One need not watch her closely or for long to know that Laxmi is street smart. Thankfully, that is the only quality that remain from her Mumbai days, where she was forced to beg for food and loose change on the streets near the Mulund railway station. Now fresh fruits are brought to her by her caretaker at the Wildlife SOS - Elephant Conservation and Care Centre in Churmura, Mathura district, Uttar Pradesh.
Laxmi, like most elephants in captivity, was taken away from her herd at a very young age and tamed brutally. These majestic creatures are crushed into submission until they obey every command. Shivam Rai, head coordinator of the elephant project at Wildlife SOS, calls it “breaking their spirit”. They are trained to perform and beg for their captors. For 18 years, Laxmi did that, wearily and silently, before she was rescued in 2013. “Vada pavs were her favourite,” recalled Rai, with a bittersweet smile.
Two good: Laxmi with her caretaker. Elephants have a special bond with their caretakers, no one except their caretakers go near them.
When Laxmi was brought to the centre, she was overweight, with excess fat and sagging skin that almost hid her eyes. Her forelimbs were bent unnaturally outward that made every step excruciating. Her rescue happened only because another slightly older elephant with a similar history had collapsed and died on the road. That put the spotlight on Laxmi, as concerns were raised about the plight of elephants. The Wildlife SOS team submitted health reports and every piece of evidence to strengthen its case for her rescue. Finally, at 18, Laxmi found freedom, and a home. “We gave a healthy, loving home to the most adorable, intelligent, foodie elephant in our care centre,” said Rai.
Fruits being cut for her breakfast
Today, at 30, Laxmi is living up to all those adjectives Rai used to describe her. Her day begins with a feast of fresh fruits―bananas, pumpkins and apples. Her eyes light up and her pace picks up on seeing the caretaker. Her bucket, filled with her special diet, is empty in no time, but her trunk never stops darting around, looking for just one more morsel. And while she is busy emptying the bucket, she is keenly aware of her caretaker’s movements―she knows he will be soon back with her beloved sugarcane cart. Around her enclosure are contraptions to slow her down: cages with small openings just enough for a trunk, hooks on poles to hang the sugarcane, and drums hung on ropes with holes that dispense tiny amounts of nuts when tugged.
Grooming session: Laxmi having her nails checked at the centre.
Her caretaker first cuts and puts a fairly large number of sugarcane in the cage. This gives him time to hang sugarcane around the enclosure. He starts hanging pairs of sugarcane on each pole only to find them gone, with Laxmi smirking. “Dekhiye, yeh aisa hi karti hain [Look, she does this every time],” said the caretaker, smiling. He continues hanging all the sugarcane and watches her finish everything.
Laxmi’s caretaker gives her a bath
Rai couldn’t help but chuckle as he said, “There are two kinds of workers―hard workers and smart workers. She is definitely a smart worker.” He cites examples to prove his point: The nuts were put in a drum and hung high to slow Laxmi down, giving time for the caretakers to do other stuff, but she learnt to untie the knots and bring the drum down. She even mastered the art of unlatching the enclosure door. It was no surprise the food storage room was the first place she visited. Her poor caretaker endured the blame of not closing the gates properly until one day she was caught red-handed on camera.
Bath time can be a challenge for most animals, but not for Laxmi. She sits obediently and enjoys it while her caretaker sprays her with water and scrubs her down. But once she is done with the bath, she sprays mud all over her back. This has earned her the moniker ‘The Muddiest Elephant’ at the centre.
Shivam Rai
As the day winds down, Laxmi enjoys her favourite time of the day with a long walk in the open fields behind the centre. She is joined by her best friends Bijli and Chanchal. They mostly spend their time toying with monkeys or watching peacocks or the sun set.
After years of suffering, Laxmi finally seems at peace. Said Rai, “99.6 per cent of elephants in captivity suffer from some physical or mental disease.” Laxmi was no exception. All she needed was loving care.