Compassion
& Kindness

I remember my father leaving with the locals and in the evening he informed us that the baby is just doing fine and is undergoing treatment in the local range office. It was yet another incident that I soon forgot. After a week my Pa took us to meet the baby, though it just looked huge to call it a baby. It was a she elephant and had been named as Lohit Kumari (Lohit is the name of the river that brought her along to us). She did look quite friendly and naughty. Except for a few sores on her trunk and foot that were smeared with some white medication that looked like patches, she was quite playful. Me and my brother took an instant liking for her and she too seemed happy when we touched her. We began spending more time with her and she played with us football, loved to run after the ball and sometimes would pull out and throw a bunch of small shrubs at us. As days passed the option to leave her free in the forest came up many times but the dilemma was will she be accepted by another herd or what if a rogue elephant kills her.

One fine morning the news came in that she is coming with us to our ancestral home. Our family had kept elephants for generations and Lohit Kumari will be safe. And off she went in a truck to her new home. The other elephants lived in the forest and helped pull logs to the ply factory or to the nearest trucks. These tamed herd is trained to work. Lohit Kumari was too young to be taken to the jungles and my father decided that she better stayed at home for some months. She was a real darling and everybody doted on her. We played with her most of the time and nobody really bothered to put the chains on her for she was such a pleasant tempered baby.

In our ancestral home the kitchen was separate and a few meters away from the main household. The Kitchen comprised of four rooms and everybody had to take off their footwear at the entrance door. The first was the dining area where everyone would take their meals seated on a bamboo mat especially placed during the meal hours and removed once meals are over. Adjacent to the dining area was the “Pothi” ghar housing the “Bhagwad Geeta”. The kitchen started only after lighting a lamp in the “Pothi” ghar every morning followed by a short “naam” meaning in remembering and praising the lord. Interestingly the “Pothi” was not kept in a small temple or shelf but it was kept inside a huge wooden box and that box was hanged from the ceiling. Only on special occasions the Geeta was taken out and recited.

The dining area was connected by a big door to the kitchen where meals were prepared on firewood “chulhas”. Further to the kitchen was attached the store room that also opened from outside the building. This room stored all the food ingredients like huge pots of grains and basketful of fresh vegetables. The store room also had a “chang” that is overhead storage area made of bamboo sticks and generally used to keep fruits like bananas and vegetables like pumpkins and potatoes.

Since Lohit Kumari was the darling of the family, she had easy access to the store room where she picked up whatever she liked through her trunk, especially ripe bananas. Not before long, it was time for her to go to the forest to be with others and get trained for work. So, she went with her Mahout (the caretaker). Years passed and we kept hearing about her that she had grown into a beautiful adult, kind and very gentle. And finally, one day it was informed that she is returning home for a couple of days on some work. As soon as she arrived, she headed towards the kitchen and hit the storeroom entrance bringing down the big door. Poor Lohit Kumari, little did she realize that she is so grown up now and the door is quite small for her size.

She had a very special connection with my father. He used to either visit her in the forest or asked the mahout to inform about her regularly. As time passed, 20 years to be precise, my father started to keep unwell and took voluntary retirement from his service and shifted back to our ancestral home. One morning he passed away. Everyone at home were busy with the last rites and rituals when the news came in that Lohit Kumari has vanished from the forest. But no one had to time to look for her and so passed three days. On the 3rd day someone informed that she was there in the cremation ground near my father’s fresh earthen tomb. Back in villages in Assam, generally a person is cremated in a nearby field and after the flowers (remains) have been collected in a vessel, that area is covered with soil which gives the look of a tomb. Everyone from the family rushed there to bring her back home but she did not move. On the 13th day when the death ceremony concluded and family members went to light the final lamp of farewell in the cremation ground, Lohit was found lying there, her body stiff with no sign of life. She left behind her a little one, whom we named “Rani” meaning the queen and now this queen rules everyone’s heart at home.

This is the story of a baby elephant named Lohit Kumari. My father, who was serving as a forest officer, rescued her after she was separated from her herd during a flash flood on the Lohit River. Despite some initial conflict among the local villagers regarding her fate, she was brought to the local range office for treatment.

When my brother and I first met her, she was playful and friendly, and we quickly formed a bond. Because of the risks associated with releasing her back into the wild, my father eventually decided to bring her to our ancestral home, where our family has kept elephants for generations.

Lohit Kumari became a beloved part of our household. Unlike the older elephants who worked in the forests, she stayed at home and was never chained due to her gentle temperament. I have fond memories of her playing with us near our traditional kitchen, which was a separate building featuring a dining area, a "Pothi" ghar for sacred texts, and a store room filled with fresh produce.

As the darling of the family, she always had easy access to the storeroom, where she would use her trunk to pick out whatever she liked, especially ripe bananas.

Eventually, it was time for her to go to the forest with her Mahout to be with others and begin her work training. Years passed, and we frequently heard updates about how she had grown into a beautiful, kind, and gentle adult.

We were recently informed that she would be returning home for a couple of days for work. As soon as she arrived, she headed straight for the kitchen and hit the storeroom entrance, accidentally bringing down the large door. Poor Lohit Kumari—she didn't realize how much she had grown and that the door was now far too small for her size.

My late father and Lohit shared an extraordinary bond. Throughout my father maintained a close connection with Lohit Kumari, visiting her in the forest or receiving regular updates on her well-being. Following his retirement and subsequent passing twenty years later, Lohit Kumari unexpectedly disappeared from the forest. Three days after my father's passing, she was discovered at his cremation site, remaining by his tomb despite our family's efforts to bring her home.

On the thirteenth day, as we concluded the final death ceremony rituals, we found that Lohit Kumari had passed away at the site.

She left behind a calf whom we have named Rani. Today, Rani lives with us and has truly captured all of our hearts.

A personal story that truly captures the spirit of profound loyalty and trust.