I derive much ananda (bliss) watching ‘wild animals’ in their own habitat. Their movements, their relations with others of their own kind, their free uninhibited lives are very attractive to behold. They do not grieve, lamenting their misfortune, comparing their fate with that of other denizens of the forest. They do not clamour for fame. They do not plan and prepare to earn positions of power and authority over other animals. They are not eager to accumulate possessions that are superfluous. When we consider these traits we are led to conclude that they are leading lives of a higher grade than men. Men have the extra qualifications of education; they have the moral sense, and the capacity to judge and discriminate. But yet they are caught in the coils of greed. Greed is the seedbed of grief.

We spent the night in the wooden houses over the trees. In that area (game park in East Africa in 1968) were very big lions, cheetahs zebras, bison, giraffes; and many other kinds of wild animals were freely moving in thousands. The way in which these various animals were moving about with mutual co-operation and adjustability appears to suggest that they are better than human beings in the present day world, where humanism and human-ness are altogether dying out. The scenes where these wild animals were moving together eating together, drinking together and licking each other with friendly feelings, appears to me to teach a lesson even to human beings. In all of them godliness was clearly visible. (EL, pp. 74-75)