It was a hot summer evening in July 2018, and I was at my Uncle’s house. My little cousin had just drawn a watercolour painting which he was showing to me, waiting for me to give an expression of admiration and appreciate him. While I was still looking at the picture, my phone rang. Though I was not in a mood to attend any phone calls, it was from one of my closest friends, and ignoring it was out of question. So before saying something about the watercolour painting placed before me, I answered the call and gave a warm greeting to my friend.  The voice from the other side of the phone alerted me immediately.  It was a distress call. My friend had encountered a gravely injured baby Kashmiri Stag while he was on his way home

He told me about it in a worrisome tone and I, too, was baffled. The Hangul are a very rare sight now in Kashmir because of underreported poaching, so I asked him if he was sure enough that it was a Hangul and not any other animal. He reassured me that it was indeed a Hangul, gravely injured and grisly bleeding.

I left the watercolour painting on the floor and hurried towards the exit of the house. My cousin sat there, wondering how long he had to wait for the appreciation for his painting.

In a haste, I left my Uncle’s house and summoned another friend of mine on the way who agreed to help us in rescuing the Hangul. We managed to reach the spot as soon as possible. On reaching the spot I found my friend struggling to take the Hangul towards the road in his arms. As heart-warming as it was to see my friend trying his best to save the animal, it was at the same time a troubling sight to see the poor injured Hangul in suffering. On getting closer I noticed its neck was awkwardly positioned, and it worried me that it might be broken. The thought that I was perhaps late, scared me; and to my utter sorrow, I found that the animal in my friend’s arms was lifeless when I reached close enough. I was trying hard to find something to say, gather some words to ask my friend about it, but all in vain. I couldn’t even find my voice. It was as if someone had snatched away my tongue. The three of us kept looking at each other and at the lifeless animal silently; wondering what could have happened if one of us found it a bit earlier. The gloominess surrounding the spot where we stood was more hopeless than the dimness of falling dusk.

While we, with our chests heavy, were about to leave the spot and head back to our homes, something unusual happened. Something which I had least expected, something which remains one my most cherished memories engraved in my mind. Like a flower growing and rising through a crack in cemented pavement, my sprout of bliss grew as the fawn moved its legs, and I realised that it was still alive and we still had a chance.

I looked at my friends and was amused to see wide ear-to-ear smiles on their faces. Wasting no time we decided to take the Hangul to my Uncle’s place, while we simultaneously tried to get in contact with the authorities. They told us to take the fawn in a dim room and give it some milk while they tried to reach us. That few minute journey from that spot to my Uncle’s house seemed unusually long and tiring that day.

We reached the house and did as instructed by the authorities over the phone. The fawn drowsily drank some milk, while we tried to apply bandage on its wounds. Within 10 to 15 minutes, the bleeding had stopped and the animal had stabilised significantly. The Wildlife Department was quick to react and took effective action and reached the spot within an hour or so and took responsibility for the Hangul.

They applauded me for my quick thinking and the work that I had done by saving the pride of Kashmir.

It would be fair to say that it was indeed the most exhilarating experience of my life and even now it is hard to put the feeling it gave me into words. It would have been impossible to save the little Hangul had my friend Owais not informed me in time. A special gratitude of thanks to him.

And finally when all of this was over, I had to complete a task which I left incomplete some hours ago. I patted my cousin on his back and appreciated him for his watercolour painting.

Author:
Mir Muhammad Jafar ————————————————————————————————————-
Jafar is currently pursuing Masters in Kashmiri from the University of Kashmir. He is also working as an announcer at All India Radio, Srinagar. He is an avid birdwatcher and a wildlife enthusiast. His interest for birds and animals started when he first encountered an injured Tawny owl from his area. He was able to successfully rescue and release the injured bird. Since then Jafar is the hero of his  area, Kangan. His love for wildlife has inspired many young people. He has also trained a few in case of any mishaps related to wildlife.

Author can be reached at mmirjafar1134@gmail.com