Lots of people talk to animals.... Not very many listen, though.... That's the problem. Benjamin Hoff, The Tao of Pooh

One of the truest sayings I have come across, it perfectly describes the human nature- devoting more time speaking rather than listening to others. We cut in impatiently whenever we think that we are not getting the opportunity to put our opinions across satisfactorily, and zone out when the other person starts speaking. But sometimes it is just important to listen, not only because it makes the other person feel good, but for our own sake as it gives us a chance to introspect. When we are so inattentive to the words of another human, how could we possibly expect to understand the language of mute creatures?

Animals are the best listeners because they ask no questions and they do not judge. But often we make the mistake of thinking that just because they can’t speak, they have nothing to share. Those of us who share very strong bonds with our pets would vouch for the fact that they communicate through an unspoken language - their touch, looks, calls and body language constitute a language of its kind-no less effective in conveying their emotions than our spoken language. An animal will just sit beside you for a long time, sharing your solitude and enjoying your company. Many a time when I am working on my laptop or reading, my cat would start nuzzling and brushing against me in a sudden display of affection. He would shower me with loving gazes and make loud purring noises to get my attention. If he fails in his endeavor, he would get trifle irritated and put a complaining paw on the laptop keyboard or on the book and meow pleadingly. This would be my cue to give him a tight hug during which he would close his eyes, go completely still and purr his heart out. If by any chance I do not oblige, he would give me an indignant nip, walk off in a huff and would pointedly ignore me until I make amends by giving him fishy treats. One of my tabby cats actually used to pull at my clothes if I didn’t acknowledge her presence!

When I had brought my dog home from the shelter, she was only six weeks old. She was suffering from a bad skin disease and because of the strong ointments I had to administer on her (which obviously caused her a lot of pain) she developed a kind of phobia towards me. She stopped wagging her tail and trembled out of fear whenever I went close to her. She bit me a number of times while I was applying medicine and she would eat only if my mom served her food. It was as if she was waging a cold war with me. I tried every way possible to pacify her, short of stopping the treatment. Gradually, her skin disease started reducing but her antagonism remained unabated. One day, when I had taken her to the terrace for her evening run and was sitting on parapet, watching her gamboling amongst the flower pots, she suddenly bounded up to me. She hesitated for a second and sniffed at me tentatively. Then she came and sat beside me, looking at me from out of the corner of her eye. After I was certain that she was comfortable, I patted her on her head. She stared up at me for a long time, and I continued patting her in silence. I examined her skin rashes and bruises closely, a task which had lately become impossible. She made soft whining noises when I touched a particularly tender spot, but made no attempt to go away. I understood the terrible pain she must feel when I wash those painful areas with raw Betadine. I gave her a hug and she moved closer to me and leaned her head on my arm. We sat for a long time, watching the sun set, each lost in our own thoughts but somehow finding comfort in each other’s company, and from then on till I left for Mumbai, I made it a point to spend some time with her, just the two of us. We came to understand each other much better and I often felt that during that little time of our own, she would try to make up for her bad behavior during the treatment by offering me twigs and bits of dirt which she found on the terrace, or planting muddy paws on my shoulder and licking every inch of my face.

Just like humans, animals also want to spend their time with those whom they love. We consider our pets to be our companions in solitude because it is with them that we can be completely our own self. But do we also give them the same level of comfort? Do we understand their need to share their solitude with us? Do we give our pets enough time to bond with us? Having a pet is a lifelong commitment from which there is no backing out. We should never make an impulsive decision if we are not emotionally and mentally ready to devote time to a pet as it can cause a lot of pain for the animal we bring into out life.

Of Cities and Common Crows

Common Crow

Every bit of greenery which we see by the roadside is a treasure trove of the most wondrous living creatures, the tiniest of the city dwellers who, not unlike many of us, have painstakingly adapted themselves to the ordeals of city life. You may suddenly come across one of them in the middle of the concrete jungle  perhaps during its foray for food or search for a prospective mate. The other day I had gone to One Indiabulls Center, an office complex in South Mumbai, housing the offices of some of the biggest corporations and law firms in India. I was standing on the pavement waiting for the real estate broker to show us flats and getting thoroughly bored, when I saw a Common Crow butterfly fluttering across the treeless road under the Lower Parel flyover, trying to find the tiniest bit of leafy surface to perch upon. It flew high and low and over moving cars looking completely out of place. The last time I had seen a Crow was through the train window, flying jauntily amongst profuse greenery. I followed the flight of the butterfly as it wove its way though the bustling street, sat briefly on a parked vehicle and finally flew into the sparsely spaced hedges bordering the courtyard of Indiabulls Center. I was left wondering how such a tiny creature could survive in this hostile environment, fighting against all odds. The haunting image of a lone butterfly fluttering across the dusty road  in search of a little patch of green, would always remain to me a reminder of the cruel apathy of the human race who have greedily usurped the natural habitats of their fellow species.

The Common Crow (Euploea core) belonging to the family of Nymphalids, is found in South Asian countries and is perhaps one of the few species of butterfly which are commonly seen in and around cities. The upper side of the butterfly is glossy brown with marginal and terminal white spots either of equal or decreasing size. The forewing is darker than the hind wing but the marginal spots are more prominent on the hind wing. The underside is light brown with similar markings as on the upper side. Towards the middle of the hind wing on the underside, there is a cluster 7-8 of irregularly sized white spots which distinguishes this species from the Brown King Crow butterfly ( Eupleoa Klugii) (As pointed by a butterfly enthusiast and founding member of Nature Mates, Mr Arjan Basu Roy).

Brown King Crow

The butterfly has a very leisurely flight, because it does not have to fear predators. It is inedible on account of the alkaloids in its body, extracted from the latex of the host plants, which they consume as caterpillars. Even if an inexperienced predator attacks it, it soon learns its lesson when the Common Crow oozes out the distasteful liquid, forcing the predator to release it. Once they encounter a Common Crow, the predators learn to associate the patterns and habits of this unpalatable species and avoid ingesting them in future. On account of this protective mechanism, it is often mimicked by other edible Indian butterflies like the Great Eggfly ((Hypolimnas bolina).The resemblance is clearly discernible not only in the body markings but also in the flight pattern and sometimes in behavioral aspects as well. This form of mimicry where an edible species mimics or closely resembles the traits of an inedible species in order to save itself from predators is known as Batesian Mimicry and is common in many species.

Great Eggfly

    

The Common Crow flies with its wings held slightly above the horizontal and perches on leaves for minutes at a time which makes it an ideal subject of photography for butterfly enthusiasts. This butterfly can be photographed at any of the time day, although the ideal time is of course during the early morning hours or late afternoon. This butterfly in found in abundance wherever there is little of patch of green with its host plants which include oleander and milkweeds. 

Constructing one’s own miniature butterfly garden is pretty simple as it only requires the assemblage of some of the particular butterfly’s hostplants (this can be even in the form of potted plants). So next time you find a butterfly pretty or interesting, try to attract it to  your garden so that not only can you admire it, but also do your part in its conservation.

Monocled Cobra

This member of the Cobra family is commonly found near wetland areas. I have always been fascinated by them, more so because of the folk tales I had heard during my childhood where they would be invariably referred to as “kal keute” and were attributed with supernatural powers. I got the opportunity to see a monocled cobra up close only after I became a part of Calcutta Snake Park last year. The first time I saw it, I was struck by the graceful way it carried itself, coiling the lower part of its body, and skillfully balancing its torso on the coils, striking a pose like an elegant lady haughtily contemplating her surroundings and occasionally swaying a little as if trying to hypnotize its audience. The piercing stare, the smooth yet purposeful body movements, and sheer elegance makes the monocellate cobra every wildlife photographer’s dream. Thanks to Dipak Mitra Sir, renowned herpetologist, owner of Calcutta Snake Park and my teacher, I have been able to shoot this cobra a number of times from a very close range. 


One of these memorable occasions took place in a lush green garden in Shantiniketan where Sir had taken one of his monocellates with him for shooting a sequence in a Feluda film. Photographing venomous snakes from a close range is both a thrilling and a nerve wracking experience because you have to search for the closest angles possible while trying to stay out of the striking range of the angry snake. As Sir let the snake out on the grass, for a moment I was rendered speechless–the cobra moved swiftly across the lawn, its dark body with the prominent hood mark contrasting against the bright green sunlit grass, radiating sheer iridescence, which made it look more than ever like one of those magical creatures from my childhood tales. At one point, when Sir was distracting the snake with his hand, I went close to take a side shot, and was awed by the defiant way it held itself, even when confronted with so many humans. 

The next time when I got to shoot the monocled up close, the whole thing turned out to be one of the most exciting experiences of my life- Sir taught me the techniques of handing a cobra. Monocled cobras are generally short tempered and raise their hood even when slightly irritated. The snake was about four and a half feet in length. Once put on the ground, it raised its hood and started hissing and striking, trying to escape from the group of humans surrounding it. One of the staff of the Calcutta Snake Park came forward, got a firm grip near its tail and handed me a snake handling stick. I gripped the snake near its tail firmly, gently slid the stick under its belly to support it and then raised the stick with the snake on it. At first the snake seemed confused, moving its head from side to side, agitated as everybody tried to distract it so that I could figure out the correct way to hold the stick. Gradually, it calmed down a little and balanced itself on the stick with its hood raised. I noticed every detail of the eye-shaped circular hood mark which distinguishes it from other cobras. It looked almost like a work of art, vibrant and gorgeous, a reminder of the unparalleled beauty which nature is capable of unfolding before us. For a moment I forgot that I was holding a venomous snake capable of killing me with one bite if it could inject the lethal dose. I was holding the snake midway from the ground and I could see the top of its head, and the way it nervously moved its head to look at the string of humans standing so close. Viewed from that angle, in spite of its majestic demeanor, it looked vulnerable and somehow reminded me of the way my cats look when I hold them close to my chest. I could not help but feel a wave of pity for it. The “fearsome”, “aggressive” “poisonous” cobra so feared and hated by humans, seemed to be nothing but another frightened creature struggling to survive in the face of systematic decimation of its environment by humans. I suddenly felt a lump form in my throat as I realized that despite the fact that this planet belongs to them as much as it does to us, they are fugitives, misunderstood, hated, killed, hunted by snake charmers, and robbed off their habitats by the mad rush for unplanned urbanization and development.

I held the snake for a second time after I let it go on the ground and this time I was more confident as a result of which the snake was also more relaxed. It was one of the most memorable experiences of my life, not only because I had handled a venomous snake, but because the experience had greatly strengthened my resolve to get more involved in the struggle to save these misunderstood creatures from extinction.

Monocellate cobras are extremely shy of humans and never venture close to them. Even if they encounter humans, they simply move away. The only time they become defensive is if they are provoked or cornered. I had once encountered a spectacled cobra on the hills near Elephanta Caves. It was gliding across a rocky boulder on the hillside. When I ventured close to take pictures, it stopped for a moment to give me a curious glance and then resumed its journey lazily without paying any further attention to me. A spectacled cobra, however, generally does not get agitated as fast as the monocled cobra and it takes some time for it to get angry and raise its hood. I have seen the same behavior in captive ones at Calcutta Snake Park.

Ninety percent of the time the amount of venom injected by a cobra bite is too little to cause any serious harm. Potency of cobra bites is also low as compared to, say, that of the members of the krait family and only in five percent of the cases the bite may prove to be fatal. In a majority of the cases, the victims die of cardiac arrest which happens out of fear. Sometimes deaths happen on account of ignorance. Sir once spoke of an incident in Sundarbans where a young boy had died of “snake bite”. When Sir was called to examine the body, he found the teeth of checkered keelback lodged in the skin near the bite wound. Checkered keelback is non-venomous snake commonly found near water bodies which primarily feed on fish. Curious to know how the boy could die from the bite of a non-venomous snake, Sir questioned the boy’s family. The boy’s parents had taken him to an “ojha” who had advised them to feed him poison based on the old Bengali adage, “bishe bisho khae hae” (one poison cancels out the effect of another poison). Following the advice of the ojha, the boy’s father made him drink folidol and the boy died immediately. Everybody  had thought he had died because of cobra bite!!!

This is not to say that you should treat a cobra like your pet dog. It is a reptile. It does not have the requisite intelligence to recognize love and emotions. For it, striking is a defensive mechanism to protect itself when an enemy comes too near. Accordingly, the most sensible thing to do is to leave it alone.  A wild animal should be treated with respect and each and every one of us should maintain our distance from it. If you see a snake, do not unnecessarily disturb it or make it feel threatened by going too near it. If you leave it alone, the snake will also mind its own business because a snake almost never strikes unless it feels cornered.

While learning how to handle a snake is important if you are planning to conduct rescues, you should handle them in the wild only when absolutely necessary. Snake handling has a certain appeal to it because the close proximity with the snake helps you to understand its behavior, body language and muscle movement. Personally I think that it is the best way to spread awareness and debunk some of the common myths about snakes. However, one must remember that just like a human being, no two snakes are alike.  Every snake has a different personality. If you have handled a cobra in captivity, there is no guarantee that you can handle its counterpart in the wild with equal ease. Thus, unless you are faced with a situation where you need to rescue a snake urgently, never attempt to hold a snake.