She extended her hand in greeting and said, “It is a great pleasure to meet you. If you are not in a hurry, there is no problem staying here for another four days. You can see all the beauties of this town, or you can simply stay here and study if you wish.” My friend took leave of her and departed. She asked me to sit down and inquired about my village, my name, and everything else. After a couple of minutes of this and that, as soon as lunch was over, she said, “Some friends and I are planning to take a few newcomers from your country to the zoological gardens. Would you like to come too?”

“Of course, I would be delighted to come,” I replied.

“In that case, let’s meet at two o’clock,” she said. I stood up, wished her good morning, and returned to my room.

After finishing my lunch, I sat waiting, ready by half past one, wondering when they would call me. What exactly is a zoological garden? Why have they arranged such a thing? What is there to see? Back home, we see all kinds of animals everywhere, brushing against our eyes and feet! Would there be tigers and lions here too, just like in a circus? As I pondered these questions, with just two minutes left for two o’clock, someone came and told me to get ready to go out. I immediately got up and followed him outside.

In the main hall, about ten or fifteen of our countrymen, all a little older than me, were standing there. As I looked at their faces, not a single one looked like a Telugu man. While I was still scrutinizing their faces, the lady manager who had spoken to me in the morning entered, dressed up, wearing a hat adorned with some kind of feathers on her head, and a long coat that reached down to her feet, holding a stick in her hand. After seeing that coat, I thought perhaps everyone has to wear such attire here. When I looked at the others, I saw that they too were all putting on similar coats. Everyone’s...

Barrister Parvateesam

All eyes were on me. Realizing this, I quickly excused myself, saying, “I’ll be back in a moment,” and dashed into my room. I hurriedly put on that coat as well and returned. Immediately, we set off.

By the time we reached the street, there was a car ready, large enough to seat ten or fifteen people. As soon as we all got in, it started off and, weaving smoothly through the town, took us to the exhibition hall. We all got down there and went inside. Even to enter, we had to buy tickets. The manager lady herself bought tickets for all of us.

As we went inside, I thought it would be like our big cattle sheds back home. But instead, it looked as if it stretched over several hundred acres. In one part, there were buildings with iron bars, like houses, and inside them were some animals. By animals, I expected only cows, buffaloes, oxen, bulls, goats, sheep, donkeys, horses, and, if they were feeling extravagant, maybe an elephant or two, or perhaps a few sparrows—nothing more than that.

These don’t exist at all—there are no such things here. There are foxes, wolves, a few kinds of horses, and some types of braying donkeys that have come from Africa, it seems. Those must be the zebras. They look just like horses, but with big stripes all over their bodies—stripes like those of a tiger. Not that I’ve ever seen a real tiger, but I’ve heard elders say that tigers have stripes. Besides, in our village, during the Peerla festival, people dress up as tigers, and I’ve seen them paint stripes on themselves. Here, these zebra-like creatures with stripes looked quite beautiful. After returning home, if necessary, I thought I might travel via Africa, buy a pair of zebras, harness them to a cart like two horses, and take them to Madras or somewhere. People would flock to see them and be delighted! Anyway, I decided that I must take them along.

There were local pigs and wild boars too. Though they looked like ordinary pigs, they had two large tusks sticking out of their mouths. But even more peculiar, beautiful, and fearsome was something else—a true crown jewel of the pig family, and the smallest among them—the porcupine! What a strange creature! Its entire body, except for the face, was covered with black, Telugu-colored (dark), six or seven-inch-long quills, so densely packed that you couldn’t even poke it with a needle. I wondered whether these quills were there from birth, or if they grew later, or perhaps if the exhibition folks had dressed it up in this spiky armor just to amuse the visitors! As I was pondering this, an attendant from the exhibition, who was with us, poked one of the porcupines through the bars with a stick. The porcupine, as if to say, “You wretch! Just wait, I’ll teach you a lesson,” made a peculiar sound and leapt at him. The strange thing was, at that very instant, just as our hair stands on end when we’re startled, all the quills on the porcupine’s body stood up straight. In that state, if it fell upon anyone, what would happen then? As I was thinking this, the attendant began to lecture us about the creature. He said that this was God’s great gift to the porcupine, to protect itself and escape from enemies. I, without thinking, asked about the other animals. He turned to me, sharply and—

Afterwards, looking on with a touch of sympathy, he said, “God grants every creature the necessary means to protect itself, suited to its nature.” A gentle smile appeared on our manager madam’s face. We moved ahead.

Next, we went to the place where the monkeys and baboons were kept. There, hundreds of monkeys—big and small,