Things That Bang

Travel Review written by Aaman

When we drive up to Mysore, which is just over two hours from Bangalore on the well-constructed new highway, we tend to leave by 4:30 AM or so to beat the morning traffic build-up as you get out of the city. This time, though, it was about 5 as we bundled the drowsy kids into the backseat, double-checked locks, bags, cats in the house and bumped our way through the half-completed road in front of our house towards the highway.

I took the on-ramp to the spanking new and as-yet incomplete NICE Road (or the Bangalore-Mysore Nandi Infrastructure and Corridor Expansion). The series of tolls before we touched the Mysore road took a somewhat unusual bite of over Rs. 50/-, unusual for a city that has taken its infrastructure for granted, and cannot fathom paying for better services. The toll road is a breeze, smooth tarmac, enclosed in a cocoon of cleanliness, and a time-saving wonder, except for the brief patch of disputed land.

Once we were on Mysore Road, our next landmark was our favorite halt at the Janapada Loka restaurant, which serves cylindrical idlis wrapped in plantain leaves, and piping hot coffee. Soon after, we drove past the drive-thru Mickey D's promising ourselves a visit on the return leg. We reached Mysore in good time, checked in to our temporary quarters, and post a quick bite, set out to explore the city.

We decided to check out the much-praised Mysore Zoo, set up by Chamaraja Wodeyar of Mysore in 1892, and designed by the German designer G H Krumbeigal, who also designed the Brindavan Gardens at the KRS Dam in Mysore, and Cubbon Park in Bangalore. The zoo was originally ten acres and has since expanded to over 250 acres of verdant greenery, very close to the Mysore Palace and juxtaposed against the slopes of the Chamundi Hill.

As soon as we stepped into the zoo, we knew we were in for a treat. The first exhibit was a large expanse of green with a few sparse trees and some very tall giraffes. One particular chap was quite curious about the visitors, bending down and peering almost into our faces.

The exhibits are laid out along a three km long path, and a nifty tour bus trundles along for those who might prefer a more sedentary pace.

Often the tour bus is held up by a bullock cart carrying snacks for the zoo's inhabitants.

The large felines have a happy hunting ground and seemed quite content. This particular tigress seemed to be waiting for her lunch to be served.

The Mysore Zoo is also the only zoo in South Asia to host a gorilla. He seemed quite glum and pensive.

An African elephant is also in residence, and a couple of lions.

Some of the best exhibits are the birds, ranging from pelicans to swans to more exotic varieties.

Zoos do engender an uncomfortable reaction. On the one hand, they perform a useful service, and well-run zoos like the Mysore Zoo are a delightful experience. On the other, the scenes of engineered captivity are unsettling, especially the evident pathos many of the animals display. The New York Times addresses some of these concerns in a recent article about the new snow leopard exhibit at the Central Park Zoo.

one of the dominant impulses in the contemporary zoo is a guilty conscience: Yes, we capture these wild creatures and put them on display, but we affirm that it is being done to save them— and to teach others to save them.

These justifications shape an approach to design. No one could wish a return to the 19th-century cages or the monkey houses you can still find in older zoos; they overwhelm with the stench of enclosed animal life, and cannot fail to inspire pity or dismay.

Now the smells are gone (zoos have become nasally antiseptic). And in the lovely snow leopard exhibition, the old zoo order is thoroughly overturned: the animals are on the outside and humans in the enclosure. But is this model any less artificial than the old? Look closely: Nature here is a stage set, portraying something we want to see and something we believe animals want to see. The waterfall, rocks and mist are manufactured, created for both the viewers’ pleasure and the animals’, shaping a creaturely spa for voyeurs. Some fake rocks are even heated during cold weather.

The claim is that this is an improvement on the natural world. The animals are taken in at night for safety and housed in a facility that allows for breeding and offspring. They are protected from the hazards of avalanche and predator. We are tempted to believe that the animals may be better off here: to speak anthropomorphically, happier.

The Mysore Zoo adheres to this principle of making the habitats aesthetically pleasing and more attuned to the animals' needs than merely cages with the stench of unhappiness. Visitors, too, seem respectful of their surroundings. There was minimal litter, and people did not crowd around noisily at the cages, hooting at the animals (well, a few did). This was a marked contrast to the Bannerghata National Park in Bangalore, which is a ghastly, over-crowded, poorly maintained excuse for a zoo. Interestingly, the Mysore Zoo is an autonomous body, not receiving any funds from the government. There were some incidents of animals dying mysteriously in 2004, including a couple of elephants, a macaque, an emu, and a tiger, allegedly due to poisoning.