Life of Pi - chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE
WRITER’S NOTE
I am a writer from Canada. I went to India to write a story. I wrote for many months, but in the end, the story did not work. Before I went back home, I decided to explore the south of India I arrived in Pondicherry, on the southeast coast.
I was at the Indian Coffee House, on Nehru Street, when an old man started talking to me. I told him I was a writer.
“I know a story that will make you believe in God,” he said. I ordered two more coffees. “Where does this story take place?” I asked.
“It starts right here in Pondicherry – at the zoo. It ends in your country. But you must talk to Pi Patel,” he said. “It’s his story.”
“Where can I find Mr Patel?” I asked.
“In Canada.”
I went home to Canada. I searched through nine pages of Patels in the phone book, and then I found him – Mr Pi Patel. He agreed to meet me. We met often as he told me his story.
Pi Patel lives in Toronto. He studied zoology and religion at university. His hair is a bit grey now, although he is only forty. He cooks wonderful meals for me in his kitchen. He has enough food in the cupboards to last his whole life.
Pi’s house is a temple inside. In fact, it is many temples. Ganesha, the Hindu God with an elephant head, is in the hall. The Virgin Mary, mother of Jesus Christ, is in the living room. On a table in the office is a book covered by a cloth. The book is the Qur’an, the holy book of Islam.
Pi is married. He and his wife have a son, a daughter, a dog and a cat. So this story has a happy ending.
Sometimes Pi gets upset when he’s telling me his story. After all these years, he still thinks about Richard Parker every day. This is Pi Patel’s story.