Footprints in the park

Only afterwards did it strike me that the cats were every bit as frightened as I was, likely even more. That, for various reasons; but consider this one: it isn8217;t wild animals who win when they run into mankind. If we8217;re talking about death, on the evidence leopards have far more to fear from us than we do from them.

Of course, this is about the recent leopard attacks in Mumbai. A friend who went to photograph the captured animals spoke of just what I felt in Namibia: even though they were in cages, they exuded a menace that had him shivering while he took his shots. Yet, like me, he was also conscious how frightened the animals were.

None of this should take away from the tragedy of the last few weeks, the way several hapless citizens have been killed by leopards on the fringes of the Borivli National Park. This should never have happened. How sad that it takes these grisly deaths to alert us to the growing crisis in this sanctuary, to the increasingly contentious line between man and animal in our country.

But what8217;s the answer? I8217;m unwilling to accept that there should be any more slaughter, yet unable to see how there won8217;t be further confrontations. Because throughout history, men have moved into spaces originally occupied by animals. Throughout history, this has been a traumatic process, even though animals have lost every time and will lose this time as well, here in Borivli.

Try it yourself: what8217;s the answer? Move the animals? What8217;s the guarantee they will survive in a new habitat, in unfamiliar surroundings probably claimed by other big cats who would be hostile to newcomers? Build a fence? Who will build it? Who will police it to prevent breaches by people eyeing the land and resources of the park?

Release pigs, rabbits and stray dogs into the park, as food for the cats? Is that enough food? Will there be unpredictable side-effects that produce further headaches, as with other cases where animals were introduced like this for one reason or another? What about food for the introduced animals?

Keep the areas adjoining the park strictly garbage-free, thus stray-dog-free, thus perhaps leopard-free? Forgive my cynicism, but given how openly garbage sits around everywhere I go in this city, I can8217;t quite believe in a solution that is founded on an overnight cleanliness.

Move the people? Forgive my cynicism again, but our track record with displaced people is hardly reassuring. Besides, the sheer numbers 8212; tens of thousands of people 8212; make this a daunting prospect. Where8217;s the space? How will they commute, or will there be jobs for them there? Why wouldn8217;t they simply move back?

Sadly, and though I long to be proved wrong, only one answer looks likely to come about: the cats die. That is, either they are deliberately killed, or they are moved and die in their new homes. Or they simply lose 8212; as they must and will 8212; the tug of war with humans in Borivli. Because as long as this city remains the engine of growth it is, the magnet for unemployed people it is; as long as widely affordable housing remains as unaddressed an issue as it is; as long as these truths about Bombay hold, there will be steady encroachment on that park space. A steadily shrinking space for leopards.

Sure, this is a process that has gone on throughout history. But a historical perspective on what8217;s going on in Borivli doesn8217;t make it easier to stomach.

So I savour that day in Namibia. Because of that fearful thrill that ran through my body then, yes. But also because I think I understood what true fear is. It wasn8217;t what I felt. It was inside the cage.