Three visits to the famed land of Carpet Saab (Jim Corbett used to be fondly called by this name by Kumaoni people) – Corbett National Park, three safaris to the land of the famed shere khan of the Jungle Book – Kanha National Park, one safari each to Sariska national park and Ranthambore Tiger Reserve but the golden stripes remained ever elusive to my eyes. These visits had the right mix of all the ingredients – parks with high density of tiger population (barring the Sariska of course), a well chosen zone after thorough internet and peer research, a seemingly good weather for sighting, pleasant and promising guide(s), a track record of recent sightings on a day after day basis, langur and other alarm calls at the awaited locations, kakar barking at every turn in the dirt track along the safari; but the flame of the jungle never showed up. Every visit would start with the guide belting out stories of sightings on a daily basis in the zone and of how the tourists thoroughly enjoyed the antics of cubs with the mother tigress. The anticipation of a sighting would gradually build up. So much so, that it was difficult to concentrate on the spotted deer or the sambar or any of the birds around. The anticipation soon turned into an obsession and all I could care for was a tiger and turned a blind eye towards everything. It was just like switching off the television after Sachin getting out but in my case, my hero never came out to bat. I had come to believe that all the safari business was a big farce and a tiger in the wild was a big lie.

That fateful day started with the same prologue. I and my family caught the open gypsy at the break of the dawn and geared up yet again, in hope of the ever elusive sighting. A great deal of trauma must have been inflicted on my family because of this obsession, for usually as many as two days out of an ultra short vacation would be kept reserved for tiger reserves, whenever we went out. This time it was Ranthambore National Park yet again and the month was April of 2019. Scorching sun beat upon the dry land and my better half outrightly dismissed the idea of a tiger sighting in the sultry weather. She insisted on one extra day in Jaipur but in the end my persuasion prevailed and we ended up booking two morning safaris on consecutive days.

We arrived at the entry gate of zone no. 6 at the Tiger Reserve with an overcast sky. Soon the heavens started pouring. It was a brief downpour and we were soaked to the skin in the open vehicle. Nevertheless, it was a big respite from the hot climate. The middle aged and lean bodied driver was a local guy of Sawai Madhopur, Anil. He said that a fleeting spell of rain is not a good sign for tiger sighting as it is usually in the heat that tigers come out near water bodies to quench their thirst. He sounded ominous but Sitaram, our aged guide, was more positive. “We will sight a tiger today” he announced almost prophetically. I narrated my long tale of agony to him while sitting with him on the back seat as Nidhi had occupied his navigator seat for comforting a drenched and trembling Riva. Sitaram’s demeanour and his long curled up moustaches exuded confidence, which I kind of liked at that moment. I had otherwise lost faith in the likes of these men. 

For the first one hour, all we did was beat around the bush literally. The gypsy crossed areas of heavy vegetation, undulating streams, open grasslands, boulder laden patches and narrow tracks adjoining dense undergrowth. The jungle seemed unusually quiet that day and the trip promised to be another wild goose chase. Reprimands were flowing from the navigator’s seat about the opportunity cost and how we could have shopped in fancy malls all this time. To add to the drama, frequent ‘sssh’ from Sitaram was getting on my nerves now. I however, regained my composure and started focusing on other beautiful things the jungle had to offer. The owlets prying out of their tree hollows was a new and peculiar sight, which will remain with me forever. The spotted deer crowded near the watering holes and peacocks rejoiced in the momentary rains.

Suddenly, Sitaram called out to Anil and asked him to circumambulate a small murky pool of water. Anil obediently turned his vehicle around and we were soon headed in direction of some dry shrubbery. The thorny shrubs were so thick that they did not permit a clear view of what lied beyond. I thought this to be another cheap gimmick of the park-walas for tourists like us. The vehicle came to a smooth halt and Sitaram attracted our attention towards a small clearing in the undergrowth on our right. The king was sitting right there cooling off its heels in a damp clearing adjoining a small hillock amply shielded by the impenetrable thorny hedge on this side. I was awe-struck as were all other in the gypsy. The right paw of the tiger was positioned vertically and it seemed that it must have licked it a little back and was waiting it to dry. The king was generous enough to pose for quite a long time.

Sitaram then persuaded us to move from that location luring us with such more potential sightings. I was already overwhelmed with the turn of events. Few moments ago, I just wanted a glimpse of the stripes in wild and here I had got an opportunity to look at them at close quarters for eternity. We reluctantly agreed to the suggestion of Sitaram and he asked Anil to take us to a beaten jungle path which was atop the hillock beyond the tiger. As soon as we reached there, we saw some 4-5 gypsies already lined up leaving a small thoroughfare between them. Soon, a magnificent tiger climbed from the hill side and moved at it’s own leisurely pace, totally neglectful of the presence of humans and machines around.

We thought that this is the same tiger which we saw a little while ago in the clearing since this one came from the same direction. Sitaram however disagreed telling the difference between the two from the pattern of their stripes. He told us to wait more after the first one had disappeared. Suddenly the other tiger also climbed atop the hillock and made its walk across the gypsies in a total nonchalant attitude.

I always wondered why sighting of a tiger in wild is such a burning desire in we humans. Maybe, it is the way of our upbringing which has intertwined the tales of tiger in every folklore, every story, every legend, we have grown up listening. Or it is the plain obsession with raw and brute power and authority. Nevertheless crossing paths with this magnificent king was an exhilarating experience and we celebrated it with a feast of sumptuous dal heeng kachoris in piping hot kadi at the local Sawai Madhopur market soon after the safari.