Delhi zoo receives otters from Surat after two decades of wait
The animals have been kept in quarantine. The otters are being fed their favourite fishes, and the turtles are being given vegetables.
"Otters and star tortoises have been kept under observation. They will be released for public view after a quarantine period of 3-4 weeks," said Dr Sanjeet Kumar, the zoo director. Otters like clear water, and special ponds will be created for this, he added.
You Can Also Check:
Delhi AQI
|
Weather in Delhi
|
Bank Holidays in Delhi
|
Public Holidays in Delhi
|
Gold Rates Today in Delhi
|
Silver Rates Today in Delhi
The otters, approximately 2 years old, reached the zoo around 1 pm after completing a 1,200-km journey across three states — Gujarat, Madhya Pradesh and Rajasthan — over two days.
The transporting vehicle had water tanks and ample fishes to bring them here without any stress. On its journey back, the truck will carry five Eld's deer, two blue and yellow macaws, and four green-cheeked macaws from the Delhi zoo, under the exchange agreement between National Zoological Garden (the Delhi zoo) and Dr Shyama Prasad Mukherjee Zoological Garden, Surat.
Veterinarian Dr Abhijit Bhawal, who went to bring the otters, was accompanied by Dr Rajesh Patil from the Surat zoo for better monitoring of the mammals on their journey.
by Taboola
by Taboola
Sponsored Links
Sponsored Links
Promoted Links
Promoted Links
You May Like
Could This NEW Collagen Blend Finally Reduce Your Cellulite?
Vitauthority
Learn More
Undo
They helped them acclimatise, inspected their new enclosure and gave suggestions for improvement. He said that otters would be able to breed in a year's time.
"After two decades, we are getting the otters. These two otters have been separated from their family, so we have to be very careful in their upkeep. Patil's inputs on the newly constructed breeding cell will be helpful in managing the otters. The last otter at the Delhi zoo died in 2004, and we hope to revive its population here in the coming days. Otters love species of fish like Bombay duck fish, mud fish, Indian white mullet and Asian sea bass.
During the journey, we examined the animals and gave them rest every 200 km," said Dr Bhawal.
Stay updated with the latest local news from your
city
on
Times of India
(TOI). Check upcoming
bank holidays
,
public holidays
, and current
gold rates
and
silver prices
in your area.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Time of India
23 minutes ago
- Time of India
CGBSE Supplementary Result 2025: When will the CG Board Class 10 and 12 results be declared?
CGBSE Supplementary Result 2025: When will the CG Board Class 10 and 12 results be released? CGBSE Supplementary Result 2025: The Chhattisgarh Board of Secondary Education (CGBSE) is set to declare the Class 10 and 12 supplementary examination results for 2025 shortly. Students who appeared for the CGBSE supplementary examinations in July 2025 are advised to stay alert, as the results are expected to be released online soon via the official websites — and The supplementary examinations were conducted for students who were unable to score the minimum passing marks of 33% in one or two subjects in the regular board exams. The Class 10 exams took place from July 9 to July 21, while the Class 12 exams were held from July 8 to July 22, 2025, in offline mode. CGBSE supplementary result 2025 date and time The board has not yet officially announced the exact date and time of the result declaration. However, based on previous years' trends, the results are expected to be declared in the latter part of August 2025. Students are advised to keep their admit cards ready and regularly check the official websites for updates. The results will be made available on and Details mentioned on the CGBSE supplementary result 2025 Once released, the CGBSE supplementary result 2025 will include the following details: • Student's name • Roll number • School name • Subject-wise marks • Total marks • Percentage • Result status (pass/fail) Candidates must carefully verify all the information on the scorecard. by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like Could This NEW Collagen Blend Finally Reduce Your Cellulite? Vitauthority Learn More Undo In case of any discrepancies or errors, they should immediately contact the board or concerned authority for rectification. How to check and download the CGBSE supplementary result 2025 Students can follow the steps below to check and download their supplementary results once they are released: Step 1: Visit the official website of CGBSE at Step 2: On the homepage, click on the link that says "CGBSE Class 10/12 Supplementary Result 2025". Step 3: Enter your roll number and captcha code as displayed on the screen. Step 4: Click on the "Submit" button to proceed. Step 5: Your result will be displayed on the screen. Download and take a printout for future reference. Direct link to check the CGBSE Class 10 and 12 Supplementary Result 2025 Websites to check CGBSE Class 10 and 12 results Students can access their Class 10 and Class 12 supplementary results on the following official websites: • • It is recommended to check the websites frequently for any official notification related to the result declaration. Examinations were held in July 2025 The supplementary examinations were conducted for students who failed to pass one or two subjects in the main board examination. The Class 10 supplementary exams were held from July 9 to July 21, while the Class 12 exams were conducted from July 8 to July 22, 2025. Students are advised to stay connected with the official portals and keep their login credentials ready to avoid delays in checking their results. TOI Education is on WhatsApp now. Follow us here . Ready to navigate global policies? Secure your overseas future. Get expert guidance now!
Scroll.in
3 hours ago
- Scroll.in
From the memoir: How a boy born in a courtesan's quarters became a writer
My mother entertained the thought of killing me. A few hours before I was born. In the hierarchy of noble thoughts, I ranked second in priority. Her own life claimed the top spot – and with good reason: She had to survive before any of this, whether my story or even hers, was possible. Bachcha jaane do, mujhe bachaao, she cried. Let go of the baby, save me. To her credit, she did not use the more actionable words bachcha maar do. Kill the (damn) baby. She could not have possibly said that. Was her God testing her? Let go, as in let it slip away. Jaane do. A first-time mother – but a murderess? Oh no, she was incapable of that. No gestating mother wants to be a baby killer. But what if it involves a deliver-and-die scenario? Mujhe bachcha nahi chahiye, she frantically repeated, trying to make herself heard loud and clear to the nurses treating her. I don't want the baby. She was pleading mercy to the surgeon gods. She did not mean to kill the foetus. But in this dire situation, she did not want it, especially if saving it meant her own life would be exterminated. She was being wheeled into the operation theatre for a messy delivery. She had overheard the lady doctor Bohra confide to a nurse that they would have to do a Caesarean. Cut her stomach into two and piece her back again, like an illusionist's trick. A normal delivery was ruled out. There was a high probability of losing one of us. Her pelvis was too fragile to push the baby out, her vagina too small to yawn or regurgitate it like a food disagreeable with her sensitive stomach. I had turtled and turned my face away inside her womb, unwilling to leave the comfort of the warm amniotic fluid I was floating in. She was in great pain – a scrawny young woman who was in the hospital for six months, carrying a foetus her body could not bear the weight of. My najayaz, illegitimate, father, Rehmat Khan, used to visit her infrequently. His chamchas, sycophant friends, visited my mother, filling her ears with gossip about how he frequented the kothas of other tawaifs in her long absence. Woh Meena ke kothe pe hain. Woh Geeta ke kothe pe hain. Woh Malka ke kothe pe hain. Rehmat Khan had quite the appetite for entertainment. Mother had not married him. Khan Saab, as she called him, was her patron in the kotha where she worked as a tawaif, performing mujras. They had quarrelled about the baby. She wanted it. He agreed for her to have it. But he wanted no other responsibility. He was already a family man with a wife in purdah and three happy children. They were clueless about his secret life in the kothas, or helpless, as most Indian households are when they discover their hostile dependency on a serial adulterer. Main apna naam nahi de sakta, he said. How could he give his name to a tawaif's child? La haul bila kuat! Ironic for a man whose name, Rehmat, means compassion, kindness, mercy. His double standards aggravated her labour pain to a dirge she was singing at her own funeral. My mother had conceived a baby because she wanted to get back at the sniggering tawaifs in the kotha who mocked her, calling her baanjh, infertile – a woman who would have no legacy. So she demanded a child when my father was courting her. Mujhe bachcha chahiye, she tempestuously said to him one day. It was an order, not a request. She knew he was married. She had spent enough time in her profession to understand that no bachelor was going to arrive at her kotha with a colourful, noisily musical baraat. That is a rather early plug for the funereal but hopeful climax of Pakeezah, where Allama Iqbal's sher is aptly read aloud: Hazāroñ saal nargis apnī be-nūrī pe rotī hai Baḍī mushkil se hotā hai chaman meñ dīda-var paidā. Unadmired, the narcissus weeps a thousand years For an aesthete to cherish its inimitable beauty Miles from being an aesthete, my illegitimate father was only too happy to serve a challenge and perhaps prove his own worth. Patrons love flaunting their virility in a kotha where only a few get the opportunity of intimacy with a tawaif. It is unlike a brothel, where they can pay and have a limitless choice of sex workers to pick from. A kotha is for entertainment. And to tawaifs, sex work is not entertaining. It is never part of their performance. Their mujra of song and dance is conducted in a mehfil, a gathering of several patrons. The patrons go back home to their wife and children, after kite-flying crisp currency notes for the tawaif's special attention – where they get a thenga, a wiggly thumb, for nothing in return. The tawaif chooses a patron she likes. Flashing money will not get her attention – as they say, tawaifs see more money falling at their feet each night than they see morals in the eyes of men truly valuing them. The lucky patron she picks can be her only one for as long as she wishes him to be – for a night, a week, months, years or even a lifetime, in some cases. Who am I fooling? No patron returns the loyalty as favourably. The tawaif can choose to have a child or not with her favoured patron. She is fortunate if that child is a girl, who can carry forward her name in the trade. But what about a boy? Turn him into a tabalchi, a tabla player, or any other musician—a baajawala or a sarangiwala. What use would such a child be in the world, my mother thought, if the foetus could not have its father's name in the likely event that its mother died in childbirth? Was there a more cursed life than to be born an orphan? She knew perfectly well how difficult it would be for me. She had seen a worse fate – as a child, she had been used to pay off a debt to a Bedia family, dressed as a child bride, raped by her husband and then sold to a kotha. When a family offered no guarantees, could one be better off without it? No mother wants to give birth to an orphan. The Caesarean was a success. Dr Bohra dangled me by an ankle after cutting the bloody umbilical cord of uncertainty and said to my mother, Dekho Rekha, ladka hua hai! See, Rekha, you have a boy! My mother looked at me and fainted. She could not believe I was stubbornly alive. Like her. She had no energy left in her to remain conscious. She had prayed for a girl. Maybe the disappointment made her collapse. I was immediately put into an incubator. When she woke up after two days, she asked the daiyya, midwife Pushpa, Mera bachcha kahaan hai? Where is my child? Pushpa told her that I, a premature baby, was weak and had been kept under watch. A week passed. I was not shown to my mother. She panicked. She had a vision in her dream. The Sufi saint of Ajmer, Khwaja Moinuddin Chisti, and Goddess Kali instructed her to take her child away, or Yamraj, the God of Death, would do so. Yep, that sounds like the dance-off of the thunder-clapping gods. Apparently, according to my mother, the morning I was born, there was a violent hurricane in Calcutta. Bahut badaa toofan aaya tha, she said with astounded eyes. As it so happens in every thunder and lightning oral story, which sounds as hokey as a Hindi-film flashback. Achanak se kaale badal hatey aur tu subah ki pehli kiran jaise nikla. You shot out like the first ray of dawn as the sun emerged from the dark clouds. Her ignoble thoughts may have been those nebulous clouds. Her sentiments, however, sweeten the comical. Mother fought with the hospital staff, signed a patient's risk form and dashed out of the compound, hailing a taxi to take me home. She was an emotional heroine on the run from her well-wishers. The hospital staff was almost certain she was going to kill her baby. Her mother, Gullo, the tobacco-chewing hard nut of a woman who carried a sarota, a nutcracker, in her ghagra, which doubled as a self-defence weapon, was waiting for her at the kotha. The staff had informed Gullo that Rekha would recover soon, but that the child's future was uncertain. Rekha would now have to dodge and survive the weaponised sarota flying through the kotha doors, risking even the newborn. She pressed her infant tightly to her chest. Both of us breathless. A Tawaif Smothers Her Newborn with Love. Killer headline in The Telegraph. I can rewrite my beginning as my end. As thrilling as all of this sounds, I would have preferred to remain incubated in the hospital. She acted rashly in blind faith – no, actually, blinded by faith. I could have died. She almost killed me. Twice. But she gave me life instead. Twice as much. Hers and mine. Our resilient lives. How did she intuit? Probably grasped from her own early experiences when life pushed her off the cliff. She found the courage and the derring-do to endure its twists and turns, like a fledgling songbird falling from its nest learns to soar before it touches the ground. No training, no practice, just killer instinct.
Hans India
3 hours ago
- Hans India
Classes in Sanatana Dharma begins
Ongole: The Chinmaya Mission and Srigiri Srivenkateswara Swamy Devasthanam have launched Chinmaya Bala Vihar training classes aimed at imparting Sanatana Dharma values to children at Srigiri Gokshetram here on Sunday. The Sunday classes focus on developing cultural knowledge, moral values, and Indian identity among young participants. During the inauguration ceremony, Chinmaya Mission organiser Swamiji Satyatmananda praised Dr Aluru Srinivasa Charan Rajiv for initiating the programme, emphasising that these classes would foster a positive outlook, discipline, and patriotism in students. Executive Trustee CV Ramakrishna Rao discussed the temple's construction and pledged necessary supplies for training programmes. Board Chairperson Aluru Jhansi Rani expressed satisfaction with the partnership, while Brahmachari Harish Chaitanya outlined curriculum plans, including Bhagavad Gita teachings and competitive exam preparation. The organisers announced that the programme aims to enhance students' communication skills under trustee supervision. The inaugural session featured students reciting Gita verses, with organisational support from Vedic scholar P Bhanu Prakasha Sharma and chief priest Pradhyumna Kumar. Students, parents, and teachers attended the event, where organisers distributed Prasadam from Sri Venkateswara Swamy to all participants, marking the successful launch of this educational initiative.
