As we sat there sipping the unusually sweet toddy we could see, just outside the window, a crowd gathers up, on the narrow stretch that borders the river. It was not a crowd in the actual sense, just a small gathering. Perhaps they must have been hanging around there for quite some time. The evening sky was blazing with a bright hue of red. Red, it was to come, to flow.
Then they came with the roosters; one a spotless white and the other a riot of colours.My friend suggested going out to have a better view, but then it was not required as we still had one. By that time the ‘warming up’ had begun. The majestic roosters were caressed, fondled and sprinkled with water by their respective ‘Chicken Georges’, of course the desi versions.
Then I saw a box passed over several hands. A close view and that it was, a Nataraj Instrument Box. It was neatly tied in the centre with a wide rubber band. What does a Nataraj Instrument Box got to do with Cockfighting? The ‘instruments’ it contained were lethal enough to decide the destiny of the roosters, I understood as someone opened it. Small sword-like pieces of steel, bright and shining. After carefully examining each piece the men chose two. One for each rooster. Once ‘equipped’, they were left in the arena outlined by the men around.
First, both of them sprang up in the air and in that flurry flew feathers and dust. Then, it began. Raw violence that erupts from the instinct to survive, kill or be killed. The method of overpowering was to jump on the other’s back and force it to the ground. And in that process, as if to offer a better show, there appeared a stream of blood on the white rooster’s back. Fatal it was, for it could never recover from that. Within a few minutes it was all soaked in blood. But the men were in no mood to allow it to give up. It was forced back to the fight and was ferociously attacked by the would-be champ. Whenever it made an effort to lift its head the winner ensured that it be grounded. Finally, when it became too weak to move, it lay there trying to capture a glimpse of the world in the last moments of its life through half-closed eyes. Then, it was taken away unceremoniously as the men went on with their business of counting the money.
6 comments:
that sounds so brutal...like the bull fighting in Spain..thankfully people are more sensible now..
Well written, Arun. And where did you happen to watch this?
that was in full gory detail. Where did you see this? How did you manage to watch till the finish?
Mathew: Yes, it was brutal…
John: Thanks a lot for dropping by. I watched it in Mangalore.
Sujata: In Mangalore, I was in a toddy induced haze but still it was disturbing. I realized the impact once it’s all over; penning it down helped me a lot.
My god. That was all blood and violence. I won't ask you more, i got all the answers from your reply to the comments.
You are definitely not chicken hearted. You watched the whole thing!
Demons! :)
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