There
was once a Tiger of Mumbai whose roar was enough to make everyone quake. He was
the uncrowned King of Mumbai, so powerful, he had gangsters and entertainers
and industrialists bowing before him in servility. He was revered like a God by
not only the tigers, but all other animals. Nobody said a word against him,
either out of reverence or fear. Mumbai was his territory, but his reign spread
all across Maharashtra. The lions who were kings of all other jungles had to
play second fiddle to the Tiger when they entered the border of Maharashtra.
After all it had taken the deaths of 105 tigers to free Mumbai from the
clutches of the lions. The lions were defeated and the coveted Mumbai became a
part of Maharashtra, the land of the Tiger. Many lions resided all over
Maharashtra but were quick to accept the Tiger as their undisputed King.
Years
went by. The Tiger roared and ruled with a heavy paw whose claws would kill
anyone who’d dare to disagree. All along he had a remote control which would determine the fate of all animals. Any other race or clan was considered an enemy
and many such ‘enemies ’ were killed by his fellow tigers at a mere nudge of the remote control button. But one thing worried him; his tiger cubs! They were puny. They weren’t showing the same
stripes and their roar was a mere whimper. His nephew however had stripes just like
his and sometimes when he roared people said he sounded just like his all-
powerful uncle. That scared him even more. The Tiger, who always criticized
other rulers for crowning their unfit offspring due to nepotism and
dynasty-politics didn’t think twice before crowning his incapable tiger cub as the
next King-in-waiting of Mumbai. His nephew, slighted by this insult, broke away
and marked his own territory in the heart of Mumbai. Many tigers broke away
from the Tiger to follow his nephew. But the Tiger was unfazed. He had put
blinkers on his eyes. Because however powerful you may be, you are always
blinded by love! The Tiger pushed his loved cub in front of the sea of animals,
coaxing him to roar like him. The gentle tiger cup tried his best for he really
revered his father. He filled his lungs with air and roared out loud. The
gaping crowd heard a ‘meow’ and looked at each other in horror and
embarrassment. Unfazed the Tiger prompted the cub to roar again. The cub filled
up his lungs again and let out a little bit of air. But the Tiger had roared along
with him and the sea of animals echoed the roaring with a frenzied roar of
their own, reassured by the presence and strength of the Tiger.
But
when he was alone the Tiger was upset, worried. Would his cub ever learn to roar?
Would it be soon enough? There was already some talk of a certain Lion of Gir
who was in the news for doing the same vicious things that he, the Tiger had done
in 1993. And this Lion of Gir had one advantage over the Tiger; he had no cubs.
He was the most eligible alpha male in his territory and his territory kept
spreading from Gir to many other parts of India. His favourite song was, "Every breath you take, every move you make, I'll be watching you". Because however powerful you may be, there is always something/someone you want but don't get!
The Tiger's Maharashtra was not
untouched by the persona of the Lion of Gir. The lions in Maharashtra were thrilled about this new messiah and
were quick to swear allegiance to him.The
Tiger, by comparison was old. Even goats and lambs had
started protesting against him. He found he couldn’t roar that loud any longer,
his coat had lost its sheen, his stripes were fading, his teeth falling and his
claws had lost their sharpness already. He looked at his King-in-waiting. He
had grown up alright, but he just couldn’t roar! Because however powerful you
may be, you cannot govern nature!
And
then one day the Tiger passed away! A wave of sorrow swept over not only
Mumbai, but the whole of Maharashtra. Even many of his enemies were paying him
glowing tributes. There were some sheep, lamb and goat who rejoiced quietly at the passing
away of someone who had got away with a lot of undemocratic things. But not
anymore. Because however powerful you may be, you cannot escape death!
A year
passed and the Tiger’s cub who was King-in-waiting was still King-in-waiting
and had still not learned to roar. Even the Tiger’s nephew’s roar had become a
mere growl. People had stopped taking the tigers seriously. The Tiger still
didn’t have a memorial befitting him in his homeland. Because however powerful
you may be, once you’re dead, you cannot have your way!
The Lion of Gir was now the King-in-waiting
of India. Ironically, he organised a ‘Maha-roar’ rally in the Tiger’s own
backyard; just a stone’s throw from the Tiger’s residence. There were posters
of the Lion as well as many other lions plastered all over what was once the Tiger’s
Mumbai. But not a single tiger on those posters. Didn’t they have a tacit
agreement about territories? If the late Tiger were alive, would any lion have
the gumption to hold a ‘Maha-roar ’rally and not invite the Tiger or his clan?
All the posters would have featured the Tiger towering above even the tallest
lion! But now with the Tiger gone, with not even a memorial to his name, the
tigers had lost their clout. To add insult to injury, the Lion of Gir, who was
well known for “Modi-fying” history to suit his purpose, had forgotten to even
mention the late Tiger in his speech. He kept slamming Maharashtra and praising
Gujarat. Was it a mere oversight or a deliberate attempt to malign the Tiger's memory? Had he forgotten that
Mumbai was snatched from the lions by the tigers a long time ago? Or was this
an intentional pay back? The Tiger could do nothing now could he? Because however powerful you may be, when you
pass away, your ‘remote control’ goes with you!
The Lion of
Gir with his ‘Maha-roar’ is now racing ahead towards being crowned the King of
India. But just a word of caution! He should beware of a certain fantastic Mr.
Fox who has just usurped the throne of the capital of India from right under
the noses of all other animals. He may be slight in size but he can make all
the right noises. He can roar, meow, purr, bark, bite, bleat, neigh, and can even
blow his own trumpet better than the Lion of Gir. Nobody knows who he quite is, but everybody
thinks he is their own. The arrogant Lion of Gir should watch
out. Because however powerful you may be, nature has a way of teaching humility!
