Published in LMD Living- June 2016
With the month of Poson poya finally here and the greater
Buddhist populace making extra efforts at spirituality, it was quite nice to
happen upon the legend of how Buddhism seeped into this little island of
devils. Amongst the fascinating stories is the tale of how King Devanampiya Tissa
(Sri Lankans never believed in naming kids anything even mildly pronounceable) took
up compassion as his personal mantra and established the world’s first animal
sanctuary in 247 BC.
Fast forward to about 2500 years later and you have a Sri
Lanka that’s a far cry from the Buddhist nation it promised to be all those
centuries ago. One doesn’t have to traipse all the way to Mihintale to be
rudely slapped with the reality of what a mess we’ve made today on the animal
welfare front. Ol’ Tissa would roll in his grave if he knew. So would the stag
whose life he spared, if someone were to reveal that a good portion of its
future generations are now packed up in a smelly concentration camp called the
Dehiwela zoo. Those who still remain in the wild run the daily risk of being
renamed venison. Oh deer.
One of the more endless tales of woe would have to be
relayed by the elephant – that giant guardian of mystery and spirituality. If
there’s one thing to be said about us puny Sri Lankans, it’s that we can take
our David Vs. Goliath mentality a little too far. It’s certainly no joke that
most of today’s dwindling local elephant population are more often found
shackled and swaying in broken-spirited stress in some concrete shed, than they
are lazily plonked in jungle mud-baths like they should be. Apparently, the
interpretation of Ceylonese compassion is to dress them up in gaudy carnival
attire complete with electrical wiring and parade them on long stretches of tar
road amidst fire, drums and gawping humans. When not being poked with the ankus
on the street, they’re found being prodded to stand on their heads or sit on
miniscule stools at the zoo, for the entertainment of more gawping humans. We
do this, of course, not in the name of Buddhism but more in the name of foreign
currency, but it is ironic that a country so staunch in its belief in the power
of karma would resort to enslaving, chaining and abusing the very creatures it
deems sacred, all for bragging rights and a few bucks. Then again, ignorance
and defiance is something we voluntarily relish in sunny Serendipity. The few
eles who escape the greedy clutches of private owners and tourist attractions
might have it easy in their bit of hideout, were it not for the inhabitants of
surrounding villages raising sarongs and voices above the noise of the lethal hakka patas tossed casually at hungry
pachyderms who visit for a cup of sugar. Today, Sri Lankans are to elephants
what Isis is to the world, with the precious few activists who raise concerns
being speedily thwacked in the bum for speaking uninvited.
The elephants are joined in their fundamental rights
petition by almost every other four-legged, feathered or scaly being in little
Lanka. What once roamed freely is now scurrying to avoid speeding safari jeeps,
butcher’s knives and bullets, when not going slowly mad inside a holding cell
due to no fault of its own. A visit to the zoo will not only present you with
that delightfully packed deer enclosure and acrobatic elephants in chains, but
also ostriches who have plucked all their feathers out (no, not because nude is
in fashion), an assortment of monkeys all holding their starved arms out and
begging for the paracetemols and razor blades thrown into their cages by our highly
intelligent youth, and penguins suffering from heatstroke because the air
conditioner can’t quite reach arctic temperatures inside the room painted white
to trick them into believing it’s snowing.
We are, after all, the land of Metta and Karuna. How
beautifully we live up to our own preaching.
