Bandhavgarh: Kind Fate

I don't know if Greek tragedies have any role to play in this, but Fate is now invariably deemed cruel. I take the liberty to disagree. This narrative is one of the hundreds of incidents that have made me aware of Fate's generosity and unconditional benevolence.

Friday morning revealed a clear, blue sky. But the incessant rains of the last few days still had their cooling effect on the air. It was hard to tell that this was summer in Central India. Bandhavgarh had turned into Bangalore.

As we waited outside the park gates for the green flag, jeeps slowly started rolling in. The authorities follow the rule of signing every form that carries the names of tourists who have permission to enter the park and this is carried out diligently and as tediously as is capable only by government officers. But today, they seemed to surpass themselves. It was half an hour past the opening time and we were still waiting outside the gate. I was seething with anger at the injustice and the loss of precious time. But we were clearly at the mercy of the all-powerful bureaucracy.

6:35 a.m.: Our jeep, the only one left at the gates now, was finally given the green signal. All three of us were muttering curses and trying hard to remain hopeful. I closed my eyes and thought - "Well, they can play spoilsport for all I care, but it's the Forest who gives and it's to the Forest I pray." With a couple of deep breaths, I felt a little more cheerful and optimistic.

The straight road into the Siddhababa meadow, breaks into a fork - the straight prong leading into the Chakradhara meadow and the right prong taking you along the A-route. Even before we reached the fork, we saw some jeeps next to the Chakradhara meadow pointing at something towards the A-road. Anxious and hopeful, we craned our necks to see if we had even the faintest chance of seeing what they were pointing at. With the disadvantage of being late, all the prime positions at the place of a sighting would have been taken up. But we had not time to dwell on pessimistic speculations. As our jeep turned to the right on the fork, we saw some more jeeps ahead of us, all in a row, lining the meadow to our right. But we still could not see the point of attraction. A little boy in one of the jeeps waved frantically at us, signalling us to hurry up!

And suddenly, there he was. I had no idea that my prayer would be answered so soon. The Forest giveth and how! At the centre of the open meadow to our right, was sitting the largest male tiger that roams the wilderness of Bandhavgarh - the Bhamera male a.k.a. the 'New' Tala male. The 'new' is quite redundant as he 'arrived' in Tala, after leading a somewhat nomadic existence, three years ago . Since then, he has slowly been taking over what used to be B2's unchallenged domain. He is now the Tala male - the dominant tiger of most of the Tala range, what with B2 slowly inching towards total retirement.

It was nothing less than a shock to see Bhamera - the whole of him and not just bits of his ear and stripes on his tail - out in the open, a few feet away. It seemed that he had come out in full view - a thing he wouldn't have done had it been a normal summer day -to enjoy the cool morning breeze after the soothing rains. I thanked the rain gods profusely.

Soon, we realised that his partner, Kankati was resting amidst bamboo groves at the edge of the meadow - even closer to the jeeps but hidden amidst brown bamboo shoots.

The whole morning was spent with this delightful couple who were as hospitable as the villagefolk of Tala. We were allowed to witness their private moments together in front of a tree that had grown parallel to the ground, providing a romantic backdrop to their non-vocal interaction.

After a most gratifying safari, I vowed to send the metaphor "Cruel Fate" to the funeral pyre.