Write an autobiography of tiger
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autobiography of tiger
I was born as a Royal Bengal Tiger in a dark den in the beautiful forest of Sunderbans and was given the name 'Sheru'. Raised by my parents and my maternal grandfather, I spent a very happy childhood. I had many friends, who used to play with me everyday. One day, mother, my friends and I went out into the forest. Mother wanted to teach us how to hunt. After an adventurous hunt, we caught a deer, with which we had a very good meal. While returning, all of us suddenly heard a gunshot, which made me jump up. We ran as fast as we could. Luckily enough, we came across a huge cave and we hid in it. Unfortunately, one of my friends was shot right in the chest. He fell down instantly and (as it seemed) died. We saw a hunter coming up to the dead body of my dear friend and saw him for the last time as the hunter took him away. That was the first time I came across such a thing and thus I learnt for the first time how harsh the world was.
After a few days I went with my grandfather to drink water to the nearby river. While returning, I heard a rustle in the nearby bushes. We started running but suddenly I felt something pulling my leg and fell in a trap and everything seemed to black out. I woke up to find that I was taken to a circus.
A few days passed. I was taught new tricks and I also made several friends. Then, at last the day of my first show came. Everything went all right. I felt very proud to be clapped at. My friends, the bear and the parrot also performed several tricks. I marvelled at their performance and resolved to improve.
The days passed by happily. However, I was observing for several days that Baloo, for so was his name, was deteriorating. One day, he did not perform in the circus. Since he used to stay with me in the same tent I could easily go and see him. The next day, I went to our tent and found him lying down. "Baloo, Baloo!" I called. He didn't respond. I then realized that he was no more. I was overcome with grief and it also affected my performance as I could not concentrate. However, the show seemed to go on quite well until the middle. I was to jump through a burning ring. While doing so, I recalled how he used to help me practice but that only made matters worse and I jumped through an incorrect angle. A sharp pain shot down my back. However, the others performed well. The ringmaster realized that I was useless now and he decided to leave me in the forest.
That night, I was loaded onto a circus truck and taken to the same forest from where I was brought.
Now, I have become old and weak but at least I can still hunt. I now live alone and am quite lonely. I wish my master, who was although cruel to me, success in his endeavour.
I was born as a Royal Bengal Tiger in a dark den in the beautiful forest of Sunderbans and was given the name 'Sheru'. Raised by my parents and my maternal grandfather, I spent a very happy childhood. I had many friends, who used to play with me everyday. One day, mother, my friends and I went out into the forest. Mother wanted to teach us how to hunt. After an adventurous hunt, we caught a deer, with which we had a very good meal. While returning, all of us suddenly heard a gunshot, which made me jump up. We ran as fast as we could. Luckily enough, we came across a huge cave and we hid in it. Unfortunately, one of my friends was shot right in the chest. He fell down instantly and (as it seemed) died. We saw a hunter coming up to the dead body of my dear friend and saw him for the last time as the hunter took him away. That was the first time I came across such a thing and thus I learnt for the first time how harsh the world was.
After a few days I went with my grandfather to drink water to the nearby river. While returning, I heard a rustle in the nearby bushes. We started running but suddenly I felt something pulling my leg and fell in a trap and everything seemed to black out. I woke up to find that I was taken to a circus.
A few days passed. I was taught new tricks and I also made several friends. Then, at last the day of my first show came. Everything went all right. I felt very proud to be clapped at. My friends, the bear and the parrot also performed several tricks. I marvelled at their performance and resolved to improve.
The days passed by happily. However, I was observing for several days that Baloo, for so was his name, was deteriorating. One day, he did not perform in the circus. Since he used to stay with me in the same tent I could easily go and see him. The next day, I went to our tent and found him lying down. "Baloo, Baloo!" I called. He didn't respond. I then realized that he was no more. I was overcome with grief and it also affected my performance as I could not concentrate. However, the show seemed to go on quite well until the middle. I was to jump through a burning ring. While doing so, I recalled how he used to help me practice but that only made matters worse and I jumped through an incorrect angle. A sharp pain shot down my back. However, the others performed well. The ringmaster realized that I was useless now and he decided to leave me in the forest.
That night, I was loaded onto a circus truck and taken to the same forest from where I was brought.
Now, I have become old and weak but at least I can still hunt. I now live alone and am quite lonely. I wish my master, who was although cruel to me, success in his endeavour.
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