THE TIGER SWAMI

"I used to wrestle wild tigers with my bare hands.
No, not the doped up ones in circuses. The real deals.
Once I wrestled the raging Bengal tiger. He'd been starved
for days by those who kept him. My enemies. By the time
I faced him, he wanted my blood more than anything that
beast had ever wanted.  I was getting old, but my arms
were like anvils and I was ready.  Yet, there had been the
dream of the old lady who said I would be maimed and close
to death and that I would lie ill for six months. But after this
travail, I would emerge a holy man."

The American newspapers reported the story with typical
contempt and mockery.  It ran beside an ad for a Rolex
and over an ad for a vacation along the Rhine.  The second
ad displayed a sexy girl with alabaster skin.

By the time I'd faced the Bengal my spirit was polluted.
I wore the Rolex and drove a BMW convertible. I rode
a Ducati bike 160 miles an hour on the Autobon.

I had digressed enough until I read William Blake's
"The Tyger" and realized I could defeat the Bengal.

"The Tiger Swami almost lost his right arm.  His ear
dangled by his cheek.  Blood spurted everwhere. But
the mighty tiger lay exhausted and stunned on the
jungle floor.  The Swami lay in a hospital in Calcutta
for exactly six months," reported the New York Times,
in the Sunday Sports pages.


Rich Quatrone June 4 2012
43rd anniversary of my Rutgers College graduation