Chiriakhana [The Zoo]

It was almost a family ritual. Every winter my brother, my maternal uncle and I used to visit the Calcutta Zoological Gardens. My uncle, long ago moved to happy hunting grounds, was a true outdoorsman and made a point of visiting the early dawn zoo instead of the midday drives most people enjoy. This he did to avoid the swirling throngs of the mob that made seeing the animals in their natural form quite impossible.

My uncle had correctly surmised that without the crowd, the animals tended to be in the viewing area longer than later during the day. The visit at dawn had an added attraction for us because around eight o’clock the keepers used to feed the carnivores. Then I remember that at dawn, the three of us would pile into a streetcar and head towards the zoo. As a young outdoorsman who looks like his uncle, these visits were incredibly exciting for me and an annual winter treat I wouldn’t give up for the world.

What really bothered us was witnessing over and over again the bestial attitude of men. Let me explain. At that early hour, the carnivores invariably paced incessantly around the outer perimeter of their cage viewing area. That meant they were much closer to the public than usual. Instead of admiring the dexterity and grace of these magnificent animals, the first visitors thought of nothing better than to throw stones at them. This outrageous behavior they would sneakily perpetrate only when the authorities were not looking their way, which was more often than not the case.

One even had the devilish idea of ​​reaching out a bamboo stick to touch one of the iron bars at the end, and then running parallel to the face of the cage, but in the opposite direction. This actually shook the cage with an annoying snap as the spread bamboo hit each iron bar in quick succession. Naturally, the poor inmate would roar in annoyance and charge, only to be stopped by the prison wall. His faces would be contorted in a snarl that only heightened hatred can induce.

I have noticed that some have practiced tormenting caged or restrained animals to perfection. It seems they have elevated this torture to an art form in their perverted minds. The cruelty of mindless torment that I always found abhorrent. It all came down to the torture of one life being the entertainment of another. What could be more funky than this? What could be more wicked and meaningless? I remember seeing him in a self-consuming anger with a yearning to get even.

It is the absurdity of life that a puny, ragged biped should have the audacity to torment a mighty tiger and get away with it; all because of the iron bars separated by centimeters that prevent the king of the Indian jungle from facing his executioner. Animals kill to eat, but only humans do it for fun and pleasure. The poor beasts that are used to roaming vast areas are forced into cramped cages and then subjected to constant abuse. In zoos and circuses, their defense against any oppression is reduced to zero. The situation is absurdly unfair and cruel even by bestial standards.

In my mind, I would try to visualize the outcome of a striped carnivore lucky enough to break out of its cage and face its assailant. He would have given an arm and a leg to see the fear leap into the eyes of the evil visitor when he first sees the cageless animal stalking him. Nothing would please me more than to see his racing heartbeat and his suddenly weak knees unable to support his weight, his dirty clothes.

The more powerful the animal, the higher it is on the torture list; the least of many flies under the radar. Any resting bear, tiger or lion is considered a wasted opportunity for fun. You will be instantly pushed or yelled at to get a reaction. The louder the irritated growl, the bigger the smile on the torturer’s face. This tormented life stretches from sunrise to sunset every day the zoo is open to the public. I think hell would have been a better place for these poor beasts. Do these animals pray every morning for the afternoon to arrive soon? I can only wonder.

With the afternoon, the winter shadows lengthen. Humans make mistakes in fading dim lights. It is quite conceivable that the caretaker unknowingly turned the cage latch into the wrong position. He returns home unaware of his fatal mistake. The naked beast is finally out! He now has years to deal with those hated humans. Where it lurks no one knows. He may be crouching in the clump of grass just a few feet away, or maybe behind that tree trunk, no one knows. Is the escaped animal in the park or outside of it? Nobody knows it for sure. The truth, however, is that the animal has not forgotten its pain. He’s out for revenge and he must get what’s coming to him. The king is outside lurking silently. He is patiently ready to strike. The tables are turned.

All park torturers beware!