I suppose in the end, the whole of life becomes an act of letting go, but what always hurts the most is not taking a moment to say goodbye.
I was so spent, I could hardly move. And so, Richard Parker went ahead of me. He stretched his legs, and walked along the shore. At the edge of the jungle, he stopped. I was certain he was going to look back at me, flatten his ears to his head, growl. That he would bring our relationship to an end in some way. But he just stared ahead into the jungle.
And then Richard Parker, my fierce companion, the terrible one who kept me alive, disappeared forever from my life.
After a few hours, a member of my own species found me. He left and returned with a group who carried me away. I wept like a child. Not because I was overwhelmed at having survived, although I was. I was weeping because Richard Parker left me so unceremoniously. It broke my heart.
You know, my father was right. Richard Parker never saw me as his friend. After all we had been through, he didn’t even look back. But I have to believe there was more in his eyes than my own reflection staring back at me. I know it, I felt it, even if I can’t prove it. You know, I’ve left so much behind: my family, the zoo, India, Anandi. I suppose in the end, the whole of life becomes an act of letting go. But what always hurts the most is not taking a moment to say goodbye. I was never able to thank my father for all I learned from him. To tell him, without his lessons, I would never have survived. I know Richard Parker is a tiger but I wish I had said, “It’s over. We survived. Thank you for saving my life. I love you, Richard Parker. You’ll always be with me. May God be with you.”
No one has seen that island since, and you’d never read about those trees in any book. And yet, if I hadn’t found those shores I would have died, if I hadn’t discovered that tooth I would have been lost alone forever. Even when God seemed to have abandoned me, he was watching. Even when He seemed indifferent to my suffering, He was watching and when I was beyond all hope of saving… He gave me rest and gave me a sign to continue my journey…
Born and raised. In Pondicherry, in what was the French part of India. My father owned the zoo, and I was delivered on short notice by a herpetologist, who was there to check on the Bengal monitor lizard. Mother and I were both healthy, but the poor lizard escaped and was trampled by a frightened cassowary. The way of karma, huh? The way of God.
My uncle Francis was born with too much water in his lungs. They say the doctors swung Francis around by the ankles to clear the water out, and that’s what gave him the huge chest and skinny legs that made him such a great swimmer.
No one has seen that island since, and you’d never read about those trees in any book. And yet, if I hadn’t found
