Springingtiger's Blog

By Request: The Story of the Springingtiger.

I have been asked from whence comes the name “Springingtiger”. I have a lifelong love of tigers, the most beautiful and awe inspiring creatures on our planet, but that’s not the origin of the name, at least not entirely.

One of my great political heroes, since my youth, is the Indian nationalist Subas Chandra Bose. Governments would have us believe that Gandhi persuaded the English to surrender control of India by peaceful protest, while ignoring the increasingly popular armed resistance. In reality an armed struggle for freedom was being fought by men and women, willing to lay down their lives, and many did. One of the leaders of this struggle was Subhas Chandra Bose the founder of the Indian National Army. When Netaji went to war on his banner was a springing tiger, but that is not the origin of the name, not entirely.

There is a wonderful old story of an orphaned tiger cub that was found and brought up by goats. The cub played with the kids, and ate with the goats, he was even suckled as a baby by the nanny goat. The tiger cub became a goat, true he never quite fitted in, he looked different, he was bigger, he never found it easy to eat short grass, but he was a goat. One day as the young goats played in the meadow, from the forest came a large tiger. In panic the goats ran, the tiger who thought he was a goat was also about to run when the tiger spoke to him.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“I’m running away said the young tiger.”
“But why?” asked the older tiger.
“You are a tiger,” replied the younger, “I am a goat, tigers eat goats and I don’t want to be eaten!”
“Who told you, you were a goat?” asked the older tiger?”
“My parents,” said the younger tiger, “my parents are goats, my brothers and sisters are goats, all my life I’ve been a goat.”
“Look at me,” commanded the older tiger, “now look at your reflection in the river.”
The young tiger looked at his reflection, he looked for several minutes, then he took a deep breath, threw back his head and roared. He roared until the ground shook and the trees cracked, he roared until all the beasts of the forest trembled, the birds took to the air, and the goats ran. The tiger roared!

I loved this story so much I named my house, “Springingtiger”, I named my business (closed now), “Springingtiger”. Years later when I received my diagnosis of Aspergers Syndrome it was as if scales had fallen from my writes and suddenly, after years of confusion my life made sense. I named my blog, “Springingtiger”.


3 Comments so far
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Did the tiger eat his foster parents and siblings then?

Comment by Mados

Had they not run, I’m sure I’d have been tempted.

Comment by springingtiger


Comment by Mados

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