayantara.

Flocks of zebra, wildebeest, deer, rabbits and even herds of elephants went looking around for grass: any kind, short, tall, sweet, dry, but grass it should be.  As  it can be guessed there was very little. Somebody whispered that at one end of the forest shaded by heavy trees there was a long stretch of grass intact, not the best, but it would do.  The word spread soon, and very soon herds of zebras, wildebeest and deer were flocking.

Among them was Nayantara’s family, and Nayantara did what the rest of the deer families did, she scampered wildly with them. When they reached the grass patch, they discovered to their dismay that it would not be enough for one cropping, till they could discover another. The wildebeest snorted and stamped and were all over nibbling away greedily; the zebra and the deer stood on the edge, not knowing who should begin eating first.  The zebras were very attached to wildebeest, but were shocked at their greedy behaviour.

The deer stood timidly by, till Nayantara’s grandfather made bold to say to the zebra: “Why don’t you start eating first, we will join you.”

The zebra stood firm, and the leader said: “There’s not enough for all our families.” And so each waited for the other growing hungrier and looking at the fast disappearing grass munched up b y the wildebeest.  Finally, the far away forest, getting quite tired over such problems and disputes leaned over, and with his tallest branch marked three places, and quickly dispersed each type of animal into one place, and as they was less discontent among the wildebeest, the zebra and the deer.
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