As our jeep manoeuvres through the broken forest trail, a gale of wind blows off the hood of my jacket and whispers in my ear. Suddenly, I’ve forgotten that I’m cold and sleepy at an hour when even the sun is tucked in. I’ve been to Corbett before, but only on a tiger chase. Today, I want to unearth the mysteries of its wilderness.
The fading moon creates an eerie atmosphere in the backdrop of bare trees. I anticipate the creatures of the jungle to be half asleep, but with my eyes riveted on their territory, I spot a pair of vultures courting on a treetop, a flock of ducks playing with a cow, a polygamous muster with one peacock and nine peahens on the hunt for food, and two jackals suspiciously trying to cut across the fence to an elephant’s shed.
The first rays of sunlight promise to actualize our tiger dreams. Our jeep jerks to a stop; a fresh set of pugmarks belonging to a tigress and her cub mark the sand to our right. A chill crawls through my spine as I imagine the big cat deliberately creating those pugmarks to mock us lesser mortals. Without realizing it, we have entrusted our lives to Santosh, our driver & guide, who is now telling us brave stories of being in a tiger chase in this very spot.
My eyes follow four men walking in the distance. Two roads diverge in the woods, and they take the one less travelled by, reminding me of Robert Frost. They are heading to a zone of the national park that is officially closed to visitors, to inspect the post-monsoon re-laying of the road. A bulky man walks behind them; his long bushy moustache is enough to scare one of us, but for the creatures of the jungle, he is carrying a rifle which he looks ready to use at the slightest hint of danger to the men he must protect. It is a wonder how these creatures have adapted to the screeching sounds of a jeep, yet flee at the first sign of a human.
Our own man sets the engine roaring, and for the next three hours, I let myself be fascinated by the magnificent colours of the Kingfisher, the green camouflage of the Chestnut Bee-eater, the if-looks-could-kill expression of the Eagle, and the unrelenting pecking of the Woodpecker. A Sambar Deer almost has me leaping off my feet, with its suspicious, nervous movement towards a water hole. Only five minutes ago, Santosh described the Sambar Deer as the jungle’s most naïve prey; when it spots a tiger, it moves closer to it to verify that it really is a tiger, eliminating any chances of an escape!
It is mid-day now. The tigers are playing catch me if you can with us, reigniting our hopes with new pugmarks each time we are close to giving up. To my untrained eye, these pugmarks all look the same, except for marginal differences in size.
For the rest of the post which was originally written for & published in the Hindustan Times, see original here.
Shivya Nath is an Indian girl who fell in love with traveling, writing and social media. The first is the most thrilling, because being from a protective Indian family means every travel plan comes with a small battle. She says, “I’m not complaining. At my age, few from my hometown have traveled as much and as independently as me.”
She juggles work, travel and blogging, until she finds the perfect blend of the three. Join her on her journeys around the world, as she seeks the most untouched, undiscovered of places that few have been to, and even fewer have written out.
