SHWETA'S LENSE STORY BU WILLIAMSJI MAVELI

SHWETA’S LENSE: A STORY OF LOVE AND SURVIVAL IN THE WILD SANCTUARY
The humid air hung thick and heavy, a tapestry woven with the scent of damp earth and blooming jasmine. Shweta Maurya, her Canon EOS R5 a natural extension of her hand, moved with a practiced silence through the dense foliage of the Cubban Park. Sunlight, fractured by the canopy, painted dappled patterns on the forest floor. Her heart beat in rhythm with the rustling leaves, a symphony of anticipation.
First, she encountered a kaleidoscope of butterflies, their wings a vibrant splash of color against the emerald green. Then, a flock of Malabar Whistling Thrushes, their melodious calls echoing through the stillness, provided her with perfect subjects. Shweta's fingers danced across the shutter, capturing the fleeting beauty of the wild.
Deeper she ventured, drawn by the promise of larger game. The air grew heavier, the silence punctuated by the low rumble of distant thunder. Or was it? Shweta paused, her senses heightened. The ground vibrated faintly beneath her feet. Elephants.
She moved cautiously, her breath held captive in her chest. A herd of magnificent Asian elephants emerged from the thickets, their massive forms silhouetted against the golden light. A matriarch, her tusks gleaming, led her family towards a watering hole. Shweta, her heart pounding with a mix of awe and excitement, began to photograph them. The raw power, the gentle grace, the familial bonds – it was everything she dreamed of capturing.
Suddenly, a rogue bull elephant, separated from the herd, emerged from the dense undergrowth. Startled by Shweta’s presence, it trumpeted a warning, its ears flared, and began to charge. Shweta, despite her initial shock, reacted instinctively. She was a runner, a seasoned athlete, and she bolted, her boots pounding against the forest floor.
The elephant’s thunderous footsteps echoed behind her, the ground trembling with each stride. Branches whipped her face, thorns tore at her clothes, but she didn't stop. She pushed herself to her limits, her lungs burning, her muscles screaming in protest. But the elephant was relentless.
Desperate, she spotted a dark opening in a rocky outcrop – a cave. She plunged into the darkness, the elephant’s enraged trumpeting echoing behind her. She stumbled through the cave’s depths, the air thick with the smell of damp earth and bat guano. It was a large cave, a labyrinth of passages. She was trapped, but safe, at least for the moment.
The elephant’s frustrated roars faded into the distance. Shweta, her body trembling, leaned against the cold, damp wall. She was lost, her camera, her precious tool, likely lost in the chase. She checked her phone, the battery indicator flashing a desperate red. A sliver of hope remained.
With trembling fingers, she dialed Neeraj’s number. “Neeraj… I’m lost… Bandipur… elephant… cave…” Her voice was weak, the connection crackled, but she managed to convey the urgency of her situation.
Neeraj, his heart seizing with fear, immediately contacted the forest authorities and the police. He then reached out to his contacts in the armed forces, requesting helicopter support. The search began.
Hours stretched into an agonizing eternity. Shweta, her phone battery dead, huddled in the darkness, her mind filled with images of her family, of Neeraj’s warm smile. The cave was cold, damp, and the fear was a constant companion.
The sound of a helicopter’s rotors broke the silence. A beam of light pierced the darkness of the cave entrance. Shweta, her voice hoarse, called out, “Here! I’m here!”
She emerged, blinking in the bright light, her body weak but her spirit unbroken. Neeraj was there, his face etched with worry, but his eyes filled with relief. They embraced, a silent promise of enduring love.
Two months later, a forest guard, during a routine patrol, stumbled upon a battered camera near the elephant trail. It was Shweta’s. He recognized the name engraved on the strap and handed it over to the police. When Neeraj received the camera, he found a memory card inside. After downloading the photos, he found a breathtaking picture of the elephant herd, the matriarch’s eyes filled with a gentle wisdom. The last picture was a blurry image of the charging bull, a testament to Shweta’s courage.
The camera, once a symbol of loss, became a symbol of survival, a reminder of Shweta’s adventurous spirit and the enduring power of love. The incident had deepened their bond, a shared experience that wove their lives together even more tightly. Shweta, though scarred, had found a deeper appreciation for the wild, a respect for its power, and a renewed passion for capturing its beauty. And Neeraj, he learned that love was not about holding back, but about supporting the one you love, even in the face of danger.- STORY BY WILLIAMSJI MAVELI