By Rajitha Ratwatte
I am told the Dalada Perehera is on in my hometown. I have some incredible memories and despite all the cruelty to elephants’ rhetoric that is dished out, mostly by people who are either paid to do so, or do not understand the relationship that can be built up by humans and elephants, I have included an extract from my book. The names of the elephants are those that I grew up with. These are memories from the early 1970’s and I hope you can leave your inhibitions behind and simply enjoy them for what they are; happy memories from another era.
It was not such a pious era (be the piety real or otherwise) and it was before the long arm of the law ensured that all Liquor shops were closed for the entire duration of the Perehera.
First, we used to go to the respective temples that we were working for and in the courtyards of these temples begin dressing the elephants. The elephant’s dress consisted of a large drape to cover most of the back and legs, a front piece with eye holes covering the head and trunk and two coverings for the ears. The cloth of these dresses where ancient tapestries and they were very carefully stored over the years and taken out only for the festival. The first time we put Tikiri into a dress she proceeded to rip off the head covering and the ear coverings and tore them to shreds before we could stop her. This resulted in a terrible black mark and we were given another dress only after we used extreme pressure and lots of influence!
The lesser elephants wore only the dress and it got more and more elaborate as the animal’s role in the pageant gained more significance. For instance, the elephant who led the procession and carried the king’s official who was in charge of deciding on the route (the route got longer each day until on the last night it covered almost all the streets of Kandy) was always a male and preferably a tusker. His robes were of silk with gold brocade and he often had a car battery (now replaced by LED lights and a much lighter power source due to a suggestion from yours truly – duly implemented by the late Mohan Panabokke the Basnayake Nilame of the Maha Vishnu temple) tied on his shoulders with a series of light bulbs (somewhat like Christmas tree lights) fitted to the front piece. Since all the street lights where always switched off and the procession was lit by flares carried by bearers it took on a truly magnificent air. As for the tusker who carried the actual tooth relic, two other tuskers always flanked him, and his robes defied description!
The temple courtyards were often over 500 years old and had large stone paving and were mysterious and mystical places. Once the dressing was completed, we had a little time before the first of the cannons from the main temple would boom out, informing us that we had to go out into the road and take up our pre-determined positions. This was not time wasted. Another favourite pastime of these “moral scum” that were elephant keepers (a popular opinion) was to keep the local taverns well patronised. This is where I (the owner’s son) and not very popular at most times because I may report any misdemeanour that went on, came into my own. One by one they would come up to me and say, “could you keep an eye on the elephant ” (Keepers rarely used the name given by the owner, instead they referred to the elephant by the owners’ last name) and off they would go to imbibe. Often, I would be left in the darkened temple courtyard, lit only by the flickering light of the “chulu” lanterns with eight huge elephants. The elephants were always excited and restless and the nervous energy emanating from them combined with the low light and the general mysticism associated with the temple courtyard made for a truly unique cocktail of emotions, the main one being just how insignificant we humans are in the greater scheme of things!
And so, the procession would start. Most keepers had to be dragged around the route by the chains of their elephants, they were so drunk. There is more than one story of elephants having to pick their mahouts up in their trunks and carry them home and deposit them outside their houses before quietly going into their stables and waiting for daybreak. Most elephants were so well trained that once they were guided into their position in the procession they would hold their station perfectly, there were many stops and starts, and find their way back to the respective temple courtyards at the end.
But not so Tikiri! Tikiri wanted to dance with the dancers who led the way, she wanted to overtake all the slowpokes and see what was happening up ahead, sometimes she wanted to go back, presumably to pay homage to the tooth relic that was carried at the rear end of the procession. Keeping Tikiri in station took 4four strong men. We had to hold her from either side and one hold her tail while the fourth had to walk in front to keep from overtaking the others. Tikiri was a relative baby under training and we were only allowed in because my uncle was the chief trustee of the temple and his nephew promised better results after each disaster. This actually got beyond a joke and we had to hire the services of Banda ……… more of that later.
Going to the procession was fairly uneventful. The streets of Kandy were thronged with people and the Police were out in force. They would direct traffic and take the occasional kick at a passing hooligan (their opinion) who couldn’t keep onto the jammed and overflowing pavements. Elephant keepers and the guardians of the law were never the best of friends, it was a fairly common sight to see a magnificently uniformed custodian of the law hastily abandoning his position in the middle of the road where he was imperiously directing traffic until a few moments previously as there was this elephant bearing straight down on him. This elephant that didn’t respond to his command to keep left and who’s keeper was playing a flute and flirting with a pretty girl he was giving a lift to instead of keeping his eyes on the road! The keeper always knew where his elephant was going. What the lawman didn’t know was that the keeper was directing his charge straight at the uniform with those silent commands that you can give with your foot while riding…………Profuse apologies, intermingled with female laughter would always follow but woe betide the unfortunate elephant keeper who got caught under the influence without his elephant by his side.
Coming back after a long night, was another matter entirely. We would all be very tired and except for a very very small percentage of us the rest would be paralytic, therefore it was mainly up to the elephants to find their way home. The people who had been to watch would also be very merry and full of “Dutch courage”. They who had shown a healthy respect for the size and strength of an elephant would now be overwhelmed by affection for these magnificent creatures. Farmer KiriBanda would stumble up to an Elephant with words of endearment and attempt to bestow a drunken kiss. Most elephants knew about this and would gently step out of the way and keep going but not Tikiri. Tikiri’s eyes would light up, here was sport. She would let him lean on her and then sidestep smartly resulting in a dull thud as the gentleman hit the tar macadam of the road. If she was in a bad mood Tikiri would take a swing at the revellers with her trunk and many a man has reached instant sobriety while sailing in a graceful arc across the crowded streets of Kandy in most cases in a state of semi nudity, because their sarongs would always detach themselves. Fortunately, we never had anything worse than a minor bruising, the gods must really have been watching over us.
Sometimes we had the odd visiting elephant who had become over excited to escort home. Some of the Elephants who came for the procession would come from very remote villages. They had never seen so many humans or been exposed to all this noise and excitement. They would panic and get hysterical and become uncontrollable. If it got really bad a vet would be called with a tranquilizer but those were the early days of tranquilizer and Mahouts were wary of them. One of the popular theories were that the tranquiliser robbed the elephants of their strength and a once tranquilised elephant would be useless for work thereafter. Anyway, the first step when an elephant got over excited was to secure it using chains to a nearby tree or lamppost. Once the procession was over and the streets were clear we would tie the troubled one onto two others (one on either side) and lead him down to our bathing spot near the river where he would be stabled for a few days with plenty of food and water and allowed to calm down. The big bulls would be used for escort duties and Rani who could hold her own with most bulls would be used on occasion. This was one task that I was never allowed to participate in because as the keepers said, ” this is not one of ours and it doesn’t know you”. I really think it was on the instructions of my father who allowed me a free rein but drew the line on some things.
We used to get paid for our services during the ten nights of the festival. Not exorbitant sums of money as in the present day but mostly with a sack of “paddy” from the temple fields. The final day procession however was done for us to obtain merit from the gods and no one accepted any payment for this. It was hard work because we had just finished the final night (the longest route which took until the early hours of the morning) and it would be hot and humid as the weather is at that time of the year and we would all be weary. We did it without a second thought though and when I think of it we must have been as strong as the elephants themselves.
The Queens hotel in Kandy was the place where all the VIP’s watched the pageant. One of my uncles used always reserve a suite and invite all his friends and business associates and have an endless party for 10 nights and a day. All of us were under instructions to put on our best show when we were passing the Queens and we did. I always had one eye cocked at the overhanging balconies where all the pretty girls used lean out of taking in the spectacle. I was considered a bit of a wild child, for I was associating with all those elephant keepers, this I must confess had a certain appeal to some extremely pretty cousins of mine and their friends. One year when I was passing the Queens I was walking behind Tikiri (on tail duty) but we had Banda then and we didn’t need to hang on to her tail. Therefore, I was checking out the balconies and sure enough there were the girls I was looking for and they were waving vigorously and calling out. I gave a nonchalant wave and prepared to look busy with this important task that I had in hand, but they continued waving and calling out and the calls were getting frantic. Fortunately, I diverted my gaze and looked directly above my head where Tikiri’s tail had been lifted and she was about the deposit her last meal on my head. This of course was what the girls were trying to convey to me and I thought I had a fan club!!!!!
George Floyd, African-Americans, and Sri Lanka’s Estate Tamils (Part I)
By Uditha Devapriya
Over two weeks, the George Floyd protests spread practically everywhere. From Kansas to Kenya, from Baltimore to Berlin, they turned into symbols of dissent against not just the racism, but also the xenophobia, of White America.
One of the most haunting images to emerge from the demonstrations was that of a young Sri Lankan girl, draped in the flag of her country, posing defiantly on the streets of an American city. The image and the girl in it attracted both support and opposition, the latter coming from militant Sinhala nationalists who felt she dishonoured a national symbol by using it as a sign of civil disobedience involving a domestic issue of another country.
The response of the nationalists to the George Floyd uprisings was, if at all, amusing. One section of this crowd took to social media to condemn White America for exhibiting its racist, chauvinist face yet again. Another section – no less big or significant – took the opposite stance, censuring those protesting against the murder of a black civilian because, to them at least, Floyd’s murder did not warrant the rampaging and the pillaging of public property. To the latter group, these protests seemed disproportionate to what they regarded as an instance of police authority enforcing the law over a minority community.
The few within the nationalist crowd who did support the raging protests were, even more amusingly, taken to task on social media by another group, this one ideologically opposed to nationalism. The latter crowd seemed to think, not without justification, that the nationalists sharing posts and posting comments against White America were myopic: they seemed to sympathise with George Floyd, but not with the Tamils and Muslims of Sri Lanka, whom the anti-nationalists alleged are as discriminated against over here as George Floyd’s community is over there. Thus both nationalists opposed to the protests AND anti-nationalists critiquing the selectivity of those supporting the protests persisted in comparing African-Americans to the Tamils and Muslims of Sri Lanka.
In that sense the protests taught us two important lessons. Though they don’t form the subject of this essay, they are relevant to it, and hence need to be examined.
Firstly, the inability of many Sinhala nationalists to take their struggle against neo-colonialism and Western hegemony forward. Resistance to colonialism has historically formed the bedrock of the Sinhala nationalist lobby, yet their denunciations of this uprising betrayed a failure to think beyond geographic borders. This came out quite despairingly in their reaction to the only local political party that saw it fit to organise a protest in front of the US Embassy. The government’s crackdown on the demonstration didn’t seem to ruffle their feathers, nor did the point that the demonstrators were making.
Secondly, and just as importantly, the inability of local left-liberal outfits to come up with a proper front, in Sri Lanka, against the George Floyd murder. The Frontline Socialist Party (FSP) organised the protest against the US Embassy, while the Socialist Equality Party (SEP) organised a discussion on it online. But neither of these belongs to what is traditionally labelled as “civil society.” The point can be made that the issue at the centre of these protests was not Sri Lankan and that is why civil society ignored it, but that excuse pales away when one considers that the moment sections of the nationalist crowd let out their anger at the US’s handling of the protests, certain social media civil society activists focused their energies more on pointing out the hypocrisy of the nationalists.
Despite the hostile exchanges between the two factions, one particular point brought them together: their comparison of African-Americans to Sri Lankan Tamils and Muslims. They underscored this comparison from two different vantage points.
Thus the nationalists who critiqued the protests seemed to believe that, like extremist Tamils and Muslims, African-Americans and other minorities in the US were unfairly questioning the legitimacy of rule by an ethnic majority. Those opposed to the nationalists, on the other hand, inadvertently, by their critique of the nationalists’ sidelining of Tamils and Muslims, equated the latter two with the community which Floyd hailed from. The question to be asked here is whether such an analogy is, if not plausible, then at least tenable.
In 2011, a year before Barack Obama won election for a second term, Vinod Moonesinghe wrote a cogent reply to someone who in an article had wished for a Tamil or Muslim to be elected as this country’s leader. Vinod made two points there: considering Obama’s win as a win for all African-Americans failed to distinguish between his class origins and those of most African-Americans; and equating African-Americans with Tamils and Muslims was anachronistic, given the economically privileged status of the latter two groups.
Taking class and caste into consideration, then, Ranasinghe Premadasa’s election win seemed closer to such a comparison than the potential coming to power of a member of a “minority.” Taking class, caste, AND ethnicity into consideration, the analogy would have to extend, not to Jaffna and Colombo Tamils, Moors, and Malays, or Borahs and Sindhis, but instead to a community that, like the blacks of the US, was imported as dirt cheap labour, cut off from the rest of the population, and supervised under a setup no different to the plantations of the southern US. In other words, the migrant Indian Tamils of Sri Lanka.
Before making an analogy between these two groups, though, it would do well to reflect, very briefly, on the historical trajectory of slavery in the West.
Following the Arab invasions of the seventh and eighth centuries, Europe turned inward. The eminent historian Fernand Braudel has written of a “second serfdom” that sprang up in parts of the continent where feudalism failed to give way to capitalism. The result was the growth of a kind of slavery, white slavery, across the East, in what is now Russia; it’s a testament to the legacy of the trade which emerged there that the word “slave” derived from the ethnicity of those marshalled into it from that region, Slav.
With the influence of the Arabs and the Ottoman Turks after them waning after the fall of Granada in 1492 (the same year Columbus “discovered” the New World), a liberated Europe, discovering hitherto unchartered colonies in the Americas on one side and Australia on the other, gradually instituted a system of indentured white bondage.
It has been estimated that around 67% of all white immigrants to the new colonies arrived there as servants. These immigrants were bound to a contract that compelled them to work for an overseer, without pay, over a specified period of time. Most often such contracts were drawn for those who had a prior obligation to these overseers which they couldn’t meet, such as a debt. Since the government usually didn’t interfere with these contracts, extortion and kidnappings became common, as they would among Africans later on. The situation was such that even in as late as 1910 the US government was trying to put an end to white slavery: the White Slave Traffic Act (or the Mann Act) that year made it a felony to transport women across state borders for the purposes of “prostitution or debauchery.”
Debt bondage, however, applied in the early period only to white immigrants to the white colonies, and the Irish; the difference between their situation and that of African slaves was that the latter were never recruited to pay off an obligation; most of them ended up as lifelong labourers, unpaid and treated as chattel or property. As Liam Stack once observed, “[u]nlike slaves, servants were considered legally human.”
To put this in its proper perspective, the position of those shipped to the sugar plantations of the West Indies and the cotton mills of the southern United States fitted that of neither indentured servants nor wage labourers. The process of recruiting and transporting these Africans, in the long term, thus became, as Gordon K. Lewis put it, “quasi-militarised”, while once quartered in the plantations their owners did everything to isolate the unfortunate immigrants, prisoners really, from the world outside.
Revisionist historians, white and black, have tried to understate the full weight of black slavery, either by pointing at the involvement of African intermediaries in it or by showing that European Christians became as entangled in it as Africans.
Thus Robert Davis (Christian Slaves, Muslim Masters) argues that while the Atlantic slave trade was 12 times as large, more Christians than Africans were captured between 1500 and 1650, while Henry Louis Gates, Jr. (“How Many Slaves Landed in the US?”) contends that of the 10.7 million Africans who survived the passage to the West, “only about 388,000” were shipped to the United States. What these “findings” fail to show is that black slavery was not geographically limited to the US, or for that matter to Western Europe, and that from 1530 to 1780, when more than five million Africans found themselves dispatched to Portugal and Brazil, only about a million Christians were forced into servitude in North Africa, along the Barbary Coast and into the Ottoman Empire.
The Abolitionist movement, no doubt representative of a progressive, enlightened wing in the Evangelical Revival, agitated for African slavery’s end. It did this as much for moral reasons as for pragmatic ones; the rise in Britain of an industrial Whig bourgeoisie over a landed Tory gentry and the expansion of British interests in Asia and Africa had by then necessitated the rise of plantation colonialism. It is hence not a coincidence that African slaves in the British West Indies were emancipated by official proclamation in the same year (1833) that the most ambitious set of administrative proposals were tabled in Sri Lanka (Colebrooke-Cameron) to lay the foundation for the new colonial plantation economy.
Against this backdrop, black slavery soon receded to countries where a white settler class predominated, including Rhodesia, Canada, Australia and New Zealand. S. B. D. de Silva in The Political Economy of Underdevelopment refers to these as “settler states”, a distinction I will return to later. In any case, what we have here is the first of many differences between the plight of African-Americans and that of Sri Lankan Tamils and Muslims.
Plantation colonialism demolished and also made use of existing traditional political, cultural, social, and economic patterns in much of Asia and Africa. The most immediate result of that, of course, was the impoverishment of the peasantry; in Sri Lanka, as we know, the peasantry most directly affected by these policies remained the Kandyan Sinhalese.
Marx was largely correct in his comparison of British domination of India to that of Ireland. He was more prescient in the implication that the British brought with them to the colonies their experience in subjugating the Irish peasantry. Two policies make it clear to what extent they were following the Irish example in India and Sri Lanka: the expropriation of peasant land, and the pursuit of divide and rule. I shall turn to these next week, and with them, the growth and evolution of Indian migrant labour.
To be continued next week…
The writer can be reached at email@example.com
Imagine yourself being fried and eaten bit by bit
I cannot make up my mind: Is the meat eater, who eats dead animals killed in slaughterhouses, worse than the meat eater who kills the animal himself while eating it?
There is a certain type of person who goes to a restaurant, chooses a live fish, octopus shrimp or snake in a transparent aquarium tank, has it taken out of the glass and killed and cooked in front of him. His only reason for this to himself is that the meat should be “fresh”. In actual fact some people truly enjoy suffering. That, for them, is as important as the taste.
What can I say about people who enjoy eating these foods?
The Chinese Ying Yang fish is fried but kept alive. You can see videos of diners prodding at the face and eyes with their chopsticks while the fish struggles to breathe with its mouth and gills. It is prepared extremely quickly, with care not to damage the internal organs, so that the fish can remain alive for 30 minutes. Fish are the most sensitive of all to pain. Imagine yourself being fried and then eaten bit by bit.
In Japan, Sashimi, which means pierced body, is a common Japanese dish consisting of fresh raw fish or meat sliced into thin pieces and eaten with soy sauce. One kind of Sashimi is Ikizukuri (“prepared alive”) made with live sea beings. Fish and octopus are common ingredients that move on the plate as you eat them. Sashimi could also include live frogs. The frog is stripped of its skin while alive and stabbed delicately with a fork and eaten. One restaurant in Shinjuku serves the frog’s fresh, still beating heart, as starters. Lobsters are not always boiled alive and dead by the time they reach your plate. Restaurants in New York serve lobsters while they’re still alive. They are upturned and diners pick out “belly sashimi” from the lobster which flails in pain for all the time you take to slash and take out his stomach meat. Another common dish in Japan is swallowing live baby eels dipped in vinegar and saké.
In South Korea, Sannakji is a dish that involves hacking the tentacles off a baby octopus and serving them still wriggling. Sannakji connoisseurs enjoy the sensation of the still-active suction cups on the octopus’ arms as they stick to the mouth.
The Chinese cannot be bested for their addiction to cruelty. Live shrimp are put into a liquor called Baijiu and diners bite their heads off while drinking it. This can give you lung fluke disease, but what is more important than proving your manhood by killing a shrimp. In China there is a dish called “Three squeaks” in which live baby mice are dunked in sauce and eaten alive. The reason why it is called “Three Squeaks” is due to the sounds the mice make when grabbed with chopsticks, dunked in the sauce and bitten through.
Raw live baby monkey brain is a very expensive dish eaten by rich people in China and Hong Kong. The chef puts a live monkey beneath a table with its head poking up through a hole. The chef slices the top of the head off and the customers eat its brains while it screams. Fresh baby donkey, or Huo Jiao Lu. The animal has its legs tied and its body held down, while the chef cuts its body and serves the meat immediately to customers.
Live baby duck embryos, just a day from being hatched, are a famous Chinese specialty which is now common in the Philippines as well. In the latter country it is called Balut. The Filipinos eat the egg boiled. The Chinese eat it raw to get the full taste of the egg white, the little yolk left, and the live squirming chick. No wonder the Chinese make such dangerous enemies. They love violence and gore.
Odori ebi or “dancing shrimp” is a Japanese sashimi in which the baby pink shrimp is still moving its legs and antennae while being eaten. The shrimp only dies when chewed. Odori Don is a live cuttlefish whose tentacles twitch as you pour the soy and chew it.
Consuming the beating heart and blood of live snakes is common in Vietnam. You choose the live snake at roadside stalls and they cut it and serve it within a minute. I have seen this in Hong Kong. In China people eat live baby snakes.
Sea urchins are the porcupines of the sea; globular animals with long spines to defend themselves. They live on the seabed. But their spines cannot protect them from human greed. They are caught and served live. Their testicles are a delicacy across the world, specially Europe. The live animal is cut on the plate with scissors and its salty gonads are taken out and eaten raw.
The most common animal to be eaten alive is the oyster which is served alive. Its spine is broken, and its insides are slurped up raw. This was originally a French dish but is now eaten all over.
A famous chain of restaurants in Copenhagen serves salads crawling with live ants supposedly to add a zesty taste. These move slowly because they have been kept in the fridge previously. Wichetty grubs are chewed live in parts of Australia. They are said to taste like nutty fried eggs.
Casu Marzu is a traditional Sardinian sheep milk cheese eaten in Italy. Its specialty is that it contains the live maggots of the cheese fly, which jump about in panic as you scrunch them. Casu Marzu has so much ammonia in it from its faeces that it scorches the tongue. Milk cheeses containing living insect larvae are produced in several Italian regions.
Television game shows that I have repeatedly complained about to the Ministry over the years is Fear Factor and Survivor where contestants eat live insects, spiders, cockroaches and worms. But by the time they take action, the series is already over. Then we start the cycle again with the next series. Man vs Wild is another show in which Bear Gryllis shows his manhood by eating live insects.
What is the word for people who demand food that is so full of pain? Monsters? Ugly terrifying evil beings that are probably a menace to human society as well.
(To join the animal
welfare movement contact firstname.lastname@example.org, www.
The elephant and alli mankada
By Ashley de Vos
In 1999, a proposal was made by the undersigned as President of the Wildlife and Nature Protection Society of Sri Lanka, to document from the existing information in the Department of Wildlife Conservation, held in the archives of Mr. Wilson, an erudite Officer, and draw a map showing the original Alli Mankada, as they existed prior to 1977. Many ‘Experts’ objected, that they had all changed. They had all changed, yes, but we were after the Ayurveda solution to the problem, instead of the ampicillin solution of the western educated experts.
As a quick fix an ampicillin solution in the form of an electric fence was promoted and installed at enormous cost. This we all know has failed. These elephants for centuries have travelled from A to B along the Alli Mankada. Today this highway or the Mankada they travelled along has been blocked, and a detour has been introduced. Let’s apply the very same scenario to us humans. We are merrily travelling along the highway with our family trying to get to B. Half way we are confronted with a road block, we are not told why, but forced to take a detour. We have now to travel along narrow roads, not properly sign posted, across unfamiliar territory, meet new people, some friendly, some not, they are agitated, because of the sudden increase in traffic encroaching into their privacy and disrupting their life styles as well. Some put up boards requesting that the traffic should move slowly and hope the detour would be closed down and the highway opened up as soon as possible.
The poor elephant faces the very same scenario. They have travelled the highway, the Alli Mankada for centuries. Suddenly without any warning, due to a politically influenced decision and without a bird brain of thought the elephant highway, the Alli Mankada is closed. The disruption could be a badly located chicken farm belonging to a friend of the politician, an ill designed housing scheme, or the indiscriminate distribution of land usually for political expediency. Remember the people have a vote, the elephants don’t. The elephant journey from A to B, now for no real researched reason has been diverted through new areas. Through villagers have never seen the movement of the elephant herds in their village before. Some of the coconut trees destroyed are close to 10 years of more. They had been safe till the indiscriminate blocking of the Alli Mankada that diverted the herds, via electric fences in a new direction.
It is certainly not the fault of the elephant, but they are forced to suffer, they are shot, they are electrocuted, fed the insane Hakka Pattas. Those who indulge in this method, should lose any good karma that they may have accrued in the past, and be relegated to spend the rest of their million lives in the darkest hell hole. One cannot induce arbitory changes to the Alli Mankada, the fact is that these highways are engraved in the genes, is why we still see elephants climbing Koslanda on their way up to the highest landscapes like Poonagala.
Any good research has to commence from the base not from a contorted half way, leaving elephants on both sides of the electric fence. The cause has to be understood first, to arrive at the real solution. If people have been wrongly settled, if industries have been wrongly placed, if national parks have been compromised, now is the time to change, to get back. To look for permanent solutions, even if it means alternate lands. This would then constitute a permanent solution. To open up the Alli Mankada. We will not need the electric fences or the Hakka Pattas anymore, much to the disappointment of the suppliers. The politicians responsible for creating the illegal encroachments should be taken to task. If the map of the original Alli Mankada could be produced and forwarded to all authorities at least the Officers will understand the possible repercussions of their folly. No one can fane ignorance and say, THEY DID NOT KNOW.
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