And there was a time when I thought animals only lived in cages, and that too only in the Calcutta Zoo.

Our exposure to animals was limited to dogs and cats and to the herd of cows that the doodhwalla used to bring home and to the stories of jungle adventures that we were encouraged to read or loved to listen to as my father recounted how he had killed a python and stuff like that.

And then there were the movies – Hatari, Born Free et al. And it was almost as if I had discovered a new world, a new planet.

Those were the days of innocence. Days when I used to think (when friends whistled the tune as I walked past them) that Baby Elephant Walk was a musical complement. Only later did I realise that they were referring (not so kindly) to my size and gait.

But those were the days too when we saw monkeys (rarely) and were convinced that if the Hanumans were a reality, the Rams and the Ravanas surely were too. And when some mythological films showed the Garudas and the Flying Elephant etc., we actually believed that there was a world that was not yet Harry Pottered.

We were told stories of Daniel and the Lion’s Den and looked around for the animals so we could pull thorns out of their feet. Unfortunately the owners of the Circus encouraged us to mingle with the Russians but not with the Beasts.

We looked on with awe as friends and acquaintances showed off their pet dogs and their antics. Mummy said we could neither afford them nor did we have space for them in the tiny Lake Place flat that was home.

Oh those days…when the eyes were open to dreams and hopes were full of impossibilities.

And then we grew up…damn!