The change-makers
aren’t always the charismatic type. Enthralling speeches aren’t always
necessary to captivate and inspire millions across the world and over decades. It’s
amazing (and amusing) how softly spoken ordinary facts, sprinkled with a bit of
passion or wit, from bland looking individuals can sow a seed so deep inside
your heart that it just keeps growing and growing.
In time; the
amazement becomes fascination, the fascination turns into passion, the passion
transforms to belief. Yes, your heart counts for something too; it may very
well just kill the seed. I hadn’t realized how enchanted and influenced I have
become by two such, you know, soft-speaking, ordinary looking, persons and
neither of them is even Nelson Mandela.
There he was;
starring in his weekly show on the only channel of our black & white television,
explaining in simple words the wonders of evolution and diversity of Life on
Earth. It was a brutal task to hold on to his every word while enjoying the
subjects of his presentations; a raucous Gannet colony or a playful baby
Gorilla or a sauntering lonely Whale, the list isn’t exhaustive. Now that he
has explained, I can perfectly see why the Rock Hyrax is related to the
Elephant and why the Sharks managed 250 million years without much fuss.
But David
Attenborough also explained conservation; the delicate, intricate, and
sometimes invisible, web of life that bounds us all. Along your journey through
the Amazonia, he will plainly explain how the cutting down of a single
old-growth tree is as disastrous as burning of an ancient scroll. On the visit
to an enchanting Pacific island he will subtly put how the European rats and humans
onboard the marauding ships wrecked havoc in equal amount. While intriguing you
with the anatomy and habits of a Sandfish he will unravel the possibility of
Sahara resembling a place on the Mars.
Compared to Gerald Durrell, David Attenborough is a nerd. I can’t imagine Attenborough taking time to amuse you with stories about his aching ass after a daylong drive or the derelict room where he had had lodged. Yes Durrell was colourful, about the experiences he wrote and the way he wrote, but he wasn’t a showman. He was merely introducing you to a rich and unique tapestry of flora, fauna, people and culture. A tapestry you may even not be aware that it exists, a tapestry that may yet be lost, forever.
Remember the Ocelot
that was brought to him in a cage half of its height? Yeah, he did write about
it in a humorous vain; but he did also tell you about the prosecution it faced.
Along all the funny stories about a room full of Lemurs or the mischievous quips
regarding the women in Lambas, he kept pointing to the horrors of
slash-and-burn cultivation in Madagascar and the apocalyptic consequence
looming on its species, humans included.
In an era of
cringe-worthy naturalists, the
absence of David and Gerald is so hollowing. It’s like listening a remix of Mozart
or watching the comedy version of The Dictator. David and Gerald weren’t the
classical naturalists; there isn’t anything puritan about their approach. They
were THE naturalists and their approach is THE one to follow. Just as dealing
with the nature, when it comes to presenting it, you have to be delicate and
respectful about it.
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