In the balmy, barmy days before conservation,
our local zoo had an Indian elephant
which gave rides, complete with howdah
and mahout. He had been recruited
from Kerala and he and has family
settled, as Commonwealth citizens,
in a small, suburban semi within sound
of imitation jungles and savannahs.
In time, the circus animals deserted
or were abandoned, and, as the
euphemism has it, ‘he lost his job’,
becoming a porter at the train station
(when there were such posts) –
‘Jaldi, jaldi, haathi!’ was replaced by
‘Porter, porter, sir?’ I recall him
dour in his British Rail uniform –
and, appropriately moustached,
grinning astride the elephant’s neck.
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