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To the Elephant Graveyard THE title arguably is the least attractive part of this delightful, little paperback. First published in the UK eight years ago, re-published by Penguin Books in India this year, the book provides a racy account of the chase for a rogue elephant in Assam.
The average Asian elephant weighs seven tonnes, stands nine feet high, can run 25 miles an hour and has a trunk which is powerful enough to pull a human being’s head right off the shoulder. But the elephant is generally a gentle creature, playful and ever ready to be domesticated and do the man’s bidding. Indeed, the first chapter begins after quoting Charles Darwin. Man and primates, he wrote, share even complex sentiments like jealousy, suspicion, gratitude and magnanimity. They can also practice deceit and be revengeful. Therefore, when an elephant turns a rogue, there is usually a story behind it. An order is given to destroy this protected animal only after it is conclusively proved that it had killed at least 12 people. Rogues have to be killed or they would kill, say experts. But how and why do elephants turn into rogues? What intrigued the author even more was why the rogue in this case targeted only men and the inebriated ones at that. Are elephants capable of premeditated murder, he wonders and maintains the suspense till the very end. Indians familiar with the chaos on our streets will be amused to read the description of traffic in Guwahati. A landmower-like engine (auto rickshaws), drivers "overtaking and undertaking" as if "every vehicle was being piloted by a circus clown" would strike a chord with the reader. Even more impressive is the description of how a scared mother-and-daughter duo crosses the street. The author, who now alternates between London and New Delhi, has conjured up a wealth of unforgettable characters. The paan-chewing driver of the Ambassador, who fancies himself as "Mr Gand Pree, like Tom Crooooz" and is obsessed with vital statistics of film actresses; Churchill, the mahout who believes that elephants are like women but only easier to manage and takes upon himself the task of enlightening the author about the animal, who never forgets, Choudhury, the hunter, who comes face to face with the rogue but does not shoot because he wants to give a last chance to the animal to mend his ways and of course Vipal Ganguly, the AP photographer who boasts of having fifteen thousand friends and who always moves around with a dozen of them—are just some of the characters in this action-filled book. In a way the title of the book is apt enough. Elephants are becoming extinct in India. Since pre-Independence days when even a desert-state like Rajasthan had its own herds of elephants, 70 per cent of the elephant population is estimated to have disappeared, poached, killed and ill-treated. With very little rain forest left for the animals to live in and their utility to the rich and the affluent having come to an end, elephants have lost their home and they are "disoriented and angry". Skilled mahouts are hard to find and the whole country has turned into the elephant’s graveyard. Hall writes with empathy and the book contains rich details on the animal and its habits even as the author explores the "myth" that elephants retreat to a graveyard when their time comes. What else would explain why nobody has ever found the carcass of an elephant having died a natural death?
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Brilliantly
written, the book can pass off as fiction, a travelogue or an
adventure story. Tarquin Hall, who was a journalist based in New Delhi
when he undertook the journey, brings to the tale his singular eye for
detail, an engaging sense of humour and his ability to tell a story
through arresting conversation.