My father, a nature lover, had immense love for flora and fauna. At one stage in my early days, my feeling was that were it possible for him he would have taken our entire family consisting of my old grandmother, mother and my siblings to some dense forest and lodged us all in some tree house.

From his point of view, there could not have been a better way of enjoying the charm of flora and fauna from such close quarters. In the event of our refusal to go, the other option before him could have been to go alone and settle there. But as neither was feasible, he exercised a third one — he decided to turn the big courtyard located in the centre of our ancestral house into a virtual jungle with as many animals as possible roaming freely.

The courtyard being cemented, he brought scores of flower pots of different sizes with a variety of plants. That turned the place into a beautiful garden. The plants and the fragrance emitted by flowers gave us heavenly bliss. Our house being located in the centre of the dense city, the courtyard looked like an oasis in the desert. So far so good. But that was only Part I of his plan,

Part II commenced when a few days later we saw father entering the house with a cute little fawn in his arms. (Not all birds and animals were declared protected under the law those days. One could easily buy them from the market). We jumped at its sight out of joy and vied to fondle and kiss the brown and white creature. But our joy was short-lived.

While our mother watched silently with awe, our grandmother came down heavily on father: “In your over-enthusiasm you forgot that deprived of natural surroundings, this fawn won’t survive in this concrete house” she chided him and ordered him to take it back. On our insistence, it was allowed to stay with us for a couple of days. But it spoiled its case by chewing up most of our plants. We had to say goodbye to it. So sad!

The odds notwithstanding, there was no stopping father. A few days later, he brought a pair of white rabbits. Once again, we were all delighted. They hopped from one place to another as we chased them to play with, but that led to another storm. My grandma angrily asked him: “Where would they scoop out earth, their natural trait? What would they do in a concrete courtyard?”

Father used to arrange fodder for both the fawn as well as the rabbits, but they could not have accepted the lifestyle imposed by humans.

As could be expected, there was another directive from her that led to the rabbits’ exit the next day.

In fact, our grandma was no less a nature and animal lover, but being a practical and conscious person, she could not stand any cruelty to animals. That’s why the chiding.

There was a lull for about a week when we thought it was now over. But father’s enthusiasm had not abated. Our next guests were a pair of white mice which were brought in a cage by father. Grandma frowned once again, but refrained from reprimanding her son. Maybe, she thought he was incorrigible.

Also, the mice did not cause antagonism because their area of operation was limited to the cage. So, they stayed with us for a longer period. But another problem was in store for us. In a short period, they multiplied in leaps and bounds. The wire cage fell short of the requirement.

Father tried to lure people to accept the surplus population, but there were no takers. Left with no option, all of them had to be freed. “Good riddance” one would have said, but not my father who was feeling uneasy without some pet in the house.

Within a week, he managed a mongrel and a kitten that were universally acceptable. Being very young, they had learnt to coexist. They posed no problem.

And we lived happily thereafter.

Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.