Deep in the Dehing Patkai Rainforest, after the orange sun sinks below the rolling hills of Mariani and the pink glow of the sky fades to darkness, two emeralds appear, luminous against their charcoal background. They hover in midair, as though by magic, but look carefully, and you’ll see the faint outline of a body accompanying these jewels. It is a male Bengal tiger, awakened by the melodic chirping of the crickets that echoes through the sleepy forest at night. Standing as still as a statue, the tiger waits patiently, his ears erect and his four legs perched firmly on the damp soil. Overhead, the moon glides westward, signalling the progression of time; however, the tiger remains unmoving. All is silent.
Snap! The crunching of a twig interrupts this quietude, its reverberations amplified by the placidity of the forest. Suddenly, the two emeralds disappear. Aroused from his trance, the tiger prowls into action. With extreme stealth, this 351-pound feline tiptoes toward the source of the clamor, using the thick trunks of the eucalyptus trees as shields of protection. Even though the trees are not as numerous as they once were, they are still successful in masking the tiger’s orange and black coat from sight. Reaching a clearing, the tiger stops and surveys the area. A joyful glint manifests in his eyes once he locks sight on his target: a lone deer. Exposing his two sharp upper canines in a gleeful grin, the bengal tiger silently closes in on his prey. His stomach growls, urging him to pounce prematurely; however, this patient predator knows that precision is crucial when hunting. Right now he’s ten feet away-still too far to go in for the kill. He inches closer. Now he’s eight feet away and the doe’s head lifts up, alerted by the sound of faint movement. The tiger halts. Only when the deer resumes its activities does the tiger continue his approach. He’s five feet away now, close enough to hear the gentle sighs of the doe’s breathing. For a brief second, the tiger’s eyes soften as he takes in this peaceful creature, but they soon return to stone. His legs tense and, with a powerful roar, he lunges. Then all is silent again.
In a few hours, the first streaks of gold begin to radiate through the crevices of the expansive canopy, signaling the arrival of dawn. The tiger, satisfied with his sixty-pound meal, retires under the shade of the towering kapok tree that has become the principal landmark of his territory and sleeps. Memories of his childhood come flooding back to him and he pictures himself racing through the forest with his four siblings. When he was younger, he used to love running around with his big brothers, as they would always embark on wondrous journeys and discover hidden secrets about their environment. Everyone was happy back then.
Unfortunately for the tiger, his life has not been the same in recent years. It all changed one day when his mother disappeared. At the time, no one knew what had happened to her and it seemed as though she just vanished into thin air. However, the mystery didn’t stop there. Soon, his whole family was missing and the entire tiger population was at risk. But what, might you ask, was killing off these majestic creatures?
A clanging noise ensuing from the southern border of the forest interrupts the tiger from his dream. Looking to his right, his eyes narrow as he sets his sight on a plump, beast-like man, dressed in a torn white t-shirt and gray work pants. Behind him are several others, trudging noisily through the woods with chainsaws in hand. A plywood factory in Mariani has instigated a tree-felling frenzy over the years, and the tiger’s emerald eyes fill with indignation as he beholds these loggers again. Each day, these unsympathetic tyrants have cut down the treasured trees, destroying the place his striped companions had once called home. Consequently, many tigers have died from this shelter shortage. These hypocritical men try to justify these innocent deaths by calling the tigers monsters; however, they are unaware of the irony in their statement. Many times, the tiger has considered confronting these men and claiming back his land, but doing so would only endanger his own life. Instead, he can only stare as his home is ransacked, helpless.
Later, when the sun begins its descent again and the sweltering heat subsides, the men finally leave, lugging over fifty trees behind them. As soon as their obnoxious and domineering voices vanish from the forest, the tiger approaches their worksite, a distressed frown crossing his face. Tree stumps surround him from all directions. Gone are all the healthy evergreens, and, seeing the destruction that has crossed his home, the tiger becomes enraged at these selfish men. They only need a few trees to sustain their company, but instead choose to cut them down excessively. Unlike the tiger, who hunts out of necessity, these cruel humans seize out of greed, only concerned with ameliorating their own lives. Although they try to disguise themselves as civilized beings through their neat clothing and brushed hair, the tiger sees them for who they truly are: the real monsters.
Unable to look at this now barren landscape any longer, the tiger returns to his shelter under the kapok tree and prepares himself for a night of hunting. Trying to forget the barbarity he witnessed earlier, his look of despondence is replaced by a focused expression. As the hours pass, his body slowly becomes engulfed in the shadow of darkness, until the only remnants that can be seen are two bright emeralds, the last of their kind.