Shikar is a damnable sport

WHETHER innocent or guilty, I am glad that Salman Khan, Saif Pataudi and film actresses accompanying them received wide media publicity over the killings of black bucks and chinkaras near Jodhpur.For one, people who had never heard of Bishnois will now be curious to know more about them. They are a remarkable community who were the first to pledge themselves to the protection of the environment. They made preservation of trees and wild animals a part of their faith.

Well over a century before Bahuguna’s Chipko Movement, scores of Bishnois laid down their lives to prevent state’s armed constabulary helping timber contractors from felling trees. No matter what damage herds of deer and wild boars did to their crops, they did not allow any human being to kill them. As a result black bucks roamed about in Bishnoi villages as freely as goats. I have immense admiration for the Bishnois.

Having done my share of killing innocent birds and animals in my younger days, I am full of remorse for my sins. I wish someone had snatched my sporting gun and smashed it on my knees. I try to atone for what I did in the past by telling people that taking lives of birds and animals is sinful. And calling shikar a sport is a damnable lie. It is in fact an act of barbarity which should not be permitted in civilised societies.

I have not yet been able to resolve the dilemma of killing animals for eating. In nature all animals live on each other. So do human beings all over the world. In some regions humans cannot survive without killing animals for food.We have no right to pass adverse judgement on them. But there is no excuse whatsoever to make killing a sport. Whether it be fox-hunting on horse’s back, chasing wild hares to be torn up alive by greyhounds or using trained falcons to pounce upon bustards, it is sadism at its worst. What I am driving at is that we must clearly separate taking life for human survival and taking life for the fun of it. There may be some justification for the first, there is none for the second. If it was within my power, I would abolish open and closed seasons for shikar of partridges, duck and quail even if you eat their meat. Does that make sense?

Sadequain

Sadequain is the biggest name on the art scene of Pakistan. His murals can be seen in public buildings across the country. His sketches and paintings adorn government offices and homes of the rich. He earned fame as a calligraphist. His stylish reproductions of verses from the Koran, couplets of Ghalib, Iqbal, Faiz and other poets can be seen in countries of West Asia, Pakistan and India. Not many people even knew that he had other interests as well till after his death in Karachi in February, 1987.

In 1981-82, Sadequain spent many months in India. He rang me up. I invited him to have tea with me. He brought some of his calligraphy with him. They were suras from the Koran done in an ornamental style. He told me he had been commissioned to do Ghalib’s couplets by the Ghalib Academy and had an assignment from Aligarh Muslim University. He said he had also gone to visit Amroha where he was born in 1938 and met relatives who had stayed on in India. The evening dragged on. It came to the time I have my sundowner. How could I drink in the presence of a man who had spent a lifetime writing out verses of the holy book ? With some diffidence I asked his permission to have my evening Scotch and offered him a soft drink. Very gracefully he acceded to my request. It was after I had my first one, I asked him if he had ever tasted alcohol. He smiled and replied, "Yes, I also like my drink. "So I poured him one, than a second and third. Later I learnt that Sadequain Sahib was a hard drinker and got through a bottle-and-a-half a day and did his best calligraphy when he was high.

I lost contact with Sadequain and only read of his death in the papers. His ghost was to re-emerge in my life 10 years after he was gone.

A year ago, I received a letter from Aziz Kurtha, who owns a legal firm in Dubai. I learnt from him that amongst drawings found in Sadequain’s locked drawer, were a collection of beautiful line sketches of nude women in the style of Picasso. With the drawings were rubaees in Urdu. A London art publisher had shown interest in publishing them in book form provided English translations of the Urdu were made available along with an introduction to Sadequain’s life and work. Kurtha had read my translation of Allama Iqbal’s — Shikwa and Jawab-i-Shikwa. He asked me if I would be interested in taking on the assignment. The next post from Dubai brought about two dozen Sadequain’s drawings with the rubaees. The drawings were indeed very beautiful. All the rubaees were with double meanings.

I still can’t get over the fact that a man whose main source of income was writing out verses from the Koran could also be a tippler and a consummate artist of erotica.

Matrimonial degree

A woman had a grandson whom she called Diploma. One day someone asked her: "Why do you call your grandson ‘Diploma’?"

"I sent my eldest daughter to study in the city," she replied, "and he’s what she brought back."

(Courtesy: Bitopon Borah, North Guwahati)

Bone of contention

Sounds of a terrible quarrel were coming out of a house. A crowd of passersby collected near the house. Suddenly a door opened and a small boy ran out. "Son, what is the matter?" asked a man, "Are your parents fighting?"

"Yes, they are always fighting," came the boy’s reply. "Who is your father?" asked a woman.

"That’s what they are always fighting about," replied the boy.

(Contributed by Rebecca, Shillong)