Basking in the glorious morning sun, 75-year-old Soman looks majestic and daunting. The misty morning air has not yet settled when he started walking the narrow streets of Konni. People marvel at him. “Wow! Look at him,” they say, moving aside to give him the right of way.
He makes his presence felt. But his front legs are hobbled together in shackles of wrought iron, making it difficult for him to walk. He limps ahead slowly, his gait curtailed by those dreadful locks. Every step of this majestic, gentle giant tells of an untold misery endured for years–in silence. Like thousands of others, Soman, one of India’s captive elephants, lives a life bound by shackles.
Walking next to Soman is his Mahout – a thin, moustachioed man, in his late forties. Dressed in a green shirt and brown Lungi, he wields a thick bamboo hatchet (called Ankush), commanding Soman with his screeching voice–Aana Badavath, Drrrraaahhh! Aana Badavath!
He is taking Soman to the nearby river. The other elephants held captive at the Konni elephant training camp also walk towards the river with their Mahouts. It’s bathing time for them.
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