It was the heart of summer. The sun’s scorching heat beat down relentlessly, searing the trees in the forest turning their once lush green leaves brittle and brown. The ground was cracked and dry, desperately seeking the first drops of rain. Tendu, the leopard, lay panting in the heat under the shadow of a big rock, waiting for nightfall. That’s when he would dare to venture out. Many of the other jungle animals had migrated to cooler climes. Perhaps next year he would join them too, he thought.
When at last night cast her star-studded cape across the sky, blocking out the sun, he decided to step out in search of food and water. The dry twigs and leaves crackled under his soft, stealthy tread warning off his prey. He wandered through the forest searching in vain for water to quench his thirst. At the break of dawn, he reached the forest edge where he spotted a village.
Tendu saw a sparrow entering a clay pot and coming out wet, shaking the droplets off its feathers. Gingerly he approached the pot but the sparrow flitted away. The opening of the pot was narrow, yet Tendu could see there was some water in it. He tipped it over with his paw hoping to lap up the spilt contents but the cool liquid was immediately soaked up by the parched, cracked earth.
Disappointed and disillusioned, Tendu was about to turn back when he spied another aluminium pot. To his good luck this pot’s mouth appeared to be a bit wider. With great determination Tendu managed to squeeze his head into the pot. Extending his tongue, he was able to lap up the water. Ah! The feel of the cool liquid sliding down his parched throat was such a relief.
Tendu drank every last drop. Satisfied at last, he tried to take his head out of the pot but found that he was stuck. He attempted to shake it off but it stuck to his face. He tried using a paw to prise it off but that didn’t work either. Tendu was blind with the pot stuck over his head. It was dark inside and he felt claustrophobic. He heard people’s voices and footsteps approaching. Then he heard shouts and felt a stone hit his leg.
He panicked and started running helter-skelter, blindly bumping into people and trees. He roared in frustration but his roar echoed in his own ears due to the confines of the pot. Another stone clanged against the metal pot. Frantic, he was further startled by the tyres of a vehicle screeching to a halt. The jungle wardens had arrived, he figured.
Suddenly there was a hush and then he felt a net falling over him. He was trapped and trussed in the net. He felt the sharp sting of a needle as drowsiness overtook him and he drifted off into a deep sleep.
The next thing he knew was that he awoke back in the forest. There was no pot over his head. Was it all just a bad dream, a horrible nightmare? He thought that perhaps the villagers and forest officials had shown compassion and released him back into his natural habitat. He thanked his lucky stars or else who knows he may have ended up in permanent captivity.
Tendu felt befuddled and confused but regardless of whether his experience was real or just a dream he had learnt his lesson — not to stick his head into pots or venture out of the forest. If greedy humans hadn’t ruined his home, constantly chopping trees and taking natural resources from the forest, there would be no need for him to leave the forest, he thought as he dozed off again.
(Ashrafi is a children’s writer.)