The Wild Birthday

The clay pots, maal-maati and cuttings of various plants lay strewn all over. The two sisters sat with their maali bhaiya, placing the ferns and succulents in the pots tenderly prepared by the maali and then carried them to the verandah of Sankos bada bungalow, clapping their tiny hands gleefully on the successful completion of the task. They turned to their mother asking, “when will these plants be taller than us?” The maali bhaiya told them, “baby logon, thoda dhairya rakhiye,” “these plants too, just like you need tender love and care.”

Each Monday morning, at the break of dawn, the two sisters along with their mother would head for St James’ school, travelling for two and a half hours to Binnaguri. They loved the verdant paddy fields and the tilled earth they saw through the windows of the car, filtered through their dreamy eyes. When they began approaching the school, they would nibble on their breakfast and tidy up for the long day of classes. Their mother would drop them at their classes and have a word with their respective class teachers before leaving for Aibheel tea garden where the three of them would stay for the week.

One of the Mondays, the brief meetings with the teachers had gone well – except for one peculiar comment from Apoorva’s teacher of 1st grade – Mrs Malvika Roy. She expressed her astonishment at the statement that her family had seven pets! “Do we?” her mom looked at her inquisitively. “Tintin and Pluto,” Apoorva began to count on her fingers, “The cows, geese, ducks, monkeys and honey bees. Seven.”

Canine companion

“Oh! That makes seven types staying in the same premises, I suppose,” her teacher shared an understanding glance with her mother. She too chuckled and headed on to Aibheel. There was something pleasant about the chhotta bungalow of this tea estate, which was right next to the factory. The girls would return and join their mother for the week.

Mrs Malvika Roy

But the excitement of Friday afternoons was unparalleled as they would head back to Sankos for the weekend. As soon as the car would halt at the porch, the girls would hop off to be greeted by their pet dogs with their tails wagging, slobbering all over their faces and palms. They would run helter-skelter, shedding all their unspent energy.

The feathered family

“Mumma, next week we will take them with us,” they would rattle. With the canine companions following the girls, they would amble and jog to meet the other pets. “Anmol and Apoorva, let's wash and snack first,” their mother would say but they would turn a deaf ear as their pets held all their attention.

The weeks flew by fast, and the weekends even faster. Before they knew it, a year had passed and exams were round the corner. They would have to spend the coming weekend in Aibheel. Somewhat grumpy, they began to pack for a fortnight. But their father promised that he would come to celebrate Apoorva’s birthday and have loads of fun. Gradually, their grump-o-meter turned to excitement and they started to prepare.

“Happy birthday!” shrieked her mother and sister early that Friday morning. “Thank you,” Apoorva replied sleepily.

“Papa will be here by the time you’re back from school,” her mother assured her.

Colours of spring

The sisters returned in the afternoon, took off their shoes and socks and frolicked around the grass in happy anticipation. Soon, they heard their father’s vehicle roll in and he joined in, chasing them around with his arms raised high. Their mother watched from the verandah, a smile playing on her lips. She held her outstretched palms feeling the light drizzle. It was turning out to be a perfect birthday in all the ways, which only the universe could give.

Fun and frolic

Adding cherry on the cake, they decided to take a drive on the undulating roads that encompassed the estate. Anmol and Apoorva jumped on the rear seat enthusiastically. The daylight was dwindling to a barely perceptible lightening of the gloom, through the dipped light of the vehicle, their father braked atop the slope of Satkyah division and pointed out ahead.

He held out his arm pointing towards the moving shadow in the bushes, where the greens and purples were melting into greys. Their eyes adjusted to the dim light and a fierce feline mother leopard revealed herself, crouching on its fours on the slopes of the bushes, its legs bent and head low, probably stalking its prey carefully and quietly.

A few still and silent moments passed. The mother leopard retreated to the bushes and reappeared. From the vehicle, they watched in awe. And then they noticed the leopard carrying its cub by the scruff to the other side. She was back again to carry the other cub to safety.

This played like a movie in front of their eyes and it was all over within a few minutes. But they sat there in silence for a long time absorbing the incredulity of the scene. Once their father had ensured it was safe for all, they began to head back.

C A T spelled Apoorva. “It’s a leopard beta,” said their father and their mother began to spell, L E O P A R D. Their father intervened and began telling his daughters about the cubs. “Where is their home papa?” asked Apoorva.

“The baby leopards are born here, in this drain. So this is their home.”

The perfect birthday celebration came to an end late that evening.

The next Monday, as their mother made her rounds with the respective class teachers, Apoorva’s class teacher had a quirky remark - “even after explaining, coaxing and persuading, Apoorva insists that leopards are pet animals and not wild!”

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Glossary:

Maal-matti: Manure

Maali: Gardener

Bada bungalow: Manager's bungalow

"baby logon, thoda dhairya rakhiye": "Have patience"

Chhotta bungalow: Assistant manager's bungalow