How a magnificent lion grew accustomed to easy meals, forgetting the wild truth: those who do not strive, perish
By Hilal Bukhari
The lion is called the king of the jungle, but when a king is exiled from his realm and locked behind iron bars, he ceases to be a monarch and becomes merely a helpless creature.
Such was the fate of Marjaan, a magnificent lion captured from a German forest and carried thousands of miles away to a zoo in Afghanistan. There, people flocked to see him. They brought gifts and offerings; bits of meat, food, and fruit as if paying homage to a dethroned emperor.
Slowly, Marjaan grew accustomed to this new life of ease. When sustenance is served without struggle, the mind begins to despise labour and to mock those who toil. Captivity breeds comfort, and comfort dulls the soul.
When a ruler is turned into an exhibit, he no longer commands reverence — he becomes entertainment. Marjaan was no longer the king of his forest, yet he remained the jewel of the zoo. Humanity, ever selfish, takes pleasure in making others, even beasts, live as spectacles for its amusement. A creature that performs for others in chains loses its true self, whether it realises it or not.
The zoo held many other animals, some stranger and more beautiful than Marjaan, yet people’s hearts were drawn to him alone. Humanity has always worshipped power; it has forever taken pride in flattering kings and politicians.
But nothing in this world remains the same forever.
When people suffer war, they long for peace. When peace endures too long, they grow restless, and from that restlessness arises violence. A spark becomes a blaze, and the blaze becomes an inferno that devours all.
Then came the Socialist Revolution, and with it, war. Like all wars, it consumed thousands of lives and reduced countless homes to dust. The zookeeper who cared for Marjaan perished in the conflict, and much of the zoo was destroyed. Yet by chance, or perhaps by destiny, Marjaan survived.
He lived, but hunger tormented him.
In the wild, a lion feeds through labour and strength. Nature decrees that those who strive survive, and those who do not perish. Whether the predator or the prey, the secret of life lies in effort. If the prey ceases to struggle, it is caught; if the predator grows idle, it starves.
In captivity, the hunter becomes a slave; a prisoner of circumstance. Marjaan, the emperor of predators, was reduced to helplessness.
One day, two young men came to the ruins of the zoo. They stood before Marjaan’s cage, staring in awe. Then, as youth often does, they let recklessness masquerade as courage. One challenged the other: Who dares to touch the lion?
Madness and bravado are the twin masks of youth. To prove his manhood, one of them slipped inside the enclosure.
Hunger can turn even a man into a beast; what mercy can you expect from one whose very nature is beastly? Within minutes, Marjaan had seized the boy, crushed his bones, and devoured him. The other youth watched in horror as his friend disappeared before his eyes. Rage boiled within him, and vengeance became his faith.
In another country, he might never have had the chance to avenge. But this was a land where revenge had become a way of life, where tribes, sects, and families fought endlessly, killing in the name of faith, of honour, of blood. Violence became a chain reaction, and the nation lived forever on the edge of ruin.
Days later, the vengeful youth returned. In his hand was a grenade. He pulled the pin and threw it into the lion’s cage.
Hunger blinds the living; it robs them of reason. Mistaking it for food, Marjaan caught the grenade in his jaws and bit down. The explosion tore through his mouth, leaving it mangled and bleeding.
The boy had wanted the lion to die screaming, but fate denied him that satisfaction. Marjaan did not die. He writhed in pain and hunger, longing for death, but death refused him.
Years later, another war came, this time in the name of freedom and democracy. Bombs rained again, and the earth burned anew. The zoo was hit; one by one, all the animals perished.
All but one.
Marjaan, the lion who had once ruled a forest, who had known hunger, pain, and war, survived once more. He never cursed his captors, nor prayed for death. He endured, wounded and starving, proving that every living being knows one sacred duty: to live, no matter what.
But even endurance has its limits.
One cold morning, weakened by hunger, Marjaan lay down in his cage, the same cage that had stolen his kingdom, his freedom, and his roar; and breathed his last.
He did not die as a king, nor as a killer, but as a captive who had fought till his final breath to remain alive.
The writer is a teacher in the J&K education department
bu*****************@***il.com