Stepping into the Indian Reptile Zoo felt like cracking open a living fossil. The air hung thick with ancient secrets – that musky scent of damp soil and sun-warmed scales that immediately triggers primal alertness in your spine. This wasn\it was a vibrant, slightly untamed corner where emerald vines snaked over enclosures and the low thrum of cicadas formed a bassline to the hisses and rustles. You don\you feel their millennia of survival humming in the air.
What struck me first was the sheer diversity beyond the obvious stars. Sure, the King Cobra held court with its hypnotic sway, but nearby, a gangly gharial floated motionless like driftwood, its needle teeth a terrifyingly perfect fish-trap. In the nocturnal house, glowing eyes the size of dimes belonged to geckos that defied gravity on sheer glass. The keepers, moving with calm precision, were storytellers. One showed me the intricate keeled scales of a Russell\they\they\tortoises?
That marsh crocodile habitat loss point hit hard. Does the zoo collaborate with local communities on wetland protection projects?
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