i slept all morning. i was roused by anxiety. that tide offood, water and rest that flowed through my weakened system,bringing me a new lease on life, also brought me the strengthto see how desperate my situation was. i awoke to the realityof richard parker. there was a tiger in the lifeboat. i couldhardly believe it, yet i knew i had to. and i had to savemyself. i considered jumping overboard and swimming away,but my body refused to move. i was hundreds of miles fromlandfall, if not over a thousand miles. i couldn't swim such adistance, even with a lifebuoy. what would i eat? what would idrink? how would i keep the sharks away? how would i keepwarm? how would i know which way to go? there was not ashadow of doubt about the matter: to leave the lifeboat meantcertain death. but what was staying aboard? he would come atme like a typical cat, without a sound. before i knew it hewould seize the back of my neck or my throat and i would bepierced by fang-holes. i wouldn't be able to speak. the lifebloodwould flow out of me unmarked by a final utterance. or hewould kill me by clubbing me with one of his great paws,breaking my neck.

"i'm going to die," i blubbered through quivering lips.

oncoming death is terrible enough, but worse still isoncoming death with time to spare, time in which all thehappiness that was yours and all the happiness that might havebeen yours becomes clear to you. you see with utter lucidity allthat you are losing. the sight brings on an oppressive sadnessthat no car about to hit you or water about to drown you canmatch. the feeling is truly unbearable. the words father,mother, ravi, india, winnipeg struck me with searingpoignancy.

i was giving up. i would have given up – if a voice hadn'tmade itself heard in my heart. the voice said, "i will not die. irefuse it. i will make it through this nightmare. i will beat theodds, as great as they are. i have survived so far, miraculously.

now i will turn miracle into routine. the ‘amazing will be seenevery day. i will put in all the hard work necessary. yes, solong as god is with me, i will not die. amen."my face set to a grim and determined expression. i speak inall modesty as i say this, but i discovered at that moment thati have a fierce will to live. it's not something evident, in myexperience. some of us give up on life with only a resignedsigh. others fight a little, then lose hope. still others – and iam one of those – never give up. we fight and fight and fight.

we fight no matter the cost of battle, the losses we take, theimprobability of success. we fight to the very end. it's not aquestion of courage. it's something constitutional, an inability tolet go. it may be nothing more than life-hungry stupidity.

richard parker started growling that very instant, as if hehad been waiting for me to become a worthy opponent. mychest became tight with fear.

"quick, man, quick," i wheezed. i had to organize mysurvival. not a second to waste. i needed shelter and rightaway. i thought of the prow i had made with an oar. but nowthe tarpaulin was unrolled at the bow; there was nothing tohold the oar in place. and i had no proof that hanging at theend of an oar provided real safety from richard< parker. hemight easily reach and nab me. i had to find something else.

my mind worked fast.

i built a raft. the oars, if you remember, floated. and i hadlife jackets and a sturdy lifebuoy.

with bated breath i closed the locker and reached beneaththe tarpaulin for the extra oars on the side benches. richardparker noticed. i could see him through the life jackets. as idragged each oar out – you can imagine how carefully – hestirred in reaction. but he did not turn. i pulled out three oars.

a fourth was already resting crosswise on the tarpaulin. iraised the locker lid to close the opening onto richard parker'sden.

i had four buoyant oars. i set them on the tarpaulin aroundthe lifebuoy. the lifebuoy was now squared by the oars. myraft looked like a game of tic-tac-toe with an o in the centreas the first move.

now came the dangerous part. i needed the life jackets.

richard parker's growling was now a deep rumble that shookthe air. the hyena responded with a whine, a wavering,high-pitched whine, a sure sign that trouble was on the way.

i had no choice. i had to act. i lowered the lid again. thelife jackets were at hand's reach. some were right againstrichard parker. the hyena broke into a scream.

i reached for the closest life jacket. i had difficulty graspingit, my hand was trembling so much. i pulled the jacket out.

richard parker did not seem to notice. i pulled another oneout. and another. i was feeling faint with fear. i was havinggreat difficulty breathing. if need be, i told myself, i couldthrow myself overboard with these life jackets. i pulled a lastone out. i had four life jackets.

pulling the oars in one after the next, i worked themthrough the armholes of the life jackets – in one armhole, outthe other – so that the life jackets became secured to the fourcorners of the raft. i tied each one shut.

i found one of the buoyant ropes in the locker. with theknife, i cut four segments. i tightly lashed the four oars wherethey met. ah, to have had a practical education in knots! ateach corner i made ten knots and still i worried that the oarswould come apart. i worked feverishly, all the while cursing mystupidity. a tiger aboard and i had waited three days andthree nights to save my life!

i cut four more segments of the buoyant rope and tied thelifebuoy to each side of the square. i wove the lifebuoy's ropethrough the life jackets, around the oars, in and out of thelifebuoy – all round the raft – as yet another precautionagainst the raft breaking into pieces.

the hyena was now screaming at top pitch.

one last thing to do. "god, give me the time," i implored. itook the rest of the buoyant line. there was a hole that wentthrough the stem of the boat, near the top. i brought thebuoyant rope through it and hitched it. i only had to hitch theother end of the rope to the raft and i might be saved.

the hyena fell silent. my heart stopped and then beat triplespeed. i turned.

"jesus, mary, muhammad and vishnu!"i saw a sight that will stay with me for the rest of my days.

richard parker had risen and emerged. he was not fifteen feetfrom me. oh, the size of him! the hyena's end had come, andmine. i stood rooted to the spot, paralyzed, in thrall to theaction before my eyes. my brief experience with the relations ofunconfmed wild animals in lifeboats had made me expect greatnoise and protest when the time came for bloodshed. but ithappened practically in silence. the hyena died neither whiningnor whimpering, and richard parker killed without a sound.

the flame-coloured carnivore emerged from beneath thetarpaulin and made for the hyena. the hyena was leaningagainst the stern bench, behind the zebra's carcass, transfixed.

it did not put up a fight. instead it shrank to the floor, liftinga forepaw in a futile gesture of defence. the look on its facewas of terror. a massive paw landed on its shoulders. richardparker's jaws closed on the side of the hyena's neck. its glazedeyes widened. there was a noise of organic crunching aswindpipe and spinal cord were crushed. the hyena shook. itseyes went dull. it was over.

richard parker let go and growled. but a quiet growl, privateand half-hearted, it seemed. he was panting, his tonguehanging from his mouth. he licked his chops. he shook hishead. he sniffed the dead hyena. he raised his head high andsmelled the air. he placed his forepaws on the stern benchand lifted himself. his feet were wide apart. the rolling of theboat, though gentle, was visibly not to his liking. he lookedbeyond the gunnel at the open seas. he put out a low, meansnarl. he smelled the air again. he slowly turned his head. itturned – turned – turned full round – till he was lookingstraight at me. i wish i could describe what happened next,not as i saw it, which i might manage, but as i felt it. ibeheld richard parker from the angle that showed him off togreatest effect: from the back, half-raised, with his head turned.

the stance had something of a pose to it, as if it were anintentional, even affected, display of mighty art. and what art,what might. his presence was overwhelming, yet equally evidentwas the lithesome grace of it. he was incredibly muscular, yethis haunches were thin and his glossy coat hung loosely on hisframe. his body, bright brownish orange streaked with blackvertical stripes, was incomparably beautiful, matched with atailor's eye for harmony by his pure white chest and undersideand the black rings of his long tail. his head was large andround, displaying formidable sideburns, a stylish goatee andsome of the finest whiskers of the cat world, thick, long andwhite. atop the head were small, expressive ears shaped likeperfect arches. his carrot orange face had a broad bridge anda pink nose, and it was made up with brazen flair. wavy dabsof black circled the face in a pattern that was striking yetsubtle, for it brought less attention to itself than it did to theone part of the face left untouched by it, the bridge, whoserufous lustre shone nearly with a radiance. the patches ofwhite above the eyes, on the cheeks and around the mouthcame off as finishing touches worthy of a kathakali dancer. theresult was a face that looked like the wings of a butterfly andbore an expression vaguely old and chinese. but when richardparker's amber eyes met mine, the stare was intense, cold andunflinching, not flighty or friendly, and spoke of self-possessionon the point of exploding with rage. his ears twitched and thenswivelled right around. one of his lips began to rise and fall.

the yellow canine thus coyly revealed was as long as mylongest finger.

every hair on me was standing up, shrieking with fear.

that's when the rat appeared. out of nowhere, a scrawnybrown rat materialized on the side bench, nervous andbreathless. richard parker looked as astonished as i was. therat leapt onto the tarpaulin and raced my way. at the sight, inshock and surprise, my legs gave way beneath me and ipractically fell into the locker. before my incredulous eyes therodent hopped over the various parts of the raft, jumped ontome and climbed to the top of my head, where i felt its littleclaws clamping down on my scalp, holding on for dear life.

richard parker's eyes had followed the rat. they were nowfixed on my head.

he completed the turn of his head with a slow turn of hisbody, moving his forepaws sideways along the side bench. hedropped to the floor of the boat with ponderous ease. i couldsee the top of his head, his back and his long, curled tail. hisears lay flat against his skull. in three paces he was at themiddle of the boat. without effort the front half of his bodyrose in the air and his forepaws came to rest on the rolled-upedge of the tarpaulin.

he was less than ten feet away. his head, his chest, hispaws – so big! so big! his teeth – an entire army battalion ina mouth. he was making to jump onto the tarpaulin. i wasabout to die.

but the tarpaulin's strange softness bothered him. he pressedat it tentatively. he looked up anxiously – the exposure to somuch light and open space did not please him either. and therolling motion of the boat continued to unsettle him. for a briefmoment, richard parker was hesitating.

i grabbed the rat and threw it his way. i can still see it inmy mind as it sailed through the air – its outstretched clawsand erect tail, its tiny elongated scrotum and pinpoint anus.

richard parker opened his maw and the squealing ratdisappeared into it like a baseball into a catcher's mitt. itshairless tail vanished like a spaghetti noodle sucked into amouth.

he seemed satisfied with the offering. he backed down andreturned beneath the tarpaulin. my legs instantly becamefunctional again. i leapt up and raised the locker lid again toblock the open space between bow bench and tarpaulin.

i heard loud sniffing and the noise of a body being dragged.

his shifting weight made the boat rock a little. i began hearingthe sound of a mouth eating. i peeked beneath the tarpaulin.

he was in the middle of the boat. he was eating the hyena bygreat chunks, voraciously. this chance would not come again. ireached and retrieved the remaining life jackets – six in all –and the last oar. they would go to improving the raft. inoticed in passing a smell. it was not the sharp smell of catpiss. it was vomit. there was a patch of it on the floor of theboat. it must have come from richard parker. so he wasindeed seasick.

i hitched the long rope to the raft. lifeboat and raft werenow tethered. next i attached a life jacket to each side of theraft, on its underside. another life jacket i strapped across thehole of the lifebuoy to act as a seat. i turned the last oar intoa footrest, lashing it on one side of the raft, about two feetfrom the lifebuoy, and tying the remaining life jacket to it. myfingers trembled as i worked, and my breath was short andstrained. i checked and rechecked all my knots.

i looked about the sea. only great, gentle swells. nowhitecaps. the wind was low and constant. i looked down.

there were fish – big fish with protruding foreheads and verylong dorsal fins, dorados they are called, and smaller fish, leanand long, unknown to me, and smaller ones still – and therewere sharks.

i eased the raft off the lifeboat. if for some reason it didnot float, i was as good as dead. it took to the waterbeautifully. in fact, the buoyancy of the life jackets was suchthat they pushed the oars and the lifebuoy right out of thewater. but my heart sank. as soon as the raft touched thewater, the fish scattered – except for the sharks. theyremained. three or four of them. one swam directly beneaththe raft. richard parker growled.

i felt like a prisoner being pushed off a plank by pirates.

i brought the raft as close to the lifeboat as the protrudingtips of the oars would allow. i leaned out and lay my handson the lifebuoy. through the "cracks" in the floor of the raft –yawning crevasses would be more accurate – i looked directlyinto the bottomless depths of the sea. i heard richard parkeragain. i flopped onto the raft on my stomach. i lay flat andspread-eagled and did not move a finger. i expected the raft tooverturn at any moment. or a shark to lunge and bite rightthrough the life jackets and oars. neither happened. the raftsank lower and pitched and rolled, the tips of the oars dippingunderwater, but it floated robustly. sharks came close, but didnot touch.

i felt a gentle tug. the raft swung round. i raised my head.

the lifeboat and the raft had already separated as far as therope would go, about forty feet. the rope tensed and lifted outof the water and wavered in the air. it was a highly distressingsight. i had fled the lifeboat to save my life. now i wanted toget back. this raft business was far too precarious. it onlyneeded a shark to bite the rope, or a knot to become undone,or a large wave to crash upon me, and i would be lost.

compared to the raft, the lifeboat now seemed a haven ofcomfort and security.

i gingerly turned over. i sat up. stability was good, so far.

my footrest worked well enough. but it was all too small. therewas just enough space to sit on and no more. this toy raft,mini-raft, micro-raft, might do for a pond, but not for thepacific ocean. i took hold of the rope and pulled. the closer igot to the lifeboat, the slower i pulled. when i was next to thelifeboat, i heard richard parker. he was still eating.

i hesitated for long minutes.

i stayed on the raft. i didn't see what else i could do. myoptions were limited to perching above a tiger or hovering oversharks. i knew perfectly well how dangerous richard parkerwas. sharks, on the other hand, had not yet proved to bedangerous. i checked the knots that held the rope to thelifeboat and to the raft. i let the rope out until i was thirty orso feet from the lifeboat, the distance that about rightlybalanced my two fears: being too close to richard parker andbeing too far from the lifeboat. the extra rope, ten feet or so,i looped around the footrest oar. i could easily let out slack ifthe need arose.

the day was ending. it started to rain. it had been overcastand warm all day. now the temperature dropped, and thedownpour was steady and cold. all around me heavy drops offresh water plopped loudly and wastefully into the sea, dimplingits surface. i pulled on the rope again. when i was at the bowi turned onto my knees and took hold of the stem. i pulledmyself up and carefully peeped over the gunnel. he wasn't insight.

i hurriedly reached down into the locker. i grabbed a raincatcher, a fifty-litre plastic bag, a blanket and the survivalmanual. i slammed the locker lid shut. i didn't mean to slam it– only to protect my precious goods from the rain – but thelid slipped from my wet hand. it was a bad mistake. in thevery act of revealing myself to richard parker by bringingdown what blocked his view, i made a great loud noise toattract his attention. he was crouched over the hyena. hishead turned instantly. many animals intensely dislike beingdisturbed while they are eating. richard parker snarled. hisclaws tensed. the tip of his tail twitched electrically. i fell backonto the raft, and i believe it was terror as much as wind andcurrent that widened the distance between raft and lifeboat soswiftly. i let out all the rope. i expected richard parker toburst forth from the boat, sailing through the air, teeth andclaws reaching for me. i kept my eyes on the boat. the longeri looked, the more unbearable was the expectation.

he did not appear.

by the time i had opened the rain catcher above my headand tucked my feet into the plastic bag, i was already soakedto the bones. and the blanket had got wet when i fell backonto the raft. i wrapped myself with it nonetheless.

night crept up. my surroundings disappeared into pitch-blackdarkness. only the regular tugging of the rope at the raft toldme that i was still attached to the lifeboat. the sea, inchesbeneath me yet too far for my eyes, buffeted the raft. fingersof water reached up furtively through the cracks and wet mybottom.