Synopsis
Gula is a young fish who lives in the Verinag spring, also known as the Neel-nag (Blue Spring) in Kashmir. He lives there with his mother, Sheer, and his other fish friends, Nika and Kaakh.
The Neel-nag spring is significant since the river Jehlum flows from here into the valley. Neel-nag is surrounded by gardens laid out during the Mughal era and used for leisure in the following centuries.
Gula loves people who love him in return. He is very popular and a great entertainer.
The stories (a set of 10) revolve around various problems that arise and the ensuing conundrums, which Gula solves with wit and patience, often helped by his sagely mother and friends.
Some important encounters of his are with Aarath, a snake who is envious of Gula’s popularity, a little girl, an elephant, a bird and some other creatures.
Each story has an implicit moral lesson, teaching children the importance of knowledge, love, patience, humor, compassion, family, friendship, diversity, resolve, and sharing.
Gula had always wanted to meet an elephant.
Not just any elephant but the one whose tales were legendary in the valley. Yes, Taksheem is the one he was thinking of.
He had come to Kashmir in a circus almost 60 years ago and had shown all kinds of funny antics to people.
He twirled on his big toe, danced to music, trumpeted in rhythm with no one in particular. He was unpredictable and that made people even more curious.
He gave rides to children, spurted water on parents; sometimes he would just lie down and people would rub his back while he made giggling noises.
This had the children delighted.
People were transfixed as he pulled one trick after the other.
Taksheem’s stories became a bedtime tradition. Gula was an unabashed fan, but he had never seen him. The circus had closed down long back after a dispute arose between its co-owners. While they bickered with each other, the show became erratic. The clowns would speak nastily, the animals bit their ringmasters and spectators feared for their safety.
Everything went haywire.
Many animals died, while some escaped into the wild.
One day when the owners were throwing things, the animals were caught in between. The porcupine and monkey, the deer and rabbit, birds and reptiles all began running for the exit. Taksheem was huge and slow. The animals began crashing into each other. Taksheem suddenly fell down, as if something had hit him. He began flailing his trunk and legs, and crying as if in great pain.
This continued for days. Thereafter he would chase people, and attack them with his trunk.
His trunk became a weapon.
No one dared to come near him and he left the circus. He began to live a vagrant life; roaming the jungles, the countryside, through the wilderness, and the woods.
Rumors began to float about his belligerence.
People said even if as little as his name was mentioned, he would suddenly appear and attack them, lashing out with his trunk.
Some said he would be at the riverbank near Red Square,, in the night, waving his trunk like a maniac.
Many reported that he had grown very old, and his skin hung down to his ankles.
Others swore he would attack children and drag them away. The children got lost in the forest and returned with frostbitten fingers and toes. Some had disappeared.
People said that Taksheem had stomped on a child who had tried to touch his trunk. Another time, a young mother had found Taksheem curling his trunk around a crib trying to steal the baby. The people of the valley only wary at first, now really feared him.
But none of these appalling stories could fade the excitement that Gula felt when he first listened to Taksheem’s story. He wanted to see him more than ever.
Gula felt that Taksheem must have a reason to behave the way he did. Did someone ever talk to him? No. Gula did not understand how and why a fun-loving elephant would suddenly change so much. No one knew Taksheem’s part of the story.
Gula believed if he met him, he could find out.
So that is what Gula decided one evening.
His mother Sheer agreed, saying it was about time for him to journey outside the spring and into the rest of their beautiful homeland.
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One early morning Gula bid goodbye to Sheer and off he swam into the unfamiliar, long winding river. Although he was happy for the adventure, he was also scared.
Would he be able to meet Taksheem, would he find his way back home? Gula had many questions.
He cast one final look and saw his mother smiling knowingly.
Her eyes prodded him on, just like she would when he was young and would explore things around the spring.
“Touch it dear”, she would encourage him, when he saw a new weed, “it does not hurt”. After touching the greenery, Gula would know it was harmless and would begin playing hide and seek.
Reassured, Gula began inching towards the river. He reached the ledge, where the spring ended in a tiniest waterfall that joined a small paved stream. After a short swim, the river began. No sooner had his snout touched its waters the gush overtook him. Gula began to swim vigorously with the current, exhilarated!
It had been two days since Gula was traveling. He loved the scenery but many times he was scared. Especially during the night when he thought he had strange visions. He saw limp human forms floating by, sometimes what looked like torn clothing. He also saw many shoes.
Everything was quiet except for the sound of water flowing, he was sure he was having nightmares. At times like these he missed the comfort of his spring.
Were these dreams or reality?
During the day everything looked beautiful and sunny and his vigor renewed. “After all, I don’t want this journey to be in vain”, he would remind himself.
He saw fishes big and small; all too busy swimming towards their destination. They hardly exchanged any words, not even a glance. At the slower parts, they would swim close together. Clad in inky blackness they resembled a funeral march in slow motion. Once the water got faster, they would hit high waves and flip over stones. They would see hungry birds the color of green mud and old leaves from strange lands waiting right above to gulp them down.
Gula swam discretely for he had every intention of returning home. He would duck deep towards the riverbed when he saw a bird eyeing him, and when the animals would be drinking water, especially the fish-loving bears.
He remembered all the safety rules his mother had taught him.
Now only if he could meet that elephant soon!
On the fifth day when he was trying push through the weeds, he saw a monkey eyeing him. Now monkeys don’t eat fish, so he felt safe in saying Salaam to him. The monkey raised an eyebrow and said, “You are not from these parts, are you?”
“No, I am a traveler”, said Gula.
The monkey smiled, amused at such a little fellow, pluckily calling himself a traveler. “May I know where you are traveling to?”, he asked.
“I am searching for the elephant”, answered Gula.
“Which elephant?” the monkey asked, with his face creasing.
“The legendary Taksheem, the circus elephant”, said Gula.
“Oh! That one, not seen much now”, replied the monkey.
“Do you know where he can be found?” Gula asked.
“Only when he goes on a rampage, ufffff!” said monkey with a wink.
“Do you think that is true?” asked Gula.
“Rumors are always based on something; no smoke without fire, right? What can I say, but you may want to try to wait for him by the big waters near Red Square; they say he comes out there often”, the Monkey said and vanished into the woods.
The Red Square was not red and that was Gula’s first thought.
He peered up from a mound of trash that lined the edge of the river. He saw masses of fruit skins, juice cartons, old bandages, and rusty tin cans. Gula felt sick and wanted to return to the clean waters of his spring.
“Do the people use this river as a garbage can?” he thought angrily.
Gula recalled how the water that was so filthy and dark, was completely different from the streams that bubbled out from the fresh, translucent waters in the spring he called home.
He could never have imagined how vile the city had turned it.
Gula saw a very unfriendly ruffian duck waddle close by. It turned out he was only jostling for some soggy food that was floating nearby.
Gula watched people as they went about in the Red Square that for a fact looked ashen and grey. Sometimes he would hear a loud boom and smoke would rise into the sky. He would hear shots and see stones flying. People would break into a run and the streets would be empty. Later they filled up again and the hawkers would shout at the top of their lungs.
Gula sat in wait for 3 days. One night a large snake-like arm jutted out from the woods nearby, followed by a billowing body, topped by ears that swayed likes two fans.
People began to run and hide as the animal came close to the water. Gula’s joy knew no bounds. He instantly knew it was Taksheem.
He kept looking at his face and he saw his eyes were the saddest.
Gula did not want to lose a minute. He mustered all the courage he had in his body and swam to the edge where the elephant stood, thrashing his trunk into the water over and over.
Gula was caught in the waves and he flipped his tail, which caught Taksheem’s attention.
“Salaam” said Gula with some trepidation and mustering all his courage.
“Well, who is saying Salaam to me after several decades?” said Taksheem in a voice that seemed had not been used for long.
Gula introduced himself, and by midnight, they were talking like old buddies. It is also when Gula figured out why a gentle fun loving elephant had become so belligerent.
When Gula returned home after receiving a hero’s welcome, he shared Taskheem’s story. It was not based on a rumor or heresy but Taksheem’s own testimony.
When Taksheem’s owners decided to part ways, instead of doing it amicably they began fighting. From the humongous Taksheem to a little grey clown-mouse they bickered over everything.
After they finished saying hurtful things, they would scuffle, trade blows, and throw things at each other. The commotion made the animals go berserk. They would gnarl, claw at their cages, some would moan and hide under their fur.
During one such fight, Taksheem was hit by a porcupine quill, which lodged deep and ran in a long bloody line down his trunk. He began to cry in pain, which kept growing. It made him angry and nasty.
The owners were too busy quarreling. They did not care to know what ailed him.
Over the years Taksheem would approach random people and try to show them his trunk, trumpeting loudly in pain. Not knowing what had happened to him, people would think he was attacking them, and they would run away. Many times they would beat him with sticks and batons. Taksheem told Gula that once he was trying to show his trunk to a young mother and she thought he was taking her baby. And the rumors began to travel that Taksheem had gone mad. He withdrew into the jungles and woods. When the pain overwhelmed him, he tried to enter the town and ask for help from anyone he saw, only to be beaten badly.
No one understood he needed to be helped.
When Gula sat with him patiently that night, Taksheem shared his old wound to someone who cared to listen. He laid his head on the ground as Gula struggled with his tiny fins to prod the quill out. It was hard and he worked a long time with a little help from the dodgy duck who turned out to be not so dodgy.
Taksheem winced in pain; moaning and gasping for breath as Gula and the Dodgy Duck pried at the wound. After the quill came out, it left a long gaping crack in Taksheem’s trunk. Blood gushed into it.
Instead of cry in pain, Taksheem sank into one happy heap and trumpeted softly. His trunk floppy and no more a weapon.
Gula had made sure on his way back he told the story to anyone who cared to listen, including the monkey. He was sure by now people knew.
He kept his fingers crossed, hoping everyone would return to being kind to Taksheem. The poor guy had suffered too much.
Gula himself knew he would meet his new buddy very soon!
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