They think we are wild. It’s funny because we think they are. We’ve been here long, long before them. Our fathers, our forefathers have roamed the wild forests for thousands of years. Our songs tell us about their life – so free – so happy.

These forests are home. It’s ours. It’s always been ours. They will never understand that. When they bring their axes and mercilessly chop trees down, they don’t realize that we bleed. When they bring their guns and hunt for game, little do they realize that they are playing with our spirit.

 The spirit of the wild.

In lush green-ness

In glistening dewdrops

In perfect still

And soothing calm

We are there

Though you know not

When your hair rises up in terror

A low growl, deep and resonant

Reaches your heart

And all you want to do is flee

But you stand rooted, sweating

You will sense the power

The spirit of the wild

In rippling forest streams

Sparkling and bubbling, crystal clear

Splashing white froth on moist black rocks

Mischievously flowing away

You can feel the spirit of the wild

In the deep roar of the lion

The growl of a leopard

The trumpeting of an elephant

In the stillness of the night

You can hear the spirit of the wild

In our elements, in our fury, man will tremble. He will sweat. He knows the spirit of the wild. And he knows we can never be tame.

The lands we roamed free on are now sad remnants of wild beauty. Gone are the green bamboo groves, the banyan trees that we worship, the wild orchids that bloom in the beauty of the twilight, the moss and lichen covered trees that shelter so many birds, so colourful, brilliant and graceful…and along with them have disappeared the herds of wild elephants that roamed freely, the bisons, the puma, the wolves and the rabbits.

The civilized man is moving in. Civilizing everything that comes his way. And in that process, we are slowly dying. Exterminated. Extinct. Trees that have taken hundreds of years to grow are being felled in minutes…to make glorious coffins for the civilized man to decay in. Thousands of acres of lush bamboo groves…decimated to feed his early morning hunger to know what’s going on.

They just seem to want a lot more! They have no respect. For nature. Even for us. The Spirit of the Wild. And they seem to be very greedy. They always want more. More tusks. More skins. More meat. More wood. More sandal. More everything. And once they take everything, they want the land. Despite all this greed, they do not seem to be happy. They come back!

Then they sit quietly around searching for inner peace. Sages. They are amazed at our happiness. They just can’t understand how we can go around with a song on our lips. They seem to be so disgusted with their own lives, in-spite of having everything they need, and don’t need.

There is another category of despicable human beings who come here. Tourists. Merrymakers. Once they are here, they leave their trail. Crushed plastic cups, empty bottles flung and broken into sharp fragments of glass that can pierce into our feet, and worst of all, cigarette butts that cause raging forest fires. We have been mute spectators to it all. And we have been silent all the while.

They don’t spare the water either. The rippling streams of sparkling white water is now black. Another result of their progress in life. They have found that the best way to throw away their waste is in water. Water, the sustainer of life is now choking. Strangled by the civilized man.

We’ve been watching. And we’ve been waiting. Man in his impunity feels he can tame us.

Even though he has mowed the forests down mercilessly and turned lush moist greenery

into parched brown arid lands…

Even though he’s caged us and tormented us and whipped us into submission…

Whatever he does, it really doesn’t matter

We’re the spirit of the wild.

And we’re alive.

And those men who’ve come face to face

They know what it means

To meet the Spirit of the Wild.

And once they know, they leave us alone.

They know.