The experience of almost getting trampled by a wild animal

Recounting one of my most dangerous encounters in the wild...

Hey friends,

Greetings from Bangalore, India!

I need your help.

I want your feedback on a For this, I NEED your feedback on my writing.

In keeping with the Write of Passage method (my writing community), you could use the CRIBS framework in assessing this piece. The acronym stands for:-

• C - Confusing

• R - Repeated

• I - Interesting

• B - Boring

• S - Surprising

You can use this to point out parts of the article that need work or merit praise. Feel free to give feedback in any form you like. Even a small comment at the end of the article would greatly help.

If you’re wondering whether I’d be offended by your thoughts, know that I THRIVE on other people’s feedback. It is what opens my eyes to flaws that I was previously blind to. Together, you and I can make this piece the best it can be!

We’ll start off with this draft. Remember, the more critical you are, the better. As one of my friends likes to say, “Feedback is the reminder that there is much for you to improve upon. Accept it with grace and strive harder!”

In the wild, your gut instinct is your most valuable asset. It might often appear irrational and baseless, but it is genuine and can be the difference between life and death. 

In Agumbe, I was once exploring the trails looking for snakes. It was late in the morning, as the sun slowly climbed into the sky. The atmosphere was idyllic, with nothing but a few birds flitting about. Everything seemed calm and serene.

But on some level, I knew something was off. Prompted by some basal instinct, I knew things would go wrong before they did. The hairs on the back of my neck sprang erect as I got the distinct feeling of being watched. Looking around, all I saw was thick bush. My heartbeat grew louder in my chest as I desperately tried to locate the source of my distress. My mouth went dry as I frantically turned around in fright. 

Suddenly, I hear a deafening crash to my left. Something massive was blundering through the forest. All the birds take to the air in fright as this creature tramples through the scrub. In full spiderman style, I crouched on all fours. My breath rapidly quickened. My heart did not get stuck in my throat; it leapt out of my body and ran away, leaving my blood frozen in place. 

Ahead, I see two sharp horns and a patch of black larger than the largest tree trunk. The thundering reality of the event shifted everything into slow motion. My vision tunnelled, adrenaline pulsed through my veins, preparing me for the worst. For a mind-numbing time, I stay primed to make the fastest run of my life. 

The sound of the creature's arrival told me it was bigger than anything I had encountered on foot before. Every inch of my body understood the command of its snort: don't move a muscle. My chin inches from the ground as I nearly blanked out in unseeing terror. I prayed to whatever god up there to spare me from this enormous foe. 

It was a gaur, and in the atmosphere of proximity and thrill, it appeared most formidable. 

Gaurs are the largest wild cattle in the world. They can grow up to 6 feet at the shoulder and often weigh more than a ton. Huge belts of muscles ripple under their glossy black hide as they move. These bovines have enough power to topple a sedan or mini SUV. They don an impressive pair of wickedly sharp horns on their heads and are black all over, except for their limbs. Their lower legs have a white pigmentation, giving them the impression of wearing white stockings. To a gaur, disposing of a human is roughly the same as you or me swatting a mosquito.

I have read numerous accounts of old British officers getting grotesquely gored by gaurs during their time in India. As I stared black death in the face, I could see the next day's headline: "Nineteen-year-old Bangalorean gets trampled by Gaur in Agumbe, Karnataka". It would have been horrible to be picked apart by journalists, calling me a city boy who tried to toy with a wild animal and met death. True, this was a perilous situation to be in, but there wasn't much in my control. All I could have done was stay low and madly hoped the beast chose mercy.

After a blood-curdling eternity, the creature snorted, turned tail and trotted deeper into the jungle. I saw just a sliver of black and white as the animal vanished into the foliage. 

It took a solid 10 minutes for me to get my bearings as colour returned to my face. It was a bombastic reminder that there is never an armistice in the wild. You must forever be vigilant; you never know what lurks beyond the next bush. Stealth and speed are the name of the game. One misstep could be your last. 

To this day, I do not know whether the gaur actually saw me or merely sensed my presence in the air. I am inclined to believe that the gaur decided to spare me. 

 As I descend down the hill, I hear the gaur foraging in the distance. Sheepishly, I crawled back to the field station. 

This Week’s Links

To show you the power of the Indian gaur, see this clip of one nearly toppling an auto rickshaw in India.

How dogs became our best friends.

Being confident on camera: This is a skill I really want to develop. Think about it. Youtubers and other presenters make a living by talking to a camera. From making videos and to zoom calls, this skill will be a massive plus point moving forward.

Postcard

I LOVE vine snakes. They are undoubtedly one of my favourite animals to work with. I can (and have) spend hours jut observing their mannerisms. They never cease to amaze me.

I took this photograph during my stay at Kalinga Centre for Rainforest Ecology (KCRE) last week. It is a research station located deep in the rainforests of Agumbe, Karantaka, India. I found him while herping (searching for snakes and frogs) on one of the many trails that border the station.

While you can’t really see it in this image, this snake had some bad scratches on its body. My guess is that some bird tried to have a go at it but failed to make the kill. Whatever is the case, I was glad that I found it. It was a lovely individual, at least 3.5 feet long.

The rainforest holds many wonders that we will forever be blind too!

PS: I have written extensively on this particular snake. You can read about what this snake taught me about writing here!

Favourite Quote

Got this one from my friend

Alexandra Allen

in last week's issue of her newsletter

Wednesday Wonders

.

“It’s only once you make the process the goal that the big dream can follow.” - Anonymous

Have a creative, energetic and inspiring week!

If you’re new, welcome to The Owlet! My name is Ishan Shanavas, and here I talk about my work, along with curating the most interesting ideas on the internet. I confine them to topics like Nature, Culture, Photography, and Art but often fall prey to other genres.

I would greatly appreciate it if you shared my newsletter and work with your friends. It really helps me out :)