Bear Majesty
A Satirical Tale from the Self-Proclaimed King of Deosai.
The famous tourist destination of Deosai in Gilgit-Baltistance province of Pakistan was declared a National Park in 1993, primarily to protect the Himalayan brown bear, which was then facing a grave threat of extinction. The following story is narrated from the perspective of Deosai’s very own Bear Majesty, the self-proclaimed king of these magnificent plains.
Claws clenched… tail held high… eyes straight ahead!
Silence… attention… stand at ease!
The pride of the Himalayas… the glory of Pakistan… the very iconic figure of Deosai… Our Most Esteemed Majesty, Lord Bhalu Shah Bahadur, arrives in person to address the courtesans.
Alas! What miserable times have befallen us? We cannot even find a herald to announce our arrival. There was a time when armies of bears would wander about, petitions tied to their tails, begging for the honour of becoming our subjects. We would keep them waiting, offering one assurance after another. And it was not only bears who struggled for our favour. Flying squirrels, musk deer, Ladakhi urials, ibexes, red foxes, and snow wolves were all eager to lay down their lives at the slightest movement of our eyebrows. Sadly, the passage of time and the hands of hunters have driven them all from the land of Deosai. Even more distressing is the fact that no one seems to mourn the extinction of this rare and precious Himalayan wildlife.
We often look back with envy upon the golden age when our ancestors roamed the vast expanses of Deosai in search of food, and no one dared intrude upon their dining grounds. Our terror and ferocity were legendary, from Skardu to Astore. Whenever the mood took us, we would raid neighbouring settlements, devour a few chickens for lunch and a tender young goat or lamb for dinner, and then return home.
After boasting so extravagantly, Our Majesty sees no harm in admitting that one disobedient creature — a snow leopard — occasionally dared to challenge us and lay claim to a share in our kingdom. Since brown bears greatly outnumbered snow leopards in Deosai, and democracy reigned supreme in this land, the rebellious creature’s wicked ambitions never succeeded.
Our majesty’s ancestors continued to rule Deosai without a rival.
Besides, what competition could this tiny, toy-like animal possibly offer to our magnificent, gigantic race? Its weight ranges from a mere thirty-five to fifty-five kilograms, and its body measures only three to four and a half feet in length.
And we?
Our Majesty does not care to blow his own trumpet, but, for the sake of the record, wishes to point out that our weight can reach one hundred to two hundred kilograms, and when standing upright, we can attain a height of six to nine feet.
In light of this comparison, if Our Majesty considers the snow leopard a case of “much ado about nothing,” what possible objection could there be?
There can be no doubt about our Majesty’s intelligence and wisdom. Yet we remain utterly baffled by the reason our late great-grandfather always forbade us to stand our ground before this insignificant creature. His Imperial Highness’s final advice on his deathbed was that we should, as far as possible, avoid encounters with the ungrateful snow leopard. This wretched creature does not hesitate to attack an inhabitant four times its own weight.
Our Majesty took this final advice to heart, for he was four times as heavy as a snow leopard, but not five times. Thanks to our great-grandfather’s blessings, we have so far been spared the sight of a snow leopard, for the hunters have graciously rid Deosai of this arrogant and ill-mannered beast.
Should we ever come face to face with one, well… we shall see.
And what is there to see? If Her Majesty the Queen Mother is not by our side, our Majesty would much prefer to tuck our royal tail between both legs and make a hasty retreat to our cave.
The hunters were equally determined to wipe out the royal bear dynasty, but despite all their efforts, Our Majesty continues to roll about in the meadows of Deosai and flourish. Twenty years ago, only nineteen members of our royal lineage remained in Deosai. The amusing part is that Grandfather had no idea his dynasty was on the verge of extinction, for His Imperial Highness placed unwavering faith in official records. And according to those records, no fewer than six hundred and fifty Himalayan bears were roaming the land of Deosai, trampling its very soil.
When the Himalayan Foundation’s report was published, Grandfather began making plans to devour the record-keepers alive. But when he was informed that these gentlemen were the undisputed champions of Pakistan in the art of manipulating figures, and had already convinced a public capable of turning itself into suicide bombers that the national treasury was overflowing with foreign exchange reserves, that Swiss bank accounts were bursting at the seams, and that surplus banknotes had to be disposed of through foreign tours, Grandfather laughed himself silly. Impressed by the record-keepers’ magical skills, he graciously forgave them.
Our Majesty is not accustomed to offering apologies, but nevertheless regrets that we have failed to provide a proper introduction. Our Majesty’s forefather — our meaning, of course, is Father Bear — was born among the frozen wastes and tundra of Alaska. It was from there that our race spread across the world. Although we come in black, grey, and brown, we prefer to be known as brown bears.
Wherever our ancestors settled, they made themselves at home and adapted their habits and ways to local conditions. There are approximately fifteen subspecies of our race. The branch that resides in the lap of the Himalayas is known as the Himalayan brown bear. Our family has lived in Deosai for ages and possesses certain characteristics not found among our foreign relatives. For this reason, our community came to be known as the Deosai bears.
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According to Our Majesty’s information, the Golden Bear of California, the Atlas Bear that once ruled the Atlas Mountains, and the Mexican Bear that roamed Mexico have all disappeared from this mortal world. Our own lineage, the Deosai bear, is also facing the grave threat of extinction.
The Himalayan Wildlife Federation and the Government of Pakistan are making every possible effort to save our race, for which we remain deeply indebted to both. To demonstrate our gratitude, we have solemnly renounced the hunting of chickens and goats in neighbouring settlements, at least until the protective barbed-wire fences surrounding these villages are removed. We trust that the villagers, too, will be grateful to us.
For centuries, Our Majesty has been regarded as the uncrowned king of the boundless expanses of Deosai. Not only are we the heavyweight champions of this land, but we are also capable of running at speeds of sixty kilometres per hour and covering distances of twenty-five to thirty kilometres in a single breath.
Despite possessing such tremendous physical strength, Our Majesty is rather shy when it comes to dining. We prefer to fill our bellies before sunrise or after sunset. During this brief period, we can easily polish off forty to fifty kilograms of food.
Our menu includes small sheep and goats, marmots, trout, rabbits, squirrels, and various other small creatures. When meat is unavailable, we make do with grasses, vegetables, herbs, and plant roots. For dessert, we have a particular weakness for mulberries, sweet potatoes, and honey.
Unfortunately, these delicacies are nowhere to be found in Deosai.
Whenever we venture into human settlements in search of such treats, the unkind humans point their guns at us and attempt to take our lives. Our Majesty has no objection to dying, for death is the natural order of existence. Besides, our average lifespan is about twenty years, after which we must depart from this mortal world. But the thought of what hunters do to our skins and certain very private parts after shooting us forces us to suppress even the desire for a sweet dish.
Our Majesty has reserved the months of May and June for our amorous adventures — or, to be more precise, our bear-like romantic pursuits. During these months, we visit our queen and make every possible effort to perpetuate our race.
Unfortunately, Her Majesty queen darling are rather indolent, and our efforts do not always meet with success. In this respect, we envy the marmots and marmotesses, who cooperate enthusiastically with one another in scoring fours and sixes. Our Majesty’s sluggish life partner, despite all the strokes delivered with heart and soul, rarely allows us to score more than a single run. And after giving birth, she goes on a four-year ‘strike’, refusing to conceive again and bringing our day-and-night efforts to naught.
It should be remembered that polygamy is not permitted in our society, and we cannot adapt two queens in a single season. Our Majesty has repeatedly introduced resolutions in the Royal Assembly seeking the repeal of this unreasonable restriction. However, the honourable members threaten to move a vote of no confidence against us whenever the proposal is raised, chiefly because the number of She-bears in Deosai is already so small.
As soon as July begins, we abandon our romantic pursuits and turn our attention to the more pressing business of filling our bellies. At times, we consume more food in a single day than our own body weight. This surplus nourishment is stored beneath our skin in the form of fat.
Our fat reserves are our most valuable asset for surviving the winter. During the heavy snowfall, no food is available to us. As soon as the snow begins to fall, We constructs a snow cave and retires into it for approximately seven months, enjoying a peaceful slumber. This state of sleep is known as hibernation. During this period, the stored fat supplies all the energy our bodies require.
The amusing part is that, while we are fast asleep, Her Royal Highness gives birth to the heir to the throne, and we remain completely unaware that we have become fathers.
When the snowfall ends and summer begins, we awaken. By then, however, we are extremely thin and can be hunted with ease. During this period, we survive mainly on grasses and vegetation, for trout and marmots are beyond our reach.
Once we regain some strength and a fresh layer of fat begins to accumulate, we become madly eager for Her Royal Highness’s company. It is then that Our Majesty finally discovers the answer to a perplexing question: why do humans go even madder than bears in their desire to benefit from our fat?
Our Majesty is delighted to reveal that the Abominable Snowman of folklore and the Yeti of fantastical adventure films are nothing but mythical versions of our own kind. We have ourself enjoyed these stories and films, but considers it a solemn national duty to condemn the character assassination of the bear community portrayed in them. The tales of romantic liaisons between our royal lineage and human women are entirely fabricated, utterly immoral and deeply insulting for our gentle community. No bear belonging to our noble race could possibly be so lacking in taste as to abandon his own she-bear and go wagging his tail after Phoenix Grant, the heroine of the film Yeti. She may be considered a beauty queen by foolish human males, but she failed to impress Our Majesty in the slightest. We therefore consider it Our royal duty to instruct Hollywood, Bollywood, Lollywood — or, indeed, all the woods — that, should they ever wish to explore this subject again, they must cast Our darling Queen in the leading role. Otherwise, all rights to tear the filmmaker limb from limb and devour him are hereby reserved exclusively to the Bear Kingdom of Deosai — the land of titans, as you very well know.
Claws clenched… tail held high… eyes straight ahead!
Silence… attention… stand at ease!
The month of May has begun.
Our Royal Majesty sets forth to present Our petition for a union with the Queen of Beauty of Deosai.
The royal court is adjourned till Romantic season ends.
Our Majesty will graciously return after June.
Take care, and be carefull.
