In the Jungle

The King  Panther's moon A glassy domain Habitat Strength of the reserve Blue skies always  Examining his realm Stalking Golden sunrise  The bather and the 'bathee' Camouflage Sal delight Stretch Silhouette  Gentleness is not defined by size  Grace The protector Tiger tree Sunset And we can smell the rain Rain dance  Signs Spot on The wait  The result

Tracking is an art. Tiger tracking, is the most patient form of art. It draws sweat, considerbale amount of flies, sunburn, hunger and frustration. But when you spot the striped divinity, you know it was all worth it and for the drivers and guides of a reserve it is an everyday affair. It all usually starts early in the morning in any tiger reserve (which has safaris of course), with the driver and guides feverishly scouring the forest floor for pug marks, scat or even flattened Earth (indicating a tiger resting spot) to understand where they should begin the process of tracking le tigris. "Pugmark raat ka hai, male chala gaya area se" is what our guide opens the tour with. Alarm calls are of course the sure giveaways but if it's a chital (spotted deer) that is  responsible for the alarm call, you can't be too sure that it is indicative of cat movement. "Buddhu banate hain yeh chital" spits a driver in disgust while another claims that chital call even w...

The Big Bam in his prime I first heard of a tiger named Bamera in the summer of 2010, while we were doing a survey in the buffer villages of Bandhavgarh Tiger Reserve. At the time, he had gained notoreity for lifting cattle and had planted a certain degree of fear in the mind of the villagers. "Bahut bada hai sahab, itna bada tiger humne aaj tak nahi dekha" spluttered a villager, a resident of the same village where Bamera got his name from. Located in a beautiful region known as Panpatha, with a huge dam and an ever reaching green landscape, Bamera was as beautiful a tiger and as extravagant as his namesake village.  Very quickly, Bamera made an entry into Bandhavgarh as it's dominant male, overthrowing his ageing father - B2. Slated to be the biggest tiger Bandhavgarh had seen for a few years, Bamera coaxed everyones imagination into becoming a stuff of legends among the drivers and guides of the park. "Aree, gadi ke bonnet jitna bada hai" some claimed...

Tears of the 'Mangge' Hari, a lively boy of 11, lived with his parents in the sleepy fishing village of Kumbarjua in Goa. Forever active, he was always landing in trouble for his butter fingered ways. Unable to keep in check his awkward hands and legs, he preferred spending time in the mangrove forests of Kumbarjua. Here he could walk barefoot in the silt, squishing through the maze of breathing roots and nothing would snap or crash or fall. However, here in the quiet waters of the Kumbarjua canal also lived ‘Mangge’, the freshwater crocodile that the villagers feared, for he had dagger like teeth, a body covered with armour and was notorious for stealing the village fish after which he was said to show false remorse by crying and shedding tears while he contentedly fed on his prey. The villagers felt that the Mangge only pretended to cry and was actually very happy about stealing. They thought he was a hypocrite. “Don’t venture too close to the canal,” Hari’s...

The beautiful Dandeli landscape  “The gladdest moment in human life, methinks, is a departure into unknown lands.” – Sir Richard Burton Beautifully put. A foray into unknown lands is always special; however, for me, a foray into the deep wilderness of those unknown lands is what makes it truly worthwhile. An impromptu plan with decisions made as quickly as three phone calls and five e-mails (on the same day mind you; for someone as indecisive as me that is quite an achievement!) we headed into the deliciously dense jungles of Karnataka.  With limited knowledge of the flora and fauna of these havens of Southern India, all we knew was that these forests housed one of the most elusive of beasts, the shadow of the forest, the phantom of the teak plantations, the magnificent Bagheera, the Indian Black Panther. Our first stop was Dandeli, a forest full of Teak, Red Sanders, Rosewood, Jamun, Nandi etc. It fully lives up to its reputation of being a magnificent fores...

Goa is Swaying palms, white sands and sparkling waters, this is not how I describe it, and is possibly a stereotype, but this is how Lonely Planet describes it and probably so do all the people who visit this beautiful state, and to prove this, I recall a conversation I had with a lady who was waiting to board the bus to Goa with me. Me: So are you going to Goa, Lady: yes Me: For a holiday? Lady: why else would one go to Goa? Me: for work Lady: yeah, ok (with an air of complete disbelief) So yes, little does one associate with Goa except maybe to un wind and they can’t really be blamed for before I was associated with the Wild Otters project, I myself thought of Goa as the description given above.   But fortunately for me, my association with the project has introduced me to the other side, the wild side, the otter side of this Western Ghats landscape. This then, is one such trip down the “otter side”– It had been one hell of an arduous journey. The bus had already t...

Pic 1: the tiger’s revival has been possible owing solely to the dedication of the Forest Department “When you live for a strong purpose, then hard work isn’t an option, it’s a necessity”-Steve Pavlina I couldn’t agree more with Steve Pavlina. And though, many would agree with the above mentioned quote, the true value of it, is understood, not only by all those present at Panna but is played out by them every minute, of every day too. Panna Tiger Reserve was declared officially “tiger less” in the year 2009. The world went into shock with the disappearance of one of the most charismatic cats from an important tiger reserve, with articles, reports, headlines and even dinner table conversations revolving around Panna’s debacle. As the news spread, everyone raised questions of “Why?” “How?” and “When.” but the only question being raised and addressed by the most important component of this story – the Forest Department of this reserve was – “How? not how it happen...