The Last Hunt

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The Last Hunt

The scorching sun had started to shine bright in the sky. The schools had shut down. It was the summer holidays and I was back in my birth town Shimla. Shimla is often referred to as the queen of hills. Shimla has been a retiring home always.Since the days of the colonial rule the town has had the reputation of being the summer capital of the British Empire. The days used to be filled with heat back at school in Delhi. I have always wondered that while I belonged to this divine place, which is snow covered in most of the winters, why did my parents felt the need to send me to Delhi.Delhi on the other hand is a crowded city, a perfect picture of a metropolitan city accompanied with an awful weather . The vacations always had a very pleasant thing about them.I was spared from eating the boring and distasteful food in sc hool mess. Maa would prepare all nice dishes for me which were served hot and with a tinge of motherly love in them . This was also the time when my uncles and aunts would com e over to stay and spend some time with us. The whole family would be there at home and the times spent were truly the celebrated parts of my memory. Being born in a Rajput family, the recreational activities ranged from playing polo , visiting old places and hunting. Shimla has a vast cover of forest and back in time when I was in school it was not as much inhabited by humans as it is today. Hunting was a fun activity and all my uncles had a

hidden motive to come to Shimla, which was of course hunting. Though hunting was not permissible by law in any order or territory, but then as my uncle would call it ²³who will catch us? There is nobody who can punish us? We belong to this region and we have a n ownership of this land.´ It was hardly the concern that several authorities might jump in someday to accuse him, or for that matter the whole family for carrying on this unlawful activity . It was done for recreation and moreover we were not some proficient and skilful shooters who could put down a prey with eve ry bullet fired. The hunting game was something which had been a tradition and was passed over by generations as the game of men in the house. The adolescent boys were introduced to it once they were thought fit for it. This promotion was considered as the nascent walk towards the early manhood in the family. It was a year ago when after a prolonged discussion I was allowed to accompany the hunters on their adventurous path.I was still a small boy studying at school and generally this was not acceptable. A boy studying in school did not constitute the age to be taken along to the forests for the game. This graduation came to me a little early and I became the guide to the party. I was told to keep my eyes open and spot any bird which could be aimed at as a prey. I was a responsible and efficient tracker; I did my job with interest and enthusiasm. The second degree of g raduation of came to me this year when, I knew from the very starting of the holidays that this time I would

even get the opportunity to hunt. I was so excited that I kept on discussing the same on my way back home with my friends in the bus. And finally the day came when I the felt the cold of the metal in my hand. The weapon lend a sense of power in you, the black finish of the metal is so sen sitive that when you touch the handle of the weapon the design on it fills you with some sense of pride and victory over every other thing. The weight of the thing pulls your hand down and gives you the impression of holding something appalling which provi des satisfaction of undefined nature. The day I went to the forests, I had two arms with me one of which was a long air rifle and the other was a short range pistol. Though pistols were hardly put to use, one would generally waste all the cartridges of the air rifle and return back home empty -handed. Fortunately if one of the men would hit somebody they would carry that home and an abundant bar -be-queue was organised to celebrate the hunt, though the hunt would only be the miniscule part of the food. While I was walking carefully down the hill, which had a cover of some leaves fallen from the trees making it slippery; I sensed the presence of big bird on the tree towards my right. Now I had to find a cover for myself, from where I could find a clear shot of the bird without alerting it. I climbed up on a rock which had a carved out impression in it; it looked more like a cave made by some early men to live in. The rock had a smooth surface in front of it and a small covering over it which could provide a shade. I positioned myself like a proficient hunter and without making much noise sat

down on the rock. Then picking up the rifle I loaded the cartridge in the barrel, I made it doubly sure that while clipping back the nozzle in its place I make the least poss ible noise. As I prepared myself with the gun, without wasting anyt ime I aimed at the bird.The viewfinder attached on the top of the nozzle was extremely small and it was difficult to differentiate between the green feathers of the bird and the tree leaves . I did not want to miss the shot. At the back of my mind I was imagining the proud that I was soon to be heaped with. The very first trip of mine to the forest was soon to yield a prize for me. I had to view the bird several times to know its position and to set my viewfinder on it. Finally I placed my finger on the trigger and as I was going to push, I felt somebody just came and jumped right next to me on the rock. I turned towards that direction and saw a healthy rabbit sitting right next to me on the rock. With an instance I pulled out the gun from the holster in my waist belt and placed it right next to his head. The gun¶s barrel was just an inch away from the flesh of the rabbit. I had missed the shot at the bird as it fled when I turned around making noise. I had the rabbit to substitute my prize. I looked into the eyes of the rabbit which were brown in colour and may be due to the shock, the animal wasn¶t moving even a little bit. I thought he¶s trying to deceive me through giving an impression of it being dead, so that I could just let it go; but then I was a wise man. He was right there in front of me and if I would let it go, there could not be a more foolish action than that. The sense of pride that came to me had made my hand to shiver a little. I hadn¶t blinked my eyes even

once since the time I aimed at new target. As my eyes were still glued at my prey² I saw the tears coming out of his eyes. The rabbit was still not moving. It was still and I could not even see him breathing. My hand had stopped shivering; instead it went cold like a piece of ice. The water that came out of his eyes rendered me paralyzed. I threw the gun and stood up; I was so shocked to see the presence of emotions in the animals which had never occurred to me earlier. The gun fell on the floor a few yards away. It had not occurred to me once that such display of valour on my side could be countered by the animal with such human emotional display. This was the first and the last instance of me visiting the jungle with an intention of taking somebody¶s life.

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