Q

Went to the zoo with brilliant company. I had fun, as I always do at the zoo. But this time round it was  shaded vaguely by a strange sadness. At every exhibit, we would exclaim over the animals, mimic their sounds, and giggle over comments of the animal’s silliness. And then almost inadvertently we’d remark on how sad they looked, or how bored, or how lethargic.

This time, I was more aware of their captivity than I ever had. I know it’s an inevitable compromise: for us to appreciate and understand the animals, and raise awareness about their likely endangerment, we need to put them within observable proximity of the general public. Mandai Zoo brings out the message of conservation pretty well, and for that I admire them. And I can tell how much the people there really care for the animals, and they try their best to reconstruct their natural habitat. But. Still.

The most striking thing I’ve brought back from this excursion are these images: the lone polar bear blinking at the sun, its back to the gawking crowd. The crazed wolverine who ran around in endless circles. The lioness’ resentful and haughty, but weary gaze.

It may be true that many of these animals were born into captivity, and it may be me attributing too much to these lazy creatures of leisure. But there’s just something pathetic about the artificiality and inadequacy of the enclosures. I can’t help thinking that they know, somehow, that they’re being deprived of something grand and vast and beautiful.

Maybe it’s because sometimes I get bouts of wilderness yearning, when my inner jungle girl longs to be in the great plains of Africa leaping about with deers, but it makes me wonder how animals so innately wild can stand being closed off if even a severely domesticated creature such as I – with endless entertainment – desire the wilderness.

Yeah it’s just very silly and everything I know.