How the City Makes an Animal of Us – An Animated Short

Like any morning in any city – life is like the life of many animals, rolled into one.

Through the day, our life becomes like that of many animals. (Illustration: Susnata Paul/ The Quint)

It’s a day. Any day.

It’s a city. Any city.

And a day in the life of anyone, staying in any city has them behaving like many animals.

The elephant in us wakes up, brushes off the last vestiges of sleep from his trunk and trudges his heavy feet to the bathroom.

The bird in us sings with abandon, shaking off the worries on our mind (Illustration: Susnata Paul/ The Quint)

The shower comes on – water falls, like it does every day. Except, what’s this? The elephant is now a bird. A bird singing with alacrity. The fetters of everyday routine are shaken off as it bursts into song – such a joyous song!

They say a picture speaks a thousand words, and it must be true, because this is black and white no longer. Colour splashes across the room, as we sing – colours that reflect individuality, bursting through…

But only for a moment. Suddenly the song is over, because we’re late for work!

Pitter-patter. Scamper and pant.

The cheetah in us, tries to not lose out on the rat race (Illustration: Susnata Paul/ The Quint)

The cheetah is bounding – like it bounds everyday – through traffic, through familiar roads and roughs it way into the Metro. There is no one faster than it on this route.

It must start its day as the regular nobody.

And so it begins. A hundred fax machines and computer keys clattering at the same time, in rhythm. You can see the meek head of our sheep among the hundred.

The herd at work, hard at work (Illustration: Susnata Paul/ The Quint)

It is done. It is time for the regular nobody to get home. A bunch of rats scamper down the Metro steps (‘racing’ to outdo the other) – except those two at the top of the stairs. They hug. They are black and white no longer.

It’s love that fills us up with colour (Illustration: Susnata Paul/ The Quint)

We are now at a party. When the night is young, the wolves and the hyenas come out to play?

But dancing has exhausted him. He must make his way home, like he does every night. And there you see the sloth, crawling to reach the bed.

As Desmond Morris put it– “...the city is not a concrete jungle, it’s a human zoo.” (Illustration: Susnata Paul/ The Quint)

Sleep descends. And it’s only in dreams, the jungle comes alive. The nobody is finally untamed. It is time to end the day. And begin a new one, just like the one before.

Text by Urmi Bhattacheryya