Big Cat Trail--The Charm of Corbett

Corbett was our final halt, and definitely a fitting end to this year's Big Cat Trail.

Five o' clock in the morning saw us at the small, quaint station of Ramnagar.  We had boarded our train the previous night from Delhi. The short, comfortable ride was a nice experience.

Our jeep awaited us at the station and soon we were off-- headed towards Dhikala, where we had managed to get a night's stay. Getting bookings at Dhikala had proved to be an overwhelming and frustrating task accomplished only through Sumeet's perseverance, patience, and I guess, sheer will. Having stayed there, I can only say that I am immensely thankful we got to stay at Dhikala. Without Dhikala, the Corbett experience would have been very different. Disappointing perhaps... Dhikala turned it into a dream. Situated about 60 km inside from the gate, any visit to Corbett would be incomplete without a stay at the Dhikala Lodge.

The drive to Dhikala from the gate took about 2 hours...and that was our first taste of the forest. Corbett is completely unlike any forest we had visited so far. Nestled below the mountain ranges, it is cross-crossed with mountain rivers flowing over rocky beds. These are breathtakingly beautiful, even in the height of summer when the rivers had mostly run dry. This exposed the underlying beds of multi-colored stones weathered and smoothened by the years of rain, sun and shine. The sun's rays falling on these made them glisten like semi-precious jewels, of intriguing shapes and sizes...I was completely enamored. They varied in shades from purple to pink, grey to ochre. I particularly loved the violet ones with a hint of white on them...

On our way we stopped at the Crocodile Point-- a spot above a river from where one can spot crocodiles... We were lucky to catch our first glimpse of one resting on the bank...looking like a log of wood to a large extent. As we went in, I was torn between marveling at the beauty of the forest and looking out for any wildlife that may cross our path. Corbett is also well-known for it's bird life, and this added to my sense of anticipation. We saw a group of four Oriental Hornbills fly overhead--they caught us by surprise and unfortunately, we weren't prepared with our cameras.

In spite of it being Mid-May, this forest still retained its foliage and greenness. I could only try to imagine how dense it would be post monsoon. No wonder everyone had said that spotting the big cat in Corbett is extremely difficult. 

We reached Dhikala around  10 am and headed straight for a sumptuous breakfast. We had the rest of the morning to laze about till our afternoon safari at 4.00 pm. I meandered around the lodge area which is pretty large. It overlooks an enchanting river-bed which was completely dry and formed a sand bank at this time of the year. I was to find out later how beautiful it looked in the moonlight, the whole sandscape turning into a shimmering bed on which the trees cast their huge, dark shadows. It requires a much more proficient writer than I am to capture that beauty in words. All I can say is I could have happily sat there gazing into the night watching the play of moonlight on the sand.

The first safari into Corbett was much awaited by all of us. As our jeep rolled out of the Dhikala gate into the forest, I found myself trying to absorb the feel of the forest with all my senses. Corbett, I realized, had a very distinctive scent made up of dry woods, crushed leaves and the foliage around us. Maybe, other forests do too, but it was in Corbett that I became acutely conscious of this. It was heavenly, almost intoxicating. As we wound our way through, looking to spot bird or mammal, I was constantly pulled into this world of heady fragrance.

Corbett, we found, is also known for its herd of wild elephants which apparently are prone to charge safari jeeps. Our driver and guide were both on high alert for these animals and regaled us with tales of how they had been caught between a charging elephant in the front and a herd of them at the back. Anyhow, the stories failed to alarm us and we were eager to see a herd. And we did! A huge herd was crossing the meadows when we reached the spot affording us a good view. Later we saw a huge Tusker heading into the forest, pausing now and then to shower himself with sand. It was an impressive sight.

That night was an experience I will not forget soon. Around 3 in the night, I woke up to flashes of blinding lightning and an incessant sound of thunder. Rain was falling in sheets...it was an awe-inspiring sight. I stood at the window which very fortunately overlooked the sand bank. The zig-zagging, near blinding flashes would light up the entire scene for long seconds to be followed by ominously loud crashes of thunder. In those seconds of lightning, everything was eerily illuminated-- the sand bank gleamed, the trees looking ghostly in that white light, while the rain lashed down. This high-drama of nature continued for the next two hours and then stopped as abruptly as it had begun. I stepped out around 5.15 am and was greeted by a sparkling clean world, strewn with fallen branches, torn and crushed leaves, and a strange silence. After the night's rampage, the birds were still to start their morning chirping...

We went for our morning safari a little tentatively, our guide warning us that there may not be much to see after such a night. Soon after, belying his words and living up to its reputation for being unpredictable and fickle, nature decided we should have our first glimpse of the big cat in Corbett. She had been sitting on the side of the road down which our jeep traversed. We had missed her because of the dense foliage and had gone ahead. Just then, our guide caught a glimpse and urgently asked our driver to reverse. This caused us to inadvertently block her path and she went inside the undergrowth. We waited not really knowing whether she would make an appearance again. However, her mission of crossing the road was evidently uppermost in her mind. A few seconds later she sprang out--that is all I can say--on to the road, mock-growled at us perhaps for causing her that slight delay, and vanished into the other side with a leap. It was all over within seconds. I think I had stopped breathing and taking a picture had not remotely occurred to me. She was gorgeous...a true Royal Bengal Tigress.

We continued with our safari, pausing to see the avifauna life. We did not see anymore of the big cats in Dhikala but we were not disappointed. Later in the day, we went over to Bijrani, which is much closer to Ramnagar station and hence, gets crowded. It doesn't match up to the Dhikala experience. Nevertheless, the safaris into the forest are always beautiful. This zone is not as replete with birds and other mammals as the Dhikala one but we did see the big cat.

What bothered me were the kind of tourist who came in. They seem to be coming with something like a circus show in mind. Noisy, insensitive to wildlife, and raucous, they detracted from the environment. The forest guides did not seem well-equipped to control tourist behavior. I do think there needs to be an educational program put in place that tell tourists prior to entering the forest, how to behave, what are unacceptable behaviors and the penalties for the same, what to expect, and what wildlife means. And this should be a mandatory part of the safaris. This would also be a good way to raise awareness about wildlife and their status in general.

This is becoming an endless post, and I have not even touched upon the different birds we saw from the red-collared doves to the dollar birds and emerald doves. I think I should wind-up now. Corbett should be on all wildlife lovers list of must-visit forests. It offers one of those rich, unique experiences that is difficult to forget. I am waiting to go back again...

Big Cat Trail--Beautiful Bandhavgarh

For some reason, this has been a post very long in coming...but finally, I have put down my thoughts.

Situated close to In Madhya Pradesh, this was our next destination--our penultimate halt in the Trail. We boarded our train from Jaipur for Umaria, a tiny station probably known for it's proximity to Bandhavgarh. Our pick-up awaited us, and we drove down to the White Tiger Forest Lodge about 30 km from the station. The short ride was a pleasant one. The road was exceptionally well-maintained, and soon we were at our destination. We had the rest of the day to freshen up and rest till the time of our afternoon safari.

I had heard that tiger spotting in Bandhavgarh is almost a given because of the sheer density. However, our first ride into the park belied this hearsay. The forest is beautiful, like all forests are; however, it lacked a bit of Ranthambore's elegance and mystique.  Anyhow, that did not deter me from enjoying the ride. What perplexed me however was the route system that decreed not only following a specific route (which is completely understandable and should be done to avoid overcrowding of certain sections), but also completing it. This meant, more often than not, that we were driving to complete the route within the stipulated safari hours, hardly stopping to enjoy the wildlife. We also came across forest officials blatantly disregarding any such rule and using forest vehicles to take friends and relatives on tours. This did put us off.

Anyhow, back to the experience. Our first tiger sighting at Bandhavgarh was of the Bokha male and his cubs. This shy tiger was just coming out after having had his drink of water and was climbing up the slope of a small embankment when our jeep arrived at the spot. He is beautiful and as he paused to glance around, I marveled at the grace and strength. He walked up the slope and vanished into the undergrowth. At this point, our safari guide said that we could take an elephant ride inside to see if we could spot him resting.

Agreeing with alacrity, we mounted our elephant and went in. Sure enough, he was resting under the shade of a tree, and this afforded us ample opportunities to take some close-ups. Just as I was gazing my fill, we heard some commotion and our mahout said, "tiger!" This is a magic word, and we looked up from Bokha. Sure enough, there was a tiger emerging from the forest. He passed very close to our elephant. We were informed that this was one of Bokha's cubs. Happy fortune was with us, and soon the two other cubs soon followed. Full grown in size, they nevertheless stayed together not having yet acquired the hunting skills needed to survive alone.

I was overjoyed when we saw the legendary Kankatti the next day. She was sitting half submerged in a pool of water hidden by thick undergrowth, shrubs and foliage. Her face had a certain sinister beauty-- perhaps because of her sightless eye. The green leaves partially blocking her face from view added to the mystery. Her good eye glanced at us, sharp and bright. She is a beauty with an attitude.

When we left Bandhavgarh, I knew I wanted to come back. To see more of the forest, see Kankatti and Bokha and the new male. I just hope and pray that they and the rest of our existing wildlife stay safe. I hope that with rising awareness, we will be able to control poaching, restrict encroachment on wildlife space and grant them the security and peace they need to exist, to survive. We want our tigers to roam our forests with pride and in safety. We don't want to see them on our long list of extinct aimals.

Big Cat Trail: Amazing Gir

Sumeet and I headed toward Gir in Junagadh after our Kanha trip. The contrast between the two forests couldn't have been more shocking, and I am not referring to the fauna here. Let me explain a bit.

I have experienced Kanha in November, when it is still lush from the monsoon showers. The subsequent dry months hadn't yet been able to banish the green. In comparison, Kanha in May seemed incredibly dry to me. Most of the lush, green foliage was replaced by reddish-brown leaves; nevertheless, since the deciduous sal forest is liberally interspersed with evergreens, the forest still retained a semblance of greenness. After this, Gir came as a shock.

For miles--as far as the eyes could see--we saw nothing but stretches of leafless, brown trees--rather their skeletons to be more accurate. It didn't seem possible that this barren, stark landscape could also be a thick, foliage covered forest during other seasons. Interspersed with these skeletal trees were brambles and thorny bushes. The earth was varying shades of brown--occasionally turning to a brighter yellow here and there. The dominant color of the landscape was brown. Miles of it. This kind of bone-dryness must be seen to be believed. It has a beauty all its own; the very starkness lending it an air of mystery.


Just as I was trying to accustom myself to this first sight of Gir, a peacock flew by and perched on a nearby tree trunk. The contrast couldn't have been greater. The colorless and barren background enhanced the hues and shades of the living beings manifold--bringing everything into sharp focus. The peacock shone a brilliant blue--a perfect photograph moment. I settled down for the forest to reveal its surprises.

The biggest surprise that Gir had in store for me were the trackers. While I had read a bit about them, I was completely unprepared for what I eventually saw. The trackers play a unique role in the Gir ecosystem. They keep track of the lions by walking or cycling around the forest armed with nothing more than a simple stick. Their courage will put any self-proclaimed hunter to shame. Their job is to keep a lookout for any lion who might be ill or injured; their constant patrolling also keeps miscreants at bay. I saw them stand barely five feet away from a full-grown lion, totally unperturbed. I don't think they thought of it as a display of bravery; for them it was just a part of their daily routine.

The trackers also communicate the location of lions to the guides making it easier for wildlife enthusiasts to watch these beautiful animals in their natural surroundings. Bali, our guide, had promised us that he would show us lions till we wanted to see no more. However, not wanting to see anymore being an impossibility for an animal lover, I must say that we saw lions to our hearts' content. 28 of them...

Lions are social animals unlike tigers who are solitary and secretive. This characteristic makes lions not only easier to spot but also easier to photograph. One can be within 6 feet of a lion without him or her making any move to go away. We saw prides of lions sitting, basking in the sun, drinking water or just sleeping. I was very surprised when we saw a lioness with cubs peacefully sleeping--occasionally raising her head to see if everything was fine. Not worried at all. The most memorable sighting was that of a lioness in the act of stalking and hunting a sambar deer. She was immensely graceful in the fluidity of her movements. I was spellbound. It was National Geographic in the real world. The only spoiler was a horde of tourists who seemed incapable of distinguishing between wildlife and a circus show. I fervently hope that the forest department will enforce stricter measures to bring such tourists under control by educating them and vesting the guides with the authority to drive such tourists out of the precincts of the forest should they fail to adhere to the rules.
 

It must also be remembered that Gir lions are perhaps unique in their acceptance of human beings. Having lived with and among the Maldharis and Sidhi tribes, these animals are much more attuned to human beings than one would normally expect.

Apart from lions, Gir's prime attraction, it is also a bird-lovers haven. We were soon to find this out. In complete contrast to the stark summer landscape that makes up the major part Gir, there is a lush and verdant patch in the heart of the forest. This corner of the forest is seldom frequented by folks who have primarily come to see lions. However, for bird-lovers like us, this proved to be a treasure trove. I had never seen so many paradise fly- catchers fly around, flitting from branch to branch, tantalizing and luring us with glimpses till we gave in and decided to wait at that spot.

And not only this spot. Our drives around the forest revealed various species of avifauna that absolutely delighted me.




Gir is an entirely different exeprience. While lion spotting may lack the mystery and unpredictability of seeing tigers, it is unbelievably amazing to see lions in their natural habitat. Gir brought back memories of Elsa  and Christian and seemed to proclaim the essential ties that exist between animals and humans.


The photos from the trip are here and here.

Big Cat Trail--Unforgettable Kanha

I am still thinking about Kanha. It will probably always be my favorite forest. I saw my first tiger there in the wild last November—close up, an unforgettable experience.  That’s when I told myself that I would come back again. Just like a first love always remains special, Kanha will always be very close to my heart. This was my second trip to Kanha. We are on our way to Gir now, and I am absolutely excited by the prospect of seeing the Asiatic lions, maybe black bucks and anything else the forest has in store for us. 

Initially, I thought of writing a blow-by-blow account of the safaris and then changed my mind. This post is my impression of Kanha—the feelings it evoked and the experience it offered. Occasionally it may seem like a Stream of Consciousness flow, but I have left it as it is making not attempt to edit the words. It is a very personal account of my interaction with this forest. I am writing this as I sit in the train, heading towards Gir.

I never cease to be amazed by the beauty of the forest…it’s beautiful at dawn when the moon is still visible, the sky turning a pale pink very gradually, the last, fading stars twinkling here and there, the forest waking up. The trees are silhouetted against this backdrop. This always reminded me of one of my childhood favorites, “When the sun shines in the morning and the night is on the run, it’s a new day, it’s a new day, and I will fly up to the sun…”

The sound of the forest waking up is indescribable. It’s a symphony of bird calls, interspersed with the calls of animals waking up to the dawn. Perfectly orchestrated. There are no jarring notes; nothing seems out of place. Everything just fits in, perfectly made for each other. We would start our morning safari at 5:30 a.m. And the wait between waking up and actually going on the safari always seemed interminable to me. This is the time when the nocturnal animals are still around and the diurnal ones beginning their day. 

We would leap onto the safari jeep as soon as it arrived. Once in the forest, I found myself straining my eyes and all my senses to catch a glimpse of a sign of life. Kanha did not disappoint me. I don’t have the skills or the power of words to describe the sheer beauty and the feeling of awe I experienced every time I caught a glimpse of an animal or a bird in its natural habitat—just where it is meant to be. I waited for these surprises with breathless anticipation as we drove through the forest, my eyes scanning and scouring the foliage for any sign of life. While we drove around following tiger pug marks, trying to read the tiger or the tigresses’ mind, following the routes they take with the hope of seeing this majestic animal, the forest revealed its other treasures in unexpected ways. Suddenly, a rustling sound here would draw our attention to a herd of sambars or a wild boar, a crack of twigs there would reveal a herd of bison feasting on the tender green shoots that popped up among the bone dry leaves in the height of summer.  Its benign, slightly dumb look always made me smile. A couple of racket tailed  drongos would swoop and tantalize us with a glimpse before flying away belying all our efforts to take photos. One thing I learned—no amount of preparedness can meet the surprises a forest has in store. It is just so much better to surrender to the forest, soak in the experience, and be grateful for those moments when it pauses long enough for us to take those photos we want in the hope of capturing some of the memories.   

Within an hour of our cruise into the forest, the sun would be high up in the sky--scorching, beating down. The pale pink and cool blue dawn turned into a sunny, scorching day. But who cared! It was still beautiful—a different kind of beauty—bolder, harsher, starker.  Everything now came into sharper focus. I loved the way the sunlight filtering in through the sal trees cast lovely shadows on the yellow-orange, sandy roads.  The road seemed to resemble the striped pattern of a tiger’s skin. The forest makes you forget the heat, the discomforts, the amenities we take for granted in our daily lives. As the sun rose, an uncanny calm would descend on the forest. Dawn’s chattering and chirping would start to die down. The forest seemed to be preparing for its siesta. A few deer would stand in the shade munching on the green grass, small sambar herds could be spotted around the water holes quenching their thirst, enjoying the coolness of the shade. But life seemed to visibly slow down. 

On such a day, as we drove around, hot on the tiger’s trail, she showed herself to us.  We had been following alarm calls of the deer and had arrived at a spot where Javed (our driver and, to me, an integral part of my Kanha experience) and our guide felt the probability of seeing the tiger was the highest.  As Javed parked our jeep, we prepared to wait. Collar-wali as she is called because of the radio-collar round her neck walked out of the forest. We were blessed to be the Gypsy she walked directly in front of. Totally oblivious to the cavalcade of jeeps and the human life that thronged to see her, she walked out with an elegance, nonchalance and grace that defy all descriptions. Her glossy fur shone golden-orange in the sunlight, the muscles rippled as she walked without hurrying, casting not a glance at anybody, focused on her mission. Her face was turned toward us, and I like to imagine that she was looking directly at us. I automatically felt my camera clicking away, the hair on my skin rising, almost forgetting to breathe. She sauntered across and vanished into the foliage on the other side of the road, leaving us feeling replete and yet wanting more. I know I will never be tired of the sight of this majestic and magnificent animal. 

Almost too soon it always seemed to me, it would be time for us to leave the forest. We had to be out by 10:30 a.m. and any inadvertent delay could cause the driver to be suspended for a week. As we hurried towards the gate, I found myself calculating the time left for the evening safari to start. This inevitably happened every day. I wish there was some way to stay in the forest till the evening safari. I wouldn’t mind sitting on a machan for the rest of the day just taking in the ambience. It is a strange thrill to know that even when we can’t see a single sign of visible life, it is there all around us—pulsating and vibrant. 

This time we visited all the three zones in the forest—Kanha, Mukki and Sarhi. At Sarhi zone, we caught our first glimpse of the chausingha and the barking deer. Both extremely shy and nervous animals, I count myself fortunate to have seen them so clearly. The chausingha did not pause long enough for us to take photos but the barking deer graced us with quite a few poses. The prominent V-shaped mark on her forehead was easy to see as she stood facing us—startled but not frightened enough to run away. 

Sarhi zone is the least tourist-visited zone in Kanha because it is not known for frequent sightings of the big cat. For this very reason, touring this zone was a pleasure. Gangaram, the guide we had for this safari, seemed to possess telescopic vision and spotted signs of life where we saw only leaves, brambles and branches. His genius for spotting brought the zone alive for us and suddenly, a rather quiet zone seemed to be teeming with life. We saw some rare birds here including the scarlet minivet. My only regret is that my lens did not have the range required to shoot birds at such distance. 

The day would end as spectacularly as it had it begun, the sunset no less picturesque than the sunrise. 

I am still trying to pen down my impressions of the other forests. Here are some of my photos from the Kanha tour.

Take a look at Sumeet’s album for some great shots. 

Next post coming in a few days: Amazing Gir.

On the Tiger's Trail...

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright, In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry? ~ William Blake

We read this poem in school where our teachers tried to explain the significance to the best of her/his ability. And my mind would conjure up visions of a tiger in a zoo, and the essence of the poem was lost to me.

But now I know that I never understood the essence of the poem, never really visualized the power, the strength, and the grace of a tiger as it truly is till the 27th of November. Yes, I can be that precise because I know the exact moment when the poem hummed through my mind.

On the tiger's trail

It was the morning of 27th November, a little more than a week ago to be precise. A cold, frosty morning in the jungles of Kanha in MP, India. We (my friend and co-blogger Sumeet Moghe and I) waited for our safari jeep to arrive. It was still impenetrably dark outside, the trees loomed like huge black shadows, weirdly shaped, mysterious. The moonlight glinted down casting strange, hallucinatory shapes on the ground, tricking my eyes. We stood quietly listening to the jungle sounds--a music offered for free if one cares to listen. 


Very soon our safari jeep arrived and we were off. The chilling wind stung our faces, bringing tears to the eyes. I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my jacket in the faint hope of keeping them warm. We entered the jungle premises and our driver and guide in one accord decided on a route to follow through the dense jungle. Their experience endowed them with an instinct that we could not fathom. We had barely gone a kilometer when our guide pointed out the pug marks of a male tiger on the ground--still fresh and clear on the frosty ground. A thrill of expectation shivered down my spine. Driving cautiously, we followed the pug marks. The dense jungle of sal and bamboo trees belies any effort to see through it. The brambles and bushes that lie between them are perfect cover for the wildlife there. Nature's patterns are flawless till we humans decide to mess with them. 

We must have covered almost 15 kilometers across the rugged terrain of the Kanha, deep into the heart of the jungle when the pug marks vanished into the jungle. "He must be somewhere close by," whispered our guide. We tried to look through the impenetrable barriers of the thick foliage, unable to see anything, the tall grasses a fitting camouflage for the tiger. Just then, a roar very close to where we stood galvanized us into action. Out came the cameras, the chill was forgotten. "He'll come out somewhere here," was our guide's pronouncement. 


Sure enough, the king of beasts, the largest cat of the jungle emerged, barely ten feet away from where we stood. I know I almost forgot to breathe. To see this magnificent animal in his natural surroundings--proud, graceful, charismatic--was a miracle. This is one experience I know for certain I will carry with me till I die. 

He walked towards us--unconcerned and imperious. Even as I tried to keep my camera focused on him (and this was tough as the instinct to just gaze in awe was uppermost), I kept wondering at the levels of depravity and ignorance that could lead to the killing of this beautiful beast. All because some rich, misguided individuals with money to spare think a dead tiger's skin on the floor of their home symbolize status. And that is not all. Every conceivable part of a tiger from the bones to the penis are used to make traditional Chinese medicines.

Demand in China poses the greatest threat to tigers in the wild and organised crime runs the illicit trade in the world's largest felines, according to international experts," states a report from the Tiger Summit.

To be very honest, although I had been aware of the outcry against tiger poaching, and like to think of myself as someone who cares deeply about the fate of animals on our planet, I had been just a passive, armchair lover of animals. Quite useless. 

Till I saw this magnificent beast face to face. 


For the past one week I have not been able to get the image of his imperious walk out of my mind but it soon gets eclipsed by gruesome ones of trapped or poisoned tigers. These have been haunting me enough to make me write this post. And as I write, I realize that this immensely powerful beast can't speak for itself. It is up to us to do the talking, to raise our voices and make enough noise that will force some folks out there to take action. Our individual voices may not be loud enough but collectively, we can create a roar.


And finally, the following perfect moment of serendipity spurred me to action, made me feel ashamed about my inertia. I heard this talk by Shekhar Dattatri where he says, "When I was 10 years old, my life changed when I read this book by Gerald Durrell, My Adventures in the Forest"...I could only wonder at the beauty of serendipity. This is the same book I read at the same age that fueled my passion for animals and their right to share this planet with us. Thank you Shekhar for reminding me of this once again.


If you feel strongly about saving our tigers, our forests and our ecology do share the post, write your own, tweet--anything that will help to protect and preserve the tigers. A little bit of our time is all they need. And as Shekha Dattatri says, 2,400 years ago people knew this intrinsic synergy between human life, the forest and the tiger. The Mahabharat cites it. If we let our tigers go, so will our forests and eventually us. 


Here are the links to some videos that taught me a lot about tigers. 

The Truth About Tigers - Part 1 - a film by Shekar Dattatri

The Truth about Tigers - Part 2 - a film by Shekar Dattatri

The Truth about Tigers - Part 3 - a film by Shekar Dattatri

Off the Record - Shekar Dattatri -WILD-LIFE & CONSERVATION FILM-MAKER - EPI 27 - 3(3) -

I am visiting the following two tiger reserves in the coming two weeks: Nagarhole and Bandipur. Even if I don't encounter a tiger, I am still keen to explore and understand their natural habitats better.