TADOBA ANDHARI TIGER RESERVE

The Story Unfolds

 

There are unseen forces at play.

 

As you sit in the open-top gypsy and crane your neck in different directions hoping to catch some glimpse of activity, it barely even occurs to you that you are being watched. Intently. By langurs from the tree-tops, by the deer crossing the dirt road, by the gaur chomping on dried grass, by the hawks and eagles soaring overhead, by the beasts of the jungle in the thicket.

 

You go deeper into the forest. You are greeted by silence and sound all at once. Not noise, sound. Your ears, which are accustomed to the constant ceaseless onslaught of noises in the city, feel the sudden silence, before you start picking up on nature's harmonies. Soft, soothing melodies from the local inhabitants. You start identifying which sounds are made by birds, which are made by deer, which are made by langurs. Each bird has a different call, a different tune which fills the air.

 

You start relaxing, soaking in the beauty. The rich landscape - nature, allowed to grow wild for the most part. Overhanging, tangled masses of deciduous trees. A gradient of colours - from vibrant greens after a fresh bout of rain, to an arid grassland yellow, to a flaming orange-red from the flowering palash trees - the 'flame of the forest'.

 

You can breathe, finally. Your nose finds off-season petrichor a welcome change from the perpetual dust. You feel your lungs expand as you inhale the fresh air. The gentle breeze uplifts you.

 

You find yourself at ease. Muscles relaxing. You find yourself at home, amidst nature. Amidst the majestic animals.

 

A deer barks, a boar grunts, langurs shriek. Branches rustle. You are in awe of the sheer power and force of the forest. An untamed wilderness comes to life. The air charged with a crackling energy. A flash of orange, white, and black. You see it right there - a mere stone's throw away. Your mind is alert, excited. You witness the Bengal tiger in all its majestic glory. Its stride elegant and graceful; muscles rippling as it takes one purposeful step after another. A smattering of unhealed, scarring wounds from hunts adorning its glossy fur coat. It looks you in the eye, a steady penetrating gaze. You can't look away. You are mesmerized. Held in place. It doesn't break eye contact until the very end.

 

It walks past, into the grass just beyond. The moment has passed. But you keep looking, trailing it with your eyes. Desperately hoping to catch another glimpse. Desperately hoping that your stars align and will the unseen forces into granting you just one more audience with the royal animal.