HYDERABAD: I love museums for how they let you peek into the past — like a time machine but with air-conditioning. The Salar Jung Museum is proof of this. Right at the entrance, they remind you how things were in the past by not accepting online payments. Nothing says "history" like struggling for exact change in 2024.
Inside, the museum is a one-man show of Mir Yousuf Ali Khan, aka Salar Jung III. Fun fact — he wasn’t even the main guy. He was just the Nizam’s finance minister — basically, Nirmala Sitharaman with a shopping problem.
During that reign — without doing any research because I can confidently say this — the oppressors probably had a good time, and the oppressed…the opposite, not so much. But isn’t that the story of every kingdom ever? Royalty gets palaces, and peasants get potatoes — if they’re lucky.
The argument of whether Nizam’s rule was a boon or bane depends entirely on which video’s comment section you’re scrolling through.
But since mankind is busy arguing over their historical hot takes, I’ve decided to fight the case for elephants. Yes, the gentle giants who served as royal Ubers, public relations mascots, and occasional battle tanks. This is their story — or at least the story of one elephant. Let’s call him Jumbo.
Jumbo wakes up one day, stretches his trunk, and is hit with a brutal reminder — my tusks are gone. He can’t forget; he’s an elephant. He tries drowning his sorrows with gallons of water but nothing helps. Sobriety and tusk-loss are a terrible combo.
Determined to understand why humans robbed him of his pride and joy, Jumbo sets out to investigate. His first stop? A park. And what does he see? Benches. Made. Of. Ivory. “Seriously?” he trumpets. “You sit on me when I’m alive and now you sit on me when I’m a bench?!” Even worse, there are iron and wooden benches in the park. So, you had other options?!
Shaking his massive head, Jumbo enters a museum hall. The first thing he spots is a tiny ivory statue of an elephant. He gasps. “Ravi?!” Yes, it’s his cousin Ravi, who was always showing off his shiny tusks. Well, Ravi, now you’re a glorified paperweight.
Things get weirder. Jumbo finds ivory figurines of Buddha and Gandhi. “Non-violence on ivory? Really?” he grumbles. “The sculptor clearly didn’t read their teachings.” He moves into another room and sees a miniature Taj Mahal carved out of ivory. Jumbo pauses, stunned. “Thank God Shah Jahan didn’t pick ivory for the real thing. Otherwise, there’d be no elephants left — just depressed marble dealers.”
The final blow comes when Jumbo stumbles upon an ivory chess set. His gaze locks on the knight. It’s an elephant — with tusks. “Oh, come on!” he fumes. “This guy gets tusks, and I get a sofa strapped to my back?!” It’s like the universe is trolling him.
Jumbo thinks about running away but quickly remembers, “The British are out there... and they’re worse. They’d probably take my tail and call it a collectible.” So, he stays put — tusk-less, traumatised, and surrounded by furniture made out of his relatives.
Next time you visit the museum, spare a thought for Jumbo and his kind. History wasn’t just written by the victors; it was also carved out of their tusks — quite literally.
Sandesh Johnny
@johnnykasandesh
(This comedian is here to tell funny stories about Hyderabad)
(The writer's views are his own)