The proportion of her eye in no way befits her body. She moves to and fro, restless on that make-shift plank of sturdy wood below, her stage. It's loud around her and she makes no sound. She is tame now, not among her herd, but cast in the role of Tributary of the Righteous. Years of training and the pokes of the sharp end of that wretched stick teach her to keep her calm, she can't regress now, the Man knows her. And she knows too well, the coins go to That One, the fruits to herself, and the tidbits to the Guy Behind. People come in welcomed throngs, especially on the weekends- free-time for the religious, with their ever-so-intoxicated ritual fervour. She dutifully sways her trunk around their heads, twenty, thirty, forty times a minute. They have been blessed now, by the female incarnation of the god of that temple. She isn't bound like a zoo animal because instead of chains, there are payals on her front feet. Motifs on her forehead, around her ears and stretching to her back. She is pretty and clean, not too big a size for the crowd. She is no beast, but a living temple deity. She doesn't scare, for she is sacred. Her small eyes watch the crowd, discern which one comes next, who carries what in their hands, who searches for the blessing. Mid-way, she sneezes once, emitting a splash of slime and the crowd jumps back. In disgust now? They move closer, daring each other to touch her first. They are safe from her, she can't do much under their watchful eyes, prying eyes, intrigued eyes, fascinated, condescending. Her own never settle, but keep roving, like she might be blind. Once blessed, the crowd around her moves on, to the sellers of many things devotional, commercial and artificial. She stands there the whole day, and weeks and months, for everyone loves her. The kids run about, trying to evade her trunk but then are forced by parents to hold still until she is done. She stands, Lakshmi, on the sturdy wooden plank, name card in place, garland on neck, payals on feet, stump-tusked, trunk swaying, feet roving, eyes...
She stands there the whole day. And everyone loves her.
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