Locking horns with the fearless Indian Bison:
'We turn around and see a Bengali family, a set of six, nervous, anxious and monkey-capped; one of them looking around in the bushes through his telescopic lens. Some of them were in the act of stuffing their faces with potato wafers acquired at the gates and now they sit frozen and goggle-eyed, the momentarily-forgotten food silently falling on their woollens.'
'Why can't the tigers just sit around and do whatever it is that the tigers do? Then comes the answer: The tiger is always on the move.'
The Gaur, otherwise known as the Indian Bison is a tough cookie. It is fair to compare this bovine with Juggernaut from the X-Men series; for it is not a naturally aggressive animal, but IF it is aroused it is extremely difficult to stop it. Hence the term: bull in a china shop. Photograph: Srinath S, aged 19
Day 2
Right after dinner the day before, we are given rather stern instructions (by a solemn-faced Mrs Thakur), to be kitted and be present at the hotel lobby at 6:30 am sharp, not a minute late, and that the Maruti Gypsies would come and take us to the park for the morning safari.
But a word about the night before. Most resorts near the national park are practically within the boundaries of the jungle, and hence, the areas around are not much populated. As a result, there is hardly any ambient light or pollution, unlike towns or city. So as a happy by-product, the night is clear and silent, and one can actually see the sky full of millions and millions of stars.
And the awesome phenomenon when you can see both the sun and the moon in the wee hours. I don’t know how many hours we spend in the balcony, fixing our tripods and trying to capture it, in vain.
Meanwhile, an enterprising person from the team has coaxed one of the locals to part with a bottle of the local liquor -- Mahua -- derived from a tree of the same name, and we are pretty excited to have a taste.
But one whiff at the bottle’s potent content convinces us to leave it alone and call it a dry night.
Scenes like these are pretty common outside national parks. No matter how early you have gotten up to be the first in line at the gates, there will always be 20 more people who have had the same thought, and they would have beaten you to it. Photograph: Shubir Rishi/Rediff.com
So here we are at 6:30 am, wrapped in woollens (the temperature has dipped, and considering that most of us arrived from Nagpur the day before which was like a furnace) en route to the park in an open Gypsy, and chattering excitedly, for this is the best time to see the fauna, especially the tigers. We request to be the first vehicle from our group to enter the park, which is surprisingly, agreed upon and arranged by Siddharth, the go-to man.
But as soon as we reach the gates, we are dismayed to find that about 20 cars have already beaten us to pole position.
So we do what all beaten men must do; get off our cars and line up at the shop that is selling cups of sickeningly sweet milky concoction that passes off as tea (we gulp down as many as we can anyway, it is devastatingly delicious), and wait for our entry passes to be prepared.
We saw similar shops outside every national park we visited. They usually keep paraphernalia associated with the park -- hats, mufflers, T-shirts, tie pins, and in some cases, lockets. Photograph: Shubir Rishi/Rediff.com
The entry to the park is dotted with shops selling tea and snacks and stuff usually associated with jungle safaris -- memorabilia, caps, hats of all kinds, scarves for your head, scarves for your lens!
I briefly talk to a German couple with unpronounceable names. They inform me that they have been camping at the reserve for the last six days and have yet to see a tiger. This does not exactly lift one's spirits.
The forest officials at Pench need only one identity proof from a party of six, and then all your names are methodically and painstakingly entered (by hand) in a register, with five elbows digging in your ears at all times; for the counter is small and the people are many. So it gets a tad chaotic.
The deal is that you cannot change your cars after that and you are ‘stuck’ with your companions. How these officials actually manage to remember faces to a car is, quite honestly, a mystery.
But all that is forgotten once we are through the gates and a few scared deer leap out of the very slow moving vehicle 200 metres ahead, and our hopes to catch a tiger are back with much vigour.
These pug marks were rather fresh when we entered the gates, according to a local patrolling officer, who eagerly pointed to other accompanying marks of two young cubs (not visible in the photo, since getting off the car is an offence). The tyre tracks next to it indicate that someone went in pursuit of the big cat in a hurry.
Ten minutes go by and we spot the first pug marks of the day. The guide leaps up and balances himself on the front seat, the driver automatically slows down as if riding the same telepathic wavelength, and everything goes deathly silent. The tigress actually sat at this spot with her cubs and played with them for a bit. A car behind us noisily comes to a halt.
We turn around and see a Bengali family, a set of six, nervous, anxious and monkey-capped; one of them looking around in the bushes through his telescopic lens. Some of them were in the act of stuffing their faces with potato wafers acquired at the gates and now they sit frozen and goggle-eyed, the momentarily-forgotten food silently falling on their woollens.
Five minutes pass and there is no sound except the soothing snores of the person seated in the extreme corner, who claims on being sharply woken up that the silence was a bit much for him.
“Cholo cholo,” says someone in the car behind, and the engine loudly comes to life (making each one of us wince) and speedily goes past us. In reflection, when you drive in the jungle, you follow an unwritten code (or maybe it is written somewhere) -- no honking, no speeding, no sudden engine starts, and definitely no screeching of tyres. I wonder what these jungle drivers would say if they ever had to drive around in a large city.
Later, back at the camp, we all agree upon how awesome it would have been if we had been allowed to drive around in the Mahindra XUVs (provided they came equipped with large sunroofs!). But we are furtively thinking: why can't the tigers just sit there and do what tigers do? Pat comes the answer: The tiger is always on the move.
www.google.com/amp/s/m.rediff.com/amp/getahead/report/travel-locking-horns-with-the-fearless-indian-bison/20160226.htmRecord:
photos.app.goo.gl/utUnn173N2BE85qX9From Ward's big game.
