Gowri's Nature Blog

The legend that was

2011-11-21T20:24:00.015+05:30

I have read many eulogies that praised men who knew and understood tigers well, but I never imagined that someday I would write a eulogy of a tiger that knew and understood humans well.

Ever since I saw B2 this April, I have mentally written and re-written eulogies of this legendary supercat but never got the inspiration to sit down to work and actually write it. I finally decided that perhaps the only stimulus that could ever succeed in driving the piece of writing out of me was B2's imminent end. His age, a ripe 16, was a constant reminder of the inevitable - no one could pretend any longer that he would live forever, although anyone who has been associated with Bandhavgarh National Park for any amount of time, would have come to believe it with an almost instinctive conviction. To the guides who knew him like a brother, B2 was a godsend. Single-handedly responsible for the boost in tourism, B2 earned the daily bread for a large number of villagefolk who chose to serve as guides and drivers. In fact, many guides admit that they believe God had sent himself to Bandhavgarh in the guise of a tiger - so grateful are they for the role B2 has played in enriching their lives. For the tourists who travel from different corners of the country and the world, B2 is synonymous with Bandhavgarh.

It would be tantamount to disrespect if I were to glorify longevity and deem it as the basis of his greatness - B2 wasn't great because he lived a long life, although I am grateful he did; because had he not lived this long, we may never have seen or fully understood half the mettle B2 was made of. My sincerest hope is that we have, indeed, succeeded in apppreciating and understanding B2 as well as he had understood us. At the risk of sounding repetitive I must reiterate that B2's long life wasn't so much a source of admiration as was his survival skill. Born in a litter of three, B2 was neither the the largest, nor the most remarkable tiger to have been born in the heart of tigerland. Nor has it ever been easy for male tigers in the ever-shrinking world of forests and forest-dwellers to survive through adolescence, let alone live a long life of unchallenged supremacy over a large territory. B2 not only did just that, he did it with a flair and skill that has changed my perspective of survival - B2's life makes survival turn from a mundane, hand-to-mouth existence to an artform that deserves adulation. Dodging angry and revengeful humans almost every day, taking goggle-eyed tourists in his graceful stride, claiming dominance over his land with a quiet, self-assured demeanour was what endeared him to everyone that followed his life closely. And he is perhaps one of the very few tigers who allowed humans to follow the minutiae of his daily routine with the nonchalance so typical of the feline family. Every aspect of B2's life was a revelation to wildlife lovers - from the time he disclosed, on video, his own tender, affectionate moments as a young cub with his father, Charger, to the interactions he had with his grown-up sons, B2 unveiled the hitherto mysterious private lives of tigers to humans.

I am yet to understand, however, if it was intellect or intuition that made B2 such a remarkable character. His cool acceptance of humans around him and the comfort with which he carried himself in their noisy presence led you to question if he really was raised in the wild. What is so special about a tiger that didn't mind a crowd of humans ogling at it, you say? A quick read through this blog may help convince you of the incredible way B2 touched the hearts of people who met him.

If this write-up weren't proof enough of B2's strength of character, I am proud to say that I have a story to tell, prouder still that the story happened to me.

On a sunny April morning, the safari jeep carrying my friends and me had been cruising down the forest path in a desperate look-out for the slightest sign of stripes on legs. The last few rides had been dry as a bone and our vacation had been inching towards the inevitable end, causing us to fret and sigh in despair. But this morning was a lucky one. Along the path that lines the forest wall beyond which humans hold ground, were three jeeps including our own, the inmates looking eagerly to their left into the grass-and-bamboo vegetation. Somebody had spotted the much-desired orange-and-black colours in the yellow grass and excitement was abound. My heart skipped a beat when I finally saw B2's graceful form swimming through the dense grass. As we kept moving along with him, our guide Ramnath had a brainwave. He called out to the other two guides, asking them to move quickly ahead and stop farther away from where the tiger was, so as to allow him more space. His hunch was that, given enough space, the tiger would take the easier path and walk down on the open jeep track. Thankfully the other two guides obeyed and we waited breathlessly. And in less than a minute, Ramnath's hunch turned true, as the combined burst of camera shutters celebrated the moment of B2's arrival on the jeep track. As he quietly walked down the soft path with his trademark panache, I thought there could bee no greater miracle than B2 walking towards you in glorious sunlight, but I was wrong. As I was looking through the camera's viewfinder, B2's form loomed larger and larger in front of me. I was too scared to let go of the camera, lest I miss a shot right when he would make eye-contact. But something much better and much more unexpected happened. I heard a soft growl that I did not recognise to be a growl at all, in all the excitement. I looked up, wondering what the sound was. It was faint and sounded so distant that I wasn't even sure I had heard it. And then it repeated. A very soft Phhhhrrrrr...Phhhhrrrr...Phhhrrrr...- a wheeze? a whisper? And then it struck me suddenly - it was B2. The sound was coming from him and it was an extremely soft - for want of a more appropriate word - growl! And I needed no degree in animal linguistics, no prior knowledge of Tigerspeak to understand what he was saying. In plain and simple terms, he was telling us to back off, so he could have more room. As he kept walking towards us, the gap between him and the jeeps was closing. And there he was, asking for more space, softly and politely. There was no authoritative aggression, no irritation. Just a plain request made with the calm confidence that it would be complied with. Proving him right, the drivers instinctively reacted to it and started moving away slowly maintaining comfortable distance. This continued for a few minutes before he turned left and walked off into the vegetation.

For sometime, I was left dazed. I had no idea of what to make of the episode. Had a tiger just talked to us? Told us what to do? And we had responded? Had we just behaved like there were no boundaries, no barriers of species and race and all the things that divide us all many times and over? Had a wild animal just spoken to humans without an inkling of doubt that its language may not be understood? What about all this I had heard that humans were all wired different from animals, animals couldn't be the same as humans, because we could speak and they couldn't?

Like always, B2 had given us an insight into the way of the world - the world of humans and the world of animals - and made me aware that they weren't two different worlds after all...

For the special honour he gave me - of knowing him, meeting him and interacting with him, I am eternally grateful and with the sincerest gratitude, I wish him abundant peace and happiness in the other world.

Bandhavgarh: The People

2011-07-30T21:33:00.004+05:30

I hope to do more work on the people of Bandhavgarh, who are adorably simple, affectionate and always ready with a witty line. But for now, some portraits...

Bandhavgarh: Kind Fate

2011-07-02T23:29:00.013+05:30

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.

Bandhavgarh: The Curious Cub of Khitauli

2011-06-28T22:09:00.006+05:30

It was a gloomy, overcast afternoon and we were going to Khitauli again. I wasn’t at all sure why. Nor was I sure where I did want to go – Tala, Magadhi or Khitauli? Thanks to the weather, sightings were now going to be extremely unpredictable. The likelihood of a sighting would be the highest at Tala, but I only later realised that we had failed to secure a booking for Tala for that afternoon. We were now left to choose between Magadhi and Khitauli. Our guide insisted that we go to Khitauli to try our luck with the newly sought-after tigress and her three cubs. A certain doubt weighed heavily in my mind, but then I did not mind Khitauli, not after the first tasting of its exquisite beauty.

Unlike Tala, Khitauli has just one jeep track that leads up to as far as you can go and back. It does not claim an almost precisely planned, close-knit network of roads that one can keep drawing circles in, until you cross the path of a tiger at some point. So that meant no plans or strategies to track a tiger. The only choices we had were to drive back and forth or wait at the waterhole where the family was often seen. Our driver chose the latter. So did all the others. To the result, that there were a string of jeeps praying next to a waterhole, not unlike an angler who meditates over his fishing rod.

Boredom crept in, but I warned myself against complaining about the tedium of waiting in a forest. Boredom in a forest is a coveted luxury when compared to the most amusing entertainment of city life. Whispers turned to murmurs, cookies and snacks were exchanged, giggles and hisses followed the silliest of jokes, false alarms from spotted deer caused some unrest in the group, thundering clouds caused more unrest - the monotony was broken from time to time. The tigress kept well away from the waterhole. I began doubting the wisdom of waiting at a place that now looked like a makeshift army bunker.

But there was little else to do. Heavy drops of water began falling all over and around us. The cold breeze was making me shiver and we decided to pull the jeep top up. With a great deal of untying, heaving, hauling, shifting and moving we managed to shelter ourselves. But now we had a disadvantage. If the tiger were to suddenly appear, there was no way we could pull the top down without causing a fair bit of commotion at the risk of chasing the tiger away. Nor was it possible to see or photograph the tiger within the confines of the tent-like construction. Hard-hitting raindrops silenced our dilemma. We prioritised comfort over a non-existent tiger.

Two minutes later, the rain halted abruptly. Promptly, we removed the jeep’s heavy cover and came out into the weak sunshine once more. The rain, it seemed, was in an impish mood to play hide-and-seek with us. As soon as our guard was down, literally, it began pouring again. Up came the top cover this time, with double speed. Amidst all this, nobody around us had bothered to budge. I cursed myself for not carrying my jacket. Presently, it seemed that the sky had cleared a little and we came out of our shell. Promptly, it began to drizzle. At this point, a fellow-tourist who had been watching our antics could not hold his mirth any longer. He burst out into one of the longest guffaws that I have ever heard.

We spent the entire evening at the waterhole and it was time to give up. Our driver had decided to push it till the last possible moment and we were going to be in trouble if didn’t leave promptly. All the jeeps turned around and the procession turned homewards. It had been a strange experience, spending three hours in one location, but I can’t remember when I had enjoyed myself more. Still, it was a little disappointing not to see even pugmarks of the tiger family.

I have had this lesson taught to me a hundred times now – never feel disappointed with anything, especially in a forest. I had it taught to me again as we were driving back. Just a few minutes later, there was a huge commotion ahead of us – several jeeps had blocked the path and people were scampering, peering and pointing to the thick bushes next to the road. Here was the tigress quietly waiting for us to clear the waterhole area, so she could have her evening drink in peace. We tried to locate the tigress in the mire of leaves and twigs that surrounded her. It was close to total darkness and all I could see was an eye and a cheek at a considerable distance. Well, that was something at least. Our driver was desperate to move on, as daylight was giving up at a frightening pace. Finally he got some space to squeeze in, when suddenly my eyes fell on something very close. Just a few feet away was a pair of dilated feline pupils staring at us with the most curious expression and we had not noticed it at all! So busy were we, trying to get a better glimpse of the mother that we had completely missed this little cub whose marble eyes were watching with his fullest attention from behind a tree-stump, what could be the most puzzling commotion he had witnessed in his brief, innocent life. I hissed and waved frantically to the driver and pointed the cub to everyone. Our collective jaws were stuck in the ‘open’ position for a long time.

After a few hurried clicks, we were bumped back into reality by the driver who was now in a tearing hurry. As he raced his way to the exit we clung on to dear life and the seats, our minds still firmly clinging on to the adorable face that we had left behind.

Photo courtesy: Santosh Saligram

Bandhavgarh: With the Rajbehra Tigress

2011-05-22T21:19:00.008+05:30

After a good rest on Wednesday afternoon, we returned with fresh hopes to Tala on Thursday morning. Having obtained the stamp of routes A and C on our entry form from the forest authority; we discussed our chances of seeing the resident tigers on that route with our guide. Kankati hadn’t returned from her journey to the Fort and the male seemed to have followed her there. So now we were left with Kankati’s sister

who was now the resident Rajbehra tigress. Far from the bold cub who stared curiously at the jeeps last year, she had now grown into an elusive tigress, we were told. She no longer was seen at the Rajbehra dam, where she spent most of her childhood summer days, but was now spending her time in the densely wooded part of the forest behind the dam. This wasn’t great news to us, but it was heartening to hear that she was doing well and had lost the slightly bulimic look that she wore last summer.

We proceeded on the route A and as we approached the Rajbehra meadow, we found the patrolling elephants walking through the tall elephant grass patch in the meadow. They had spotted a tiger in the grass and were preparing to conduct the customary Tiger Show. But the tiger had other plans, it seemed. For what seemed like ages, the elephants groped their way into the dense grass, struggling to locate the tiger and all the while we were speculating which tiger it could be that was making the elephants run out of breath in vain. Could it have been Bokha, the dominant male of Rajbehra? But he was known to be in the Magadhi range for the past few days. Had he moved in to Tala that morning? Or was this the tigress we were seeking?

Suddenly, we heard a furious snort and a growl from the grass patch and we knew the elephants had finally stumbled on the tiger. The ferocious roar made our knees go weak, but it had hardly any effect on the elephants. But if we thought this was the end of the search, the tiger was to prove us wrong. Just when the mahouts were thinking of going back to get the VIP guests on to the elephants’ backs to show them the tiger, it had gone missing again. Right under the elephants’ trunks. Another eon passed before he/she was found again. This time the mahouts seemed confident that that the tiger will remain found until they got the guests into the grass patch. But the tiger had had enough. Up it got and walked out of the grass into the dense woods beyond until we gave up squinting into the oblivion.

But we were giving in to disappointment too soon, our guide reminded us. After a quick conference with another driver, he decided to check at the Nilgai Tiraha, guessing that the tiger may cross our path there. Swiftly he drove to the intersection to find, amidst great excitement, people watching a tiger sitting in a bamboo cluster panting furiously. Looking at her from a distance of 10 feet, we were overjoyed to see it was the Rajbehra girl whom I was yearning to meet. She looked plump now, her skin glowing radiantly with good health. So delighted was I to see her go back to her rotund beautiful self that we knew from January 2010, that I almost didn’t notice the poor girl’s obvious exhaustion caused by the surging heat. Gradually though, she seemed to recover, as her panting grew slower and she opened her eyes to observe the world around her.

I couldn’t help grinning with sadistic delight at the thought that she quite calmly accepted our presence and looked at us with quiet, indifferent eyes while the very same tigress had sent the mahouts and the VIP guests on a wild goose chase. Had Shakespeare lived to see this incident, he may very well have dubbed his innovative phrase, “a wild tigress chase”.

After she had rested enough, it was time to resume her walk. Engines growled with anticipatory pleasure as we held on to our seats tightly – the tigress walked gently in the wooden patch next to the road; the dappled light accentuated her beautiful frame and gave her a golden sheen making her look believably unworldly and ethereally real.

As we finally parted ways, a wave of contentment passed through our hearts imparting an emotion similar to the one you feel after a refreshing shower under a roaring waterfall.

Bandhavgarh Live: New Sights and Sounds

2011-04-26T19:04:00.008+05:30

On the afternoon of the second day, the weather seemed to cool down, but we had no premonition of how much cooler it was going to get. We were roaming the forest with not much hope, wishing it was hotter so the watering holes wouldn’t be as deserted as they were now. We pushed our way through the sandy mud track winding its way through dry bamboo, until Vikas pointed to a dead log. We searched for that little bird he claimed was sitting on the log – a savannah nightjar.

I was overjoyed to see this rare sight of a nightjar during the day. Nightjars, true to their monikers, are in their element after the sun has called it a day. Their whirling wings when they fly close to the ground remind me of the blades of a miniature fan. I had only seen nightjars once in the early hours of dawn, their wings in heightened activity, looking to make the most of the little time they had before the sun broke out of the horizon. When Vikas promised us on the first day that we would get to photograph nightjars this time, I was expecting it to be an after-sunset affair. But watching this nightjar at half past four in the afternoon was a complete surprise. Vikas, as always, had been as good as his word.

Just half an hour after the nightjar sighting, raindrops began to fall on our heads. On our drive from the railway station, we had been told that rain and storm had raged on for a week, to the extent of uprooting trees in the forest, before our arrival, but the skies had now cleared up for good. But it now seemed that rain gods hadn’t finished with Bandhavgarh yet. As we huddled inside the Gypsy with its top pulled down, we broke out into exclamations of wonder and joy at the delightful sight around us. Despite the thought of diminishing chances of seeing tigers anymore, we were overjoyed at this unique experience of watching the forest getting soaked to the deep in freshly prepared water.
Our chances of sighting tigers near waterholes in Tala practically washed out, we decided to go to Khitauli the next morning and try our luck with a tigress who was said to be seen often with her two cubs.
Khitauli was nothing short of a revelation. The scenic beauty of this least visited range of Bandhavgarh is simply breathtaking. The forest looked fresh that morning after the evening’s downpour and was abuzz with birdcalls. A long stretch of road through the lovely woods took us to a wide river that looked exceptionally picturesque. The white sandy riverbed transported me to the memory of Corbett National Park’s River Ramganga.

Video here.

Unfortunately the tigress eluded us, but we were so excited at the beautiful sights and sounds of this new range that we had discovered that we forgot all about our objective of seeing the tigress. After a brief rest at the quaint little rest house on the bank of the river, we left Khitauli with plans of returning the next day.

Bandhavgarh Live: The male tiger at Sidhbaba

2011-04-21T20:50:00.004+05:30

Considerably cheered up by our good luck, we proceeded on our route, but found nothing more remarkable than rollers, langurs and spotted deer. The ever-courteous tea vendor and little boys pleading us into buying salted chickpeas were awaiting us at Hardia, where all jeeps stop at half-time.

The other side of the break gave us some interesting sightings of green vine snake, ruddy mongoose, hunting serpent eagle and a menacing wild boar until we were back to Siddhbaba, only to encounter the dominant male of the area this time, although only in glimpses, walking away into the rocky corners of the hill.

We saw him again the next morning, this time walking quietly towards the stream from where we had left him the previous evening. We hoped that he would come out into the open and walk in the meadow just like his consort did, but he had no plans of spending a hot day out in the open. Quietly, he moved into the fern-ridden stream and bent down to gently lick the salt out of the wet mud. This he did for quite a few minutes, before delving into the fern bed all cool and cosy, giving us obvious hints of a long and lazy slumber ahead. Thus leaving him in his air-conditioned bedroom, we moved on.

The rest of the morning was severely disappointing, as we narrowly missed seeing five tigers together – B2, the Mirchahni female and her three cubs were found around the Damnar area. Hoping that we would be assigned the same route in the afternoon, so that we could have another chance at seeing this large family, we got out of the park that was now heating up in the blazing sun.

Bandhavgarh Live: The First Tiger Sighting

2011-04-20T19:22:00.003+05:30

The drive to Katni seemed like a breeze that brought with it intermittent whiffs of pleasant scents in the form of glimpses of wildlife – pairs of jackals scouted the fields in the moonshine, owlets flew past the car, hares went hoppity-hop by the roadside, spotted deer flashed their glowing eyes at us as we zoomed past them. Three pairs of eyes were swallowing all the sights greedily from inside the car, thinking this couldn’t get any better. But it did. As we entered the range of the Bandhavgarh forest, a brown fish owl swooped past us and sat by the roadside to the left of our car. The vehicle skid to a stop and the orange eyes turned to us and stared a couple of seconds, before the wings lifted the cat-like bird off into the sky.

It was 3 AM when we checked into our hotel, leaving us with only a couple of hours to catch our few winks before the first safari into the forest. And the two hours went away in a blink.

The sightings in Bandhavgarh seemed to have hit an all-time low – from what we heard from our guide who updated us with the latest in the Tala zone, there was not much hope for us. What with two of the finest tigresses in Tala making premature appointments with their Maker and their cubs seeking refuge in forbidden corners of the jungle, our chances of good sightings seemed bleak. But quelling all our pessimistic speculation with the force of a 16-ton weight, came Kankati, the new Queen of Siddhababa, Chorbehra and Chakradhara, crossing our path, her head held high with new found dignity and pride. A Sambhar deer’s loud honk from behind the Siddhababa hill halted our advancement into the meadow beyond. All was silence as we waited for a few minutes hoping it wasn’t a false alarm. Presently, Vikas, our driver, whispered urgently – “Tiger, tiger”. We looked to where he pointed to see Kankati walking with a slow, assured gait along the stream, through the dense of foliage of the Jamun trees that lined the quietly flowing water.

It is incredibly amazing to see what a vast change a span of a year can bring into the life of a tiger. When I saw Kankati last May, she was a demure youngster, recently separated from her mother, looking to find a foothold of her own in a forest dominated by powerful tigresses around her. Her diminutive size didn’t foretell the kind of life she was going to face in the coming months, but her hunting prowess should have told us she was no ordinary character. The Rajbehra meadow was her favourite haunt last summer, where she would spend most of her time sitting submerged in water, or cooling herself in the shade of Sal trees watching the jeeps with curious yet indifferent eyes. On one afternoon, we had found her neck deep in the cool water of the Rajbehra dam, with eyes looking lazily into the distance and her manner relaxed. A few minutes later, her eyes fixed on something far away, and she started to wade slowly towards the bank. We felt sorry, thinking she would now leave us and take shelter in the bushes. But something strange was up. Her gait was stiff and her gaze focused. She was stalking a little Langur monkey in the bushes. Our collective breaths just froze in the middle of our chests, as we anticipated a chase, but nothing had prepared us for what we were about to witness. Chase she did, but the Langur monkey used his best defence technique – he raced to the nearest Sal tree and ran all the way up where no tiger could reach him, nearly 30 feet above the ground. One could not fault the Langur for thinking that he was safe at this height, for he had not met a tigress named Kankati before. And this was his last encounter with her. Kankati saw no reason to stop the chase just because it wasn’t happening on land anymore. She seemed to be a firm believer in the Law of Inertia; she had gained a momentum running behind the Langur and she saw nothing that could stop her from continuing to run behind it, even if it meant scaling a 50-foot tree. The chase was seamless – she ran till the tree and then leapt on, with the result that in two short leaps she had covered the distance between herself and the paralysed Langur who was now staring with disbelief at the tigress’s impossible feats, in a couple of seconds. With a delicate nip, Kankati caught the Langur’s neck and leapt down in a single jump and took her prize away. The line of spectators, speechless all this while, broke into a vocal applause mixed with shock and admiration: “Was that a tiger or a leopard?”, “Did you see that?!”, “What was THAT about?!” “Wow!” and so on.

This very capable young lady now rules nearly a quarter of the Tala zone. In a year, she took over the Chakradhara meadow, the Fort, and inched her way into the Siddhbaba territory, where her aunt Chorbehra resided with her two male cubs. Fierce battle ensued between the two tigresses, which spanned over three different bouts of violent fighting, which resulted in the death of the beautiful Chorbehra and the loss of one of Kankati’s eyes. The victory, even at the loss of an eye, established Kankati firmly in the Siddhbaba and the Chorbehra area, where she now roams unchallenged. Therefore, it was natural for us to find her in the Siddhbaba hill, walking dexterously down the rocky terrain, but it gave me goosebumps to imagine the long series of events that had now led us to see her in this unlikely habitat. Who would have thought, this little cub playing mischievously with her mother not a couple of years ago would have gone on a spree of world conquest before she had even shed her cubby looks completely.

Here she was, now in front of us – watching the row of jeeps with quiet indifference, resting a while after a couple of foiled attempts at hunting a Sambhar deer on the hill. Presently, she got up and walked slowly with a purposeful gait, crossed the road and walked on in the direction of the fort. My eyes followed the tigress into the distance with total awe.

Bandhavgarh Live: Onward Journey

2011-04-17T16:31:00.002+05:30

I am trying to produce a live trip report through a series of blog posts on Bandhavgarh, even as I am travelling to the park. Although, internet access is anything but reliable, I am going to try and share a steady flow of snippets from the field, complete with pictures and all.

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Sitting in the air-conditioned coach of Bagmati Express, reading Wodehouse’s introductory volume on Jeeves, I suddenly remembered that I had promised myself to stick to my 750-words-a-day schedule, come what may. A pretty strange moment to remember anything, one might venture to say, but the right cue was provided by the book in the way of Bertie struggling at his writing desk. At this moment the familiar feeling of writer’s block surged inside me, as I could relate very well to what Bertie must be going through. Bam! Writing! Every day! 750 words! Journal entry! Memoirs from the trip! So, out came the laptop to record the journey, as it were.

We are well into our journey to Bandhavgarh crossing Sevagram, indicating our gradual approach into the blessed heart of our nation – Madhya Pradesh. Sevagram has its set of notalgic memories associated with it – despite our never having set foot in the town. On one of our previous sojourns to Bandhavgarh, we had the pleasure of making an acquaintance with a very graceful lady who alighted the train with two young children and several heavy cartons in the form of luggage at this very station. The children, after that, became the highlight of our journey until they disembarked from the train in Itarsi. The older child was about 6 years old and responded to the name Arya. Never have I known a sweeter child, and that is saying a lot, considering how I am not overly fond of male children. Serious, responsible and shy to our attempts of starting conversations with him, he was quite the mama’s boy. He baby-sat his younger brother, helped his mother tidy up things and never disobeyed her. The only time I saw him displaying mirth appropriate to his age was when he caught sight of the sign “Ghodadongri” outside his window and burst into unstoppable chuckles at the rhythmic sound of the name. One touching instance of his sweetness was when he, with longingness and enthusiasm, after many foiled attempts, tried to climb on to the upper berth. His previous attempts had been cut short by warnings and admonitions from his mother, who quite understandably was worried about the risk of the child getting injured. On this instance, he had climbed half-way up already, when the gentle mother softly said, “Arya, meri baat nahi sunoge na tum?”. The sweet reaction of the child was nothing I expected from a six-year-old. Instantaneously, he slid down into his seat saying as softly, “Sunta hoon na, Ma!”. I was touched beyond words.

The younger child was an instant success with the company. A mere 18 months into this world, he had already discovered and mastered the art of posing skilfully for enthusiastic camera-wielders. The moment a lens pointed towards his face, his little chubby visage broke into a delightful smile that lit up half-a-dozen faces around him. Sanyam was the apple of many electronic eyes for the entirety of his journey.

Remembering all this as I stared at the board announcing the name Sewagram on the railway platform, I felt slightly wistful at the thought that I may never meet the mother and children again.

This journey hasn’t had similarly touching moments, but it hasn’t been altogether uneventful. Beginning with Kiran’s kind help of escorting us all to the railway station in a Scorpio and buying us an ample supply of curd and buttermilk, the train journey promised to be, if not anything else, a gastronomically satisying one. My own food kit with theplas, holiges, teekhrotis and biscuits was bursting to be opened and rummaged into. Another exciting part of this trip that Sant, more than anyone, had been looking forward to, was making videos of our journey. No sooner had the train begun chugging its way towards the ‘Hindustan ka Dil’, had Sant sprang into action unwinding the tripod, mounting Roy’s brand new Nikon D3100, combined with the delicious-looking Tokina 12-24, shooting our maiden video. None-too-formal introductions followed, with lots of giggles and bursts of laughter. From then on, videographing became the order of the day, with both Roy and Sant running up and down the train corridor and platforms, to shoot the colours and patterns that piece together to form the interesting life of railway tracks.

Thus interspersed with discovering gourmet delights and the joy of creating motion pictures, the day quite appropriately, yet unpleasantly ended with our going to bed after a long olfactory assault on our senses, that gave us a splendid insight into the details of the recipe of our neighbour’s gobi subzi, which we had seen entering the said neighbour’s anatomy just an hour before bedtime. The night, in contrast, was a peaceful one and ended in a beautiful, warm morning that brought lovely surprises in the form of great army battle-tanks boarded on a goods train on the neighbouring track, as our train stopped for a breather. A close study of the hulks ensued, followed by photography...and thus continues the second day of the now familiar journey to the heart of wild India.

Book Review: Golden Bats and Pink Pigeons

2011-03-28T20:15:00.006+05:30

Author - Gerald Durrell

Publisher - Westland Ltd

Ever wondered if there was anything more to Mauritius than romantic white beaches that allure honeymooning couples to this exotic Mascarene island? Gerald Durrell, in this fascinating book, dissects the remotest corner of Mauritius to introduce us to the little known aspects of Mauritius and the rarest of wild fauna found on the planet.

Golden Fruit Bats of Rodrigues, which by the author's admission, are the best looking bats in the world and the alarmingly endangered Pink Pigeons are the highlight of Durrell's expedition but there are some fascinating and incredibly tame reptiles on the wish-list too. An array of skinks and a couple of species of boa lure the team of biologists into the toughest terrain in the sweltering heat of the tropical island.

As expected, the book is filled with hilarious moments too, born out of linguistic quirks of the local people to the unbelievable tameness of the wild animals that borders on stupidity. To give a peek into one such instance, the Immigration officer at one of the islands, diligently carrying out his bureaucratic duty of filling in various useless forms, tries to write down the occupation of Durrell's team and faces the unexpectedly monumental task of spelling terrifying words like 'zoologist' and 'herpetologist'! Also, Durrell's personal experience with the all-pervading smell of Jackfruit is simply side-splitting material. So is his team's experience with snails that devour the team's sandwiches surreptitiously at night and baby shearwaters that drown them in their wails all night, forcing Durrell to reconsider how far he could take his love for animals.

In this storehouse of exotic information about wildlife, one also gets to learn of the techniques expert biologists use to track and capture wild animals - a knowledge not easily available to layman. Durrell explains these scientific trivia with such lucidity that even readers with only a passing interest in animals can understand and enjoy them. This travelogue is a treasure chest of knowledge and information to those who want to learn of nature's amazing creations.

Tales from the wild: An Eagle's Worst Fear

2011-03-24T15:47:00.004+05:30

For a long time now, I have wanted to write stories for young children, pre-teens and teens that will introduce them to and engage their interest in nature and wildlife. This is my first attempt at it. I must gratefully note that many friends have been extremely encouraging, already urging me to publish my writing. I am not sure how well the writing itself will be received. So I am putting this story up on my blog, asking for feedback. Please let me know what you think about this. Pick out flaws, point out errors (even if it is a spelling error), pat me on the back or tell me this is no good.

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Sharp-y was having an awful day. He hadn’t found anything to eat in the morning and he had come flying all the way to his home tree to see if his luck would change. It had been a while since he had been to the home tree. He settled down on his favourite branch which spread out strong and wide out into a golden meadow. This was a good watch-post and he liked the view he got from there. But something wasn’t right here either. There was too much noise today – a long-drawn squawking and screeching blared out from one of the top branches. “Mynas? Parakeets? These noisy birds are bickering all the time.”, Sharp-y thought, a little annoyed at not having the peace that he had come to expect in his home ground. He tried to concentrate on the meadow but his gaze couldn’t stay on for two seconds; the noise was too overpowering. He looked up.

“Hello, you birds! Could you choose a different battleground to flex your warring skills, because your vocals aren’t helping me find food and I am hungry!”

All went quiet. Having vented out his frustration, Sharp-y too felt calmer inside. An instant later something green dropped down to the branch from the branch above, right next to him. He didn’t pay attention, thinking it was a leaf falling. But the ‘leaf’ uttered an alarmed ‘kwok’ when it realised who Sharp-y was, nevertheless bravely proceeded -

“I am sorry. But I am in terrible pain. I was hoping my family would come back and help me. Hence the noisy calls.”

Startled, Sharp-y turned around. “You’re a Parakeet!”

“Rose-ringed”, the bird said craning its neck to show the pink-ring that offered a testimonial to its words, as though this would somehow save him from being swatted by the great aquiline talon. Normally, the Parakeet wouldn’t have had anything to fear from this large bird, but with a broken wing he had reasons to be worried.

But the Eagle seemed in no mood to inflict any violence on his companion. He quietly stared at the Parakeet for a second.

“You mean, you were the only one crying out all this time? I thought there was an army of you up there.”

“No, only me. My folks were here too, but they left after they were done foraging around here. I couldn’t fly so I was left behind. I have been calling for help since.”

“What happened?”

“Well, my step-brothers were bullying me and kept pecking at me; my wing got hurt. I lied down in a sort of a wedge and dozed off. I woke up and saw that it still hurts when I try to fly.”

“I am sorry. It’s a little lonely on this side of the forest. I am not sure if you are going to find help soon. What will you do?”

“Call out to the skies like I was doing. Folks of my tribe keep flying overhead. Someone will hear me.”

Sharp-y shuddered at the thought of more deafening screeches.

“Er...let me see if I could so something. What do you need to heal your wing?”

“Well not much. I am sure it will be alright in a couple of days. I need to give it some rest. But I am afraid of starving these two days and then finding myself too weak to fly when my wing mends.”

“Hmm. Well, I could ask a friend of mine to get you something to eat I suppose. He will be here soon. The sun will be right over our heads anytime now.”

“Err...thanks a lot. You know, you are very uncharacteristically kind, but I am afraid any friend of yours may not be able to help. You see, I don’t eat meat.”

“I know that. My friend is a Squirrel. He eats the same kind of food as you...I think. At least, he too doesn’t eat meat. You can speak to him and figure out your nutritional differences.”

“Squirrel! Sacred Tree of Figs! You are friendly with a Squirrel?! You are the weirdest Eagle I have come across!”

Sharp-y was annoyed.

“And you are friendly with a lot of Eagles, are you?”

“Er, no. I must admit you are the first one I have got this close to. Not very social folks, you Eagles. But I always heard Squirrels and the like ended up in your breakfast menu. Did I hear wrong?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t known many Eagles either. Except my mum and my brother. And we have always been partial to snakes and toads. Toads, myself.”

“Ow! Ow Ow Ow!”

Sharp-y was alarmed at this fresh outburst of squawking. But this time, the Parakeet looked more excited than pained.

“ I get it. A Snake-Catcher, aren’t you? Fruity-fruits! I had never seen one sitting. But I guess I would have known if I had seen you flying!”

Sharp-y, despite his grumpy mood, was amused.

“It’s no wonder you didn’t eat me!”, continued the Parakeet, relieved at having finally solved the puzzle.

“I am not used to having feathers and fur as accompaniments for dinner. Messy eating, they must make.”

“Well, well, well...what a tale I am going to tell my folks back home. I met a Snake-Catcher who has a Squirrel for a friend!” He nodded his head disbelievingly, perhaps anticipating the reaction he would get from his tribe.

“You are still thinking of joining your folks after they injured you and abandoned you?” It was time for Sharp-y to be puzzled.

“What else would I do?”

“Safer to be by yourself, I’d think”

“Ow no no no! I couldn’t do that. I would go mad without folks of my kind around me. You aren’t suggesting that I live alone?”

“Isn’t it better than being beaten to incapacitation or death?”

“No. Yes. Well, I don’t know. Being alone is the same as being dead.”

“You are strange, you flock birds”. At that moment a discreet chirp somewhere down on the tree caught Sharp-y’s attention.

“Feather?”, he called out.

“Sharpy! You are home!”, squeaked a tiny rodent, who was gliding up the tree, his smooth back glistening in the sun, his plume-like tail twitching slightly.

“That’s a funny name – Sharpy.” the Parakeet butted in.

“It’s Sharp-y. Sharp Aye. Only Feather calls me Sharpy.” The Eagle’s irritation returned at the Parakeet’s intrusive chatter and he made up his mind that he wouldn’t let this audacious little bird call him Sharpy.

“Feather, here’s...er...sorry, what was your name?”

“Trippe.”

Sharp-y wasn’t sure it was a word. More like an inadvertent sound one lets slip through one’s mouth when bored. “Sorry?”

“Trippe. That’s my name.”

Feather wasn’t sure about helping a stranger, but he couldn’t refuse Sharp-y.

“I have a store filled with figs. Can you eat figs?”. The question seemed absurd to Trippe.

“Can I eat figs??? I can devour them! I haven’t seen a fig tree in three days and I was getting cranky.”

“Oh, alright then. I’ll get some.” Feather scuttled away quickly out of sight. He made sure he didn’t let the stranger see the direction he took, lest he give away the location of his store. He needn’t have worried. Trippe could only move by hopping and he had no hope of getting to the next tree until he could fly again. Feather’s larder was firmly hidden in a tree three big branches away in the direction of the Stream. Nobody could have seen the little hole in the tree that far away. Not even Sharp-y.

“Alright then, I’ll move along now. Haven’t eaten anything since last night, I’ll have to get a bite soon.” The Snake-Catcher took off with a swoosh into the sky, trying to think which watch post would be his best bet.

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A large Sal tree next to the Stream provided a cool shade and the calmness Sharp-y enjoyed. He had forgotten, momentarily, his unusual encounter with the Parakeet on the previous day. His stomach and heart filled, he thought why this tree couldn’t be his home tree. Why had mum chosen that other tree next to the meadow? Perhaps she liked the meadow. It was a good thing, though. He wouldn’t have met Feather – Feather! Trippe! Sharp-y suddenly remembered the previous day’s incidents. It had felt good to get away from the Parakeet’s chatter. Sharp-y himself had talked more in those few minutes with Trippe than he had done in months. It had tired him out. Worse, his hungry stomach had fueled his irritability. He was so glad when he finally got away. Now, rejuvenated by wholesome meals and a calm surrounding, he felt kinder towards the injured bird.

Trippe felt a pang of fear when he saw a pair of broad, dark wings speckled with white swoop over him, but was relieved to find it was his benefactor, returning to the branch he had left abruptly the previous day. Trippe had felt very lonely all evening and this morning. Feather had been generous in his supply of delicious comestibles, but he was too timid and shy to hold long conversations with. Moreover, Trippe got a feeling that Feather didn’t take too keen an interest in forming new friendships. He wondered what had prompted the little rodent to form this highly unlikely bond with a great raptor like Sharp-y. Oh what stories he could carry back to his flock, if only Sharp-y would share them with him! The tales would be the stuff of all gossip for a whole month, a whole year, perhaps. So, it was with great delight that he welcomed the Eagle on his return. The yellow eye of the huge bird scanned Trippe’s wing closely.

“Feeling better?” he enquired.

“Oh a lot better. Thanks. I can stretch the wing a little now without much pain. You and your friend have been so kind. All those nutritious figs have restored my energy. I really thought I would be dead when I found my flock had left. Who would have thought I would be rescued by an Eagle? That’s going to be the story of the decade.”

Sharp-y almost regretted having returned to this flood of chatter.

“A great friend, Feather, isn’t he?” continued Trippe, hoping to elicit a narrative about the origin of Sharp-y’s friendship with the Squirrel, from the Eagle himself, but none came forth.

“Yes”. Sharp-y had decided to be reticent today.

Twenty-four hours of loneliness had been too much strain on Trippe’s endurance, so he wan’t going to give up so easily. But even direct questions didn’t help him get the scoop he was hoping for.

“There’s nothing much to tell. We’ve just known each other for a long time.”

Trippe suspected that there was more to it than that, but gave up. He sensed that Sharp-y just didn’t want to tell him.

He decided to settle on a lighter subject. “So, did you get anything to eat? You said you hadn’t eaten all morning.”

“Yes, I found myself a good meal as soon as I left.”

“And a good meal to you is not a bunch of figs, I am sure.”, cackled Trippe, hoping Sharp-y would find it funny.

“Toads.”

Suddenly, Sharp-y felt terribly sorry for the poor Parakeet. He couldn’t understand or explain the little bird’s seemingly insatiable need to talk, but he felt a surge of sympathy for him. Sharp-y himself wasn’t wired to be talkative, he could go on for months without speaking to a soul, but this creature seemed to thrive on endless tittle-tattle. He also found a slight curiosity to understand how these flock birds managed to speak about everything they felt and thought. At a moment’s impulse, he decided to find out, by doing something he never imagined he would do. He opened up his little box of secrets.

“Toads. That’s what I eat almost all the time.” He knew the last remark would trigger a series of questions. He didn’t have to wait even for a second.

“Snakes?”

“No. I never eat snakes.” That rejoinder elicited a gasp from the injured bird.

“No snakes? Why not? Aren’t there any snakes in this part of the forest?”

“There are plenty. I just don’t catch them. They aren’t scared of me. Why do you think you didn’t see many nests around here. Or didn’t you notice?”

“I didn’t.” Trippe shook his head in befuddlement. “What is the problem? Are you not a Snake-Catcher? Are you some other bird that looks like a Snake-Catcher but isn’t? Or did something go wrong with your tummy one day? Some orange-spotted yellow snake didn’t agree with your stomach, so you stopped eating snakes altogether?”

This bird has some imagination, Sharp-y thought. Not only does he talk a lot, he thinks a lot too.

“No. I am afraid of snakes.”

That’s it. He had said it. Sharp-y never believed that he would disclose this secret to any living thing in his life. Even when he had tried to, he couldn’t. It demanded a lot of effort from him. But here he was, telling a chatterbox of a Parakeet, calmly that he had a phobia of food. Years of terrifying nightmares of snakes constricting the life out of him had culminated in one simple statement. Now that he had put his fear into words, it seemed as ridiculous as an elephant saying it lived in mortal fear of Bamboo.

The next instant, Sharp-y regretted having revealed too much. What was he thinking? It was a Banyan Tree of Blunder to talk about his secret to this stranger, who indulged in so much chatter. Now, the whole world would know about his phobia and he would be a laughing stock. Any interest Trippe had shown in his life was only because he wanted to gossip about it with his folks when he returned. They would all cackle with amusement at his pathetic fear. That’s all it was worth to them – a round of laughter. However, he realised that now that he had revealed the secret, he would have to go on and explain it. He couldn’t possibly allow the world to think he was a little sparrow-hearted bird hatched out of an Eagle’s egg by mistake.

“Seeds of poppy!” The red, rounded beak remained open forming a tiny hollow. “What could you be afraid of? What can snakes do to a big, powerful bird like you? They must shiver in their scales at the thought of you!”

“And I shudder at the thought of them.”

“You are weirder than I thought!” Trippe couldn’t stop himself from exclaiming.

“You are a grateful bunch of feathers, aren’t you?” Sharp-y was visibly annoyed at Trippe’s growing audacity.

“I am sorry. I really am. But I am just flabbergasted. How could this be?”

“Look, I am not insane. I have not imagined myself into this phobia. I am afraid of snakes because I know what they can do. Even to birds like me. I have seen it.”

For once, Trippe was quiet. He knew, this time, there was a story coming and he didn’t want to interrupt the flow. The Eagle may decide to not tell the story, if his mood changed.

“My brother got killed by a serpent.”

This was like a non-stop series of thunder and lightning. Just when you had recovered from a startling shock, here was another. Trippe still didn’t want to interrupt. The round beak remained open in anticipation.

“It is unusual for Eagles to have siblings, so my mother used to say. So she was very proud and happy that she had two eggs to boast of. When I emerged out of one, the other egg was still unhatched. It remained that way for more than a week and mother began to get worried. She asked Father if anything was wrong, but he didn’t know anybody who had had two eggs, so he couldn’t tell. My brother emerged out of his shell two weeks later and mum was the happiest bird I knew for a long time. I look back and see, it must have been tiring feeding two babies but she didn’t care. Slant-y, naturally, was smaller and slower than me. So I got to do a lot of things much before he did. I tried out my first toad diet days before him, I started flying much before him. One day, when mum was away and I was practising flying, Slant-y must have felt an urge to follow me and try flying himself. He had watched me fly for weeks now. He hopped out of the nest and he immediately fell past at least a dozen branches before he was on the ground. I was alarmed. I called out to mother frantically, Slant screeched his lungs out, but mother must have been far away. She didn’t hear us. But what was to come was even more shocking. There, hidden in the leaves, on the ground, something moved. I had failed to spot it, it was so still. Now, it moved with such speed and circled round Slant’s body. I had never seen a Python before. I was scared out of my wits.”

A faint gasp showed Sharp-y that Trippe was hooked on to his every word.

“The Python was huge, it was...”

“Spare me, I have seen a Python, don’t describe it.” Trippe was trembling.

“Well, that’s that. The Python strangled him and within seconds Slant-y was gone. Mother was distressed. Now that I could fly she took me far away from our nest and taught me hunting. And I left, after a few days.”

There was a long pause.

“So do I look like a fool, a coward now?”

There was a very long pause before Trippe spoke.

“ I am sorry about your brother, but I still think you shouldn’t be afraid of snakes.”

“And I think you shouldn’t think so much.” With these sharp words, the raptor spread out his wings and took off in the air.

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It was two whole days before Sharp-y returned to his home tree this time. So angry was he, at himself, for having allowed the Parakeet to take so much liberty as to give him advice, that he kept flying for hours and hours without settling down. It was nearly evening when he finally sat down on a crocodile bark tree. He had reached the Grey Mountain, from where he could see, at a distance, the Stream glistening in a thin streak amidst the dark foliage of trees like the silver line that adorns dark, wispy clouds. The mild, pleasant breeze of the meadows, here on the Grey Mountain turned into gusty winds. As the strong currents of the wind hit Sharp-y on his face, he felt his rage cooling down slowly. His worst fears had come true. Despite listening to the traumatic story that had given him the phobia, the Parakeet had thought he was being silly. He hadn’t expected anyone to understand, but he didn’t want advice either. He was terrified of being strangled and that was that. It wasn’t as though Sharp-y hadn’t tried to overcome his weakness. But the sight of a slithering scaly body sent shivers in his body. There was that incident when he forced himself to hunt down a rat snake. But it was no use. As he pounced on it, the snake had lashed out; its long whip-like body curled round the Eagle’s chest. This contact was enough to stop Sharp-y’s heart for a moment with paralytic fear. He dropped his quarry and flew off.

It wasn’t like his mother hadn’t tried to teach him to hunt snakes. She was adept at hunting down even a large, powerful serpent. She could swing it by its tail and play hoopla with it. But no amount of demonstrations of reptilian hoopla had helped Sharp-y. And here was this little frugivore telling him he had no business being scared.

It was quite unintentionally that he had returned to the home tree. He had simply wandered when his anger cooled down and returned to the meadow. The Parakeet must have left by now, the Eagle thought. He sat down on his usual perch and noticed the Parakeet was indeed gone. But he was wrong. Trippe floated down to the branch after a few minutes.

“Hello, Sharp-y. I thought you would never return. I am very very sorry. I must have sounded very judjmental. I am a Parakeet you know. I can’t help shooting my mouth off.”

“How’s your wing now?” Sharp-y was curt.

“It’s perfectly alright. I can fly now. I had gone foraging around in the morning.”

“I thought you would have left.”

“I intend to. But I didn’t want to leave before seeing you. You have been very kind and I have been very ungrateful.”

Sharp-y couldn’t remain stern any longer.

“It’s alright. I suppose it is difficult to understand. It must seem very strange to you.”

“No. I thought it was strange at first. I have had two days to think it over. And I don’t think it’s that strange at all. You were young and helpless and something happened to make you believe very strongly that you would remain forever weak and helpless. We believe in a lot of things long after they cease to exist.”

“Well, if a python tried to strangle me now, I would still be as helpless.”

“Oh no, you wouldn’t. A python can’t fly. Your brother couldn’t fly. Even back then, you weren’t as weak as he was.”

“That may be true. But I still can’t help being paralysed when I am near a snake.”

“Hmm. I can understand why that happens. You tell yourself so many times that you are inacapable of handling a snake, that when you really see one, you do become incapable. That’s what you believe. But in reality, you are a strong bird, a bird born to conquer snakes. So you can’t be all that weak.”

“You mean, just because I am born an Eagle, I can hunt snakes just like my mother?”

“Of course yes. Parakeets are born to talk. You can’t keep a Parakeet in a hole all his life and expect him to become quiet. He will talk to himself.”

A glint of amusement appeared on Sharp-y’s golden eye. The cheeky little bird could have thought of a better metaphor, Sharp-y knew. He felt grateful to Trippe for his attempt to lighten his mood.

“I think the trouble is that you are a lonesome bird.”, Trippe concluded with great confidence in his diagnosis.

“Aw now you are losing it. Don’t tell me I have caught some madness because of loneliness. Because all Eagles are solitary. We are not flock birds. I would go mad if I were to hear your chatter for the rest of my life.”

“I believe you.” Trippe didn’t mind the bluntness of the remark one bit. “What I am saying is that your problem could be cured if you were a flock bird. Since you are not, the fear has stayed on for so long.”

“And how would a flock of Eagles have helped me believe I can hunt a snake, Oh Wise One?”, said the raptor half-mockingly.

“Well, I have thought this over. We flock birds keep reminding each other of our strengths and failings almost every day. Oh Trippe, you found an orchard nearby? You are a good tracker. Oh, ask Trippe where we could find good water. He is great at tracking, you know. You hear from others what makes you a good Parakeet. But here you are, left to your own devices and all you have been telling yourself is what a lousy Snake-Catcher you are. Doesn’t help at all. So you will have to change that, you know. Tell yourself that you are born a Snake-Catcher. No python is going to change that. If you are not a Snake-Catcher, you would be dead. Like your brother.” As Sharp-y’s black crest on his head bristled with the surging anger, Trippe was quick to add, “You know, you are alive and you matter more now than your brother. I am sorry he had to die, but you survived because you were stronger and more capable. You will have to believe that.”

Sharp-y didn’t speak for a long time. When he did, it wasn’t what Trippe had expected him to say.

“You know, if being in a flock is such a great thing, why did you end up with a broken wing, left to die of hunger?” The tone which was more curious than angry, told Trippe that the question wasn’t a sarcastic one.

“Oh well, I admit it’s not a perfect life. But it’s easy for you to live alone. I am not born to lead a solitary life. I depend on my family in more ways than you can imagine.”

“But they are gone now.”

“Oh well, I can find them. It will take some days. But I will get back.”

Sharp-y was puzzled beyond words.

“Nothing in your list of rules says you have to live with the same folks, does it?”

“It’s not a rule, but that’s how it always is. I must find my folks. I will be comfortable with them. Some of them are nasty to me, I admit, but at least I know what to expect.”

“You know...you seem to think my friendship with Feather is as strange as a flying three-horned hare, but nobody told me that I couldn’t choose my own friends. Even if they weren’t of my own kind. Do they tell you at home not to mingle with other folks, folks who would treat you with respect and love?”

This time, Trippe couldn’t bring himself to speak for a very long time.

“You are a clever bird, Trippe. If you can track a rich orchard and sweet water, you can find good friends too. If you ever need to talk to a snake-catching friend though, you know my home tree. Now, it’s time to grab a meal...”

With these parting words, the raptor flapped his huge, dark wings in the air, launched himself into the cloudless sky, his piercing eye looking for a slithering body on the ground, his heart pounding the words, “I am strong and capable...”

On the other side of the Stream at dusk, there was much chatter in a flock of young Parakeets as they tried to extract all news and gossip from a new friend they had just met. He told them he knew of a mango orchard just round the bend of the Stream and he could guide them all to it. This news was greeted with more excited chatter. A dozen voices said in a chorus how glad they were to find a new member who was so wise and who knew the ways of the world...

Book Review : The Aye-Aye and I

2011-03-17T22:17:00.005+05:30

Author - Gerald Durrell

Publisher - Westland Ltd

I picked up this strangely titled book in my hands and it seemed like a child's story book. The cover illustration was a sketch of what seemed like a cute panda-like animal with large, peering, innocent eyes. 'Aye-Aye?', I thought. Was that a made-up name or a name given to a pet? With Gerald Durrell, one can always expect to have unexpected surprises unleashed in the form of outlandish creatures from unheard-of places. So with great eagerness, I started to read the introduction and it grabbed my attention right away. The introduction describes Durrell's personal encounter with a strange creature with "its round, hypnotic eyes blazing, its spoon-like ears turning to and fro independently like radar dishes, its white whiskers twitching and moving like sensors; its black hands, with their thin, attenuated fingers, the third seeming prodigiously elongated, tapping delicately on the branches as it moved along, like those of a pianist playing a complicated piece by Chopin. It looked like a Walt Disney witch's black cat with a touch of E.T. thrown in for good measure."

Having neither heard of the existence of any such animal before nor having seen a facsimile of the animal shown in the cover illustration anywhere, I was not sure if this book was a work of fiction like the author's "Rosy is my relative", a hilarious novel about an elephant who loved to binge. But as I read on, it seemed like there really was such a creature called the Aye-Aye and it wasn't a pet and not remotely related to a panda. Nor does the book tell a fictional story. Although the contents of the narrative are as delightfully outlandish and strange as any fantasy fiction.

Come to think of it, this book has all the elements of a fantasy story. A brief glance at the titles of chapters makes you strongly suspect if you haven't picked up a fantasy epic.

The Vanishing Lake

A Flood of Lemurs

An Interlude with Yniphora

Jumping Rats and Kapidolo

The Hunt Begins

Crystal Country and Beyond

Verity the Vespertine

The Soothsayer's Apprentices

The Arrival of the Aye-Aye

The Flight of the Magic Finger

A strange land (Madagascar) with trees, plants and creatures that one has never seen (no surprise - Madagascar houses exclusive flora and fauna in its rich habitats); mythical tales and legends surrounding its magical creatures, a quest that our adventurers must undertake for a noble cause (Durrell's expedition is to capture Aye-ayes for captive breeding to save them from extinction); hazardous roads and challenges that our adventurers face along with the many disappointments that discourage them from moving ahead - this is a thrilling travelogue a la Lord of the Rings.

For, a travelogue is what it is. Pictures of the local people of Madagascar, the towns, the markets, the streets and the sea all came alive in front of my eyes, as though I were watching a show on Travel & Living on TV. From the beginning of the expedition's journey in Antananarivo (one of the many tongue-twisting Malagasy names) to their successful conclusion with the capture of six Aye-Ayes, the narrative is filled with exotic facts about the Malagasy people, food and the land.

What made the book a veritable feast to me, was the generous serving of strange, out-of-this-world creatures the author produces all along the journey towards discovering the magic-fingered Aye-Aye. The tiny Gentle Lemur that inhabits the reed beds of Lac Aloatra, the Giant Jumping Rat, Ploughshare tortoise and the mongoose-like cat (or cat-like mongoose, if you like), the strange, exotic predator, the Fosa - all of these I learned of, for the first time from Durrell's narrative. To my dismay, almost all these creatures are seriously endangered.

It is heartening, therefore, when the expedition meets with great success and returns to England with their goals fulfilled, filling the reader's heart with hope. The best thing about Durrell's writing is the tone of optimism and hope for the future of these vanishing creatures. The writing does not depress the reader in the least - the reader is introduced to these fantastic animals revealing their wonderful nature as well as their pitiful plight, but at the end, one retains only the feeling of wonder and hope, despite an awareness of the sad reality that shrouds these endangered animals.

The author leaves us with news of success of the captive breeding programme of the Aye-Ayes and also by reminding us of our duty and reponsibility towards our fellow creatures and nature. His humility is admirable, despite his awe-inspiring achievements in the field of conservation, as he signs off reminding us how all the conservation work is just an apology to nature for the shabby treatment we mete out to her.

This is where you can learn more about Gerald Durrell's legacy - Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust

Tales of Encounters with Strange Creatures

2011-03-03T18:14:00.003+05:30

I stumbled upon Douglas Adams' talk on his experiences with strange, wild creatures which is a strange coincidence in two ways. One, I wasn't looking for anything related to wildlife but ended with this talk about the wildest creatures that inhabit this earth. Two, I have just finished reading Gerald Durrell's 'The Aye-Aye and I', so I was completely taken aback when the first creature Adams speaks in this video is about the Aye-Aye from Madagascar!

This is a must-watch for wildlife lovers, er no, it's a must-watch for everybody because Adams has a skill for making even our familiar Earth look like a strange planet from a different galaxy. I had that feeling when I was reading his Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Earth seemed so strange and unearthly! Now, his tales of lemurs, snakes, comodo dragons, flightless parrots...seem like tales from another Universe, from a land of fantasy created by an eccentric wizard. Huge doses of side-splitting humour is an added bonus.

Douglas Adams: Parrots, the universe and everything | Video on TED.com

Itchy fingers

2011-03-02T18:20:00.005+05:30

Blogging? The mind sees a distant, vague image of myself sitting upright for hours typing thoughts and experiences furiously on to Word. An eternity ago. The image makes my fingers itch. They move restlessly on the keyboard, wanting to type reams and reams of words to make up for all the lost time, confident that even Eternity can be caught up with. But the mind wakes up with the slowness of a breeze that fails to stir a fallen leaf, unsure of what it needs to do.

Sometimes I used to wonder, what a road accident and a consequent broken hip have got to do with the mind's ability to think and imagine. But I have learnt a lot about the way my body functions, in these six months of recovery, than I had known all my life. The mind and every inch of my body have been working overtime for the last six months to mend those splintered bones while the rest of the world was hidden by a screen of impervious fog.

Now as the fog clears, the mind recognises words like writing and blogging, with a twitch roused by memories of familiar emotions. Half-cooked ideas for new stories about a pyrophobic pipit and a lazy eagle dance tantalisingly and vanish as soon as I begin to type. Fingers begin to itch even more restlessly.

Quiet Contemplation

2010-09-24T14:36:00.003+05:30

Hidden is my visage from the scrutiny
Of the aspiring know-alls who believe
That one must bare the insides of the heart, for all to see;
So that they could know all that goes on within me.
The schemes, the dreams and the flights of fancy
They would like to know if my thoughts could fly free
Or if they swam in the dark and murky depths
Of a mind that was, is or ever will be.
“How could such opaque eyes lead into a space infinite?”
They ponder and flounder, yet refuse to believe.

“An infinite space can only seem empty
When veiled with such a vacant expression.”
I realise that they may know it all
But not a thing as quiet contemplation.

- Gowri S.

Patterns

2010-06-26T13:55:00.005+05:30

Long ago (at least it seems so), I had tried to capture various leaf patterns on the sensor after having spent considerable time in parks observing how beautiful plants look at a micro level. Yesterday I spent an hour doing a similar exercise and here are the results.

Reprimanded by a Mongoose

2010-06-10T11:14:00.005+05:30

Rikki-Tikki-Tavi took his snake-hunting very seriously. So do all his brothers, sisters, cousins, grandchildren and all his clan. So much so, that when a silly safari vehicle showed up in his way,Rikki's great-grandson was furious! "Interrupting my work with rolling and roaring like a silly elephant! Could have chased all the snakes away and what would I be left with?" He gave an indignant stare and a few teeth-baring rebukes until the four-wheeler decided to slink away as noiselessly as the mechanical make-up of its insides allowed it to, ashamed and apologetic, forced into introspection. Hitherto, the "rolling and roaring" had been a matter of pride, self-esteem, a matter of identity, inseparable from the ego. Now a person less than 1/100th of its size had made it feel smaller than its tail-tip and compelled it to mull over its raison d'être.

Ember eyes

2010-04-14T15:57:00.003+05:30

He breathes no fire
But his eyes are aglow with it
His tread sounds not like thunder
But the earth trembles beneath it.

Yet the air is heavy with whispers
“The fire is dying”, a voice says
No, there is no dearth of rumours
“The King will be gone”, is the hearsay

A gaze at his majesty,
His grace and poise;
I realise instantly
As I look into his eyes,

“The fire is far from dying,
Ablaze, agleam and far from dying”.

To a beautiful tigress

2010-02-23T20:05:00.005+05:30

A poem for the tigress of Jhujhura who lives in Bandhavgarh National Park:

I had written this poem even before I had seen her. I had only seen pictures of her, but this January I had the great fortune of seeing her in person and she is much more beautiful than I imagined her to be. Lithe and lissome, she is the epitome of grace. When we saw her coming down to the waterhole to quench her thirst, it was hard to imagine that this nimble tigress had newborn cubs to boast of.

The zephyr caressed the tender leaves
And caused them to sigh with delight.
The boughs waited to break into a dance
As they bathed in streams of light.

The path was lined with rows of Sal,
Bamboos shielded the grassy earth
From the unkind glare of the summer Sun;
The Shama sang with ceaseless mirth.

The grass was ablaze with exultant hope
The trees awaited the quiet,soft tread;
The nymph could appear any instant now,
Making her way to the calm river bed.

Soon she emerged,goddess of the woods;
Golden child of the luminous Sun
"She has arrived! She is here!"
Called out the cervids in unison.

Lustrous as the stars, gentle as the breeze
Her eyes so mellow and sweet
With an august gait she walked on the path
And reached the soothing retreat

The glistening river beckoned the nymph
And embraced her in her fluid arms
Pearls of water sparkled on her skin
And bejewelled her feline form.

What divine beauty of heart could she possess
To command such mystic charm!
For beauty of the soul does not wear away
With time or with bodily harm.

Her magical allure arises from within
For her heart is lovelier than her mien
What fools are men to call her a beast,
A fiendish creature that she has never been.

Calm and aloof her visage seems
In spite of her power and vigour.
For all the strength she holds in her,
She seems tender as a flower.

Hope

2010-02-22T15:42:00.012+05:30

With every sunrise, the hope sinks, tigers die quietly in remote parts of the country sans funerals, sans odes, sans mourning...People in cities and urban areas living in blissful ignorance in their modern, high-tech world complain about hotter summers, rainless monsoons and power cuts. "Why can't we increase forest cover?", someone asks, fanning himself furiously with a sheet of paper. "There is a huge ecological imbalance in the world", opines another, indicating to the cause of failed monsoons. "Someone should stop the felling of forests", says an energetic one. Somewhere, quietly a tiger dies...

It has been two years since I blogged about the apathy of people and governments to the plight of tigers. And things haven't changed much. A very depressing fact to begin a blog with. In fact, these days it is with this depressing thought that I begin my days with. Each day begins with a sense of hopelessness and helplessness - hopeless as I keep reading news of more tigers missing/dead in the newspapers, helpless as I can't think of what I can do about it all. It's one thing to talk about conservation and criticise the government, but when I point a finger to myself and ask, "What am I doing about it?", I gulp down the anger.

1411 left? I don't think so. But that is besides the point. Aircel, a mobile service provider, recently started an awareness campaign through their advertisements featuring the number of wild tigers left in India. The campaign has got people talking - even those who would have learned the word 'tiger' at school and forgotten about it. And there are those who question the authenticity of the number 1411, and those who question the intention of Aircel in picking this theme to garner followers for their brand. Does it matter? Does it mattter that Aircel do not seem to have planned any concrete projects which would actively contribute in tiger conservation and seem to be just "spreading awareness"? Or how will it make a difference to the situation if there are 1400 or 1100 or 1000 tigers left in the wild? The fact that it is less than 4000, the estimate given by the government five years ago, makes the issue a critical one - one that needs immediate action and not much talk, if we can help it.

Thoughts such as these were whirling in my mind when a friend came up with some ideas which we could implement to contribute in some way to help our tigers. I am feeling grateful to him for having shown the way for something that I had felt so desperately. We are still working on the ideas to develop them into something feasible and substantial...till then...I shall let Sweet Hope shed its ethereal balm upon me a la Keats.

Hi!

2009-03-23T18:11:00.002+05:30

Hello friends,

What with studies and approaching exams I am finding it terribly difficult to blog at the moment. So I am posting this picture from my Corbett trip, the report of which I am yet to complete.

Hope to start writing soon!

A Tribute

2008-03-26T19:32:00.003+05:30

I was reading Gitanjali, a collection of poems by Rabindranath Tagore, one of the greatest poets India has seen and was so utterly moved by the emotions expressed in the poems - if ever it was possible to make poetry so visually alive and vibrating with energy, then this is it!

A humble photo-tribute to the great poet...

Thou art the sky and thou art the nest
as well.

O thou beautiful, there in the nest
it is thy love that encloses the soul
with colours and sounds and odours.

There comes the morning with
the golden basket in her right hand
bearing the wreath of beauty, silently
to crown the earth.

And there comes the evening over
the lonely meadows deserted by
herds, through trackless paths,
carrying cool draughts of peace in her
golden pitcher from the western
ocean of rest.

But there, where spreads the
infinite sky for the soul to take her
flight in, reigns the stainless white
radiance. There is no day nor night,
nor form nor colour, and never, never
a word.

(Poem 67 - Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore)

-------------------------------------------------------

THIS is my delight, thus to wait and
watch at the wayside where shadow
chases light and the rain comes in the
wake of the summer.

Messengers, with tidings from
unknown skies, greet me and speed
along the road. My heart is glad
within, and the breath of the passing
breeze is sweet.

From dawn till dusk I sit here
before my door, and I know that of a
sudden the happy moment will arrive
when I shall see.

In the meanwhile I smile and I
sing all alone. In the meanwhile the
air is filling with the perfume of
promise.

(Poem 44 - Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore)

Unnoticed

2008-03-24T13:53:00.003+05:30

One of the wild flowers that stays so close to the ground that one would hardly know it exists......

In Search of Colours

2008-03-18T12:13:00.003+05:30

An image that I took in a park....probably it would be hard to believe that the subject is a hibiscus leaf, when I looked at the leaf it looked quite extraordinary. For one it was quite narrow and small unlike the usual broad leaves that hibiscus plants flaunt. Secondly, it was a leaf that was on the verge of being shed, so the colours were yellow-red making the tiny leaf look like a flame. This gave me the idea of composing the image vertically. Taken at 1/1600 of a second at f7.1 at ISO 200 in glorious morning light.

Snakes - My changing perceptions

2008-03-11T16:43:00.008+05:30

"Curious creatures - snakes!" That was the first reaction of my approximately 10-year-old mind at the thought of these reptiles. I don't remember having ever thought of them when I was younger than 10 years.I pitied them for not having the convenience of well-developed legs and I shuddered when I imagined myself being forced to crawl on my tummy! Later at school, I learned from Lamarck's theory that snakes lost their legs simply because they did not deem it necessary to employ the beautiful (I am not so sure of that, though) legs God had bestowed on them! Impertinent! So they eventually lost their legs! (So it seems they deserved it after all). I just hoped, for their sake, that they didn't regret it too much and moved on with life or shall I say, "crawled on" with life?

Well, these were just passing thoughts about snakes and they didn't occur to me very frequently, so I moved on with my life until we moved into a house in the country. With three farms in the neighbourhood, the surroundings were simply picturesque. I was enjoying my proximity to nature and especially to birds - when I realised that living in the country doesn't take you close only to beautiful birds but also to its predators - snakes! We had many encounters with rat snakes and cobras, which for some reason used to choose our window sills to bask in the sun! I wasn't scared exactly, but I couldn't help feeling startled when I stepped out of the house to see a large snake curled up on the porch or seeing the shape of a snake through the glass pane of the window. The most memorable incidents involving snakes are when my cat used to follow the snakes around and try picking a fight with them! I would call out to him anxiously, worried about the cat getting bitten, but with the hunting instincts roused he would pay as much attention to me as he would to a hunted mouse begging him to spare its life! Thankfully, my cat always attempted to attack the snakes from the tail end and the snakes invariably escaped by sliding into the nearest hole! Relieved, I would have a good laugh looking at the perplexed expression on the kitty's face!

Having seen snakes more often than before, my feeling of pity and amusement towards snakes somehow gradually turned into a feeling of repulsion. Their unblinking eyes and their glistening scales and the stealthy way of slithering into bushes somehow failed to impress me and I resented their intrusion into the grounds around our house. Nevertheless, I cannot remember ever being 'scared' of snakes.

A couple of years later, for some curious reason that I haven't figured out, I started having regular nightmares. Every nightmare was different in its details but all of them had one common theme - a snake crawling up on me and threatening to strike or strangle me! I had these regularly every night when I went to sleep and had me invariably waking up terrified and puzzled! These nightmares plagued me for a few years until I was absolutely terrified of even the name! I hated the idea of being terrified of snakes as all my education in natural history advised me against it. I knew that like any other creature on earth, snakes were perfectly innocent creatures struggling for their own survival and by no means, keen to harm anyone if it did not get them food for the day. It took me a long time to overcome my phobia - when I did, I reverted to my previous state of disliking them and I always thought it would remain so - I could never imagine myself getting to like them!

And now came an unexpected incident which triggered an interest in me for these creatures - I was taking a stroll in Lalbagh - a beautiful garden near my house - when all of a sudden I saw some movement behind the pots in the nursery and instinctively I knew that it was a snake! I jumped on to the lane next to the road and ran towards the nursery - simply because I had my camera in my hand and knew I could get some pictures of a rare subject. :-) Just goes to show how a person can lose one’s head when there’s a camera in hand. :-)

Thankfully, the nursery was fenced, so I stood outside the fence and looked through it to find there were two snakes (not one) that were spiraled together and were thrashing about the whole place and my jaw dropped at the sight of this….I kept clicking as much as I could and felt thankful that there was a fence between the snakes and me – they looked quite fierce, the way they were beating each other to the ground with the such vigour!

Slowly a crowd gathered behind me and I could hear whispers “snakes dancing” to which I could but smile a little.True they looked quite graceful, but their ferocity could be hardly associated with anything as fine as dancing! For the first time as I stood watching the scene, I thought snakes looked interesting. I felt fascinated by this “dance” of theirs and wondered at their indifference to the crowd that was watching them.

The first thing I did when I reached home was to process the pictures and put them up on a nature forum online. And everybody seemed to agree with my opinion that it was a mating ritual of rat snakes that I had seen. However after a few days, a couple of people mentioned in their comments that it was not a mating ritual, but a “combat dance” that male rat snakes indulged in frequently to establish their dominance over the territory and over the female snakes within it.

I was even more intrigued by it and so googled the topic to find that it was true and I had indeed witnessed a combat dance between two male snakes! I felt so incredibly lucky to have witnessed so rare and so natural an event so unexpectedly. This incident helped in creating an interest in these creatures that I had feared and abhorred so much. I am still far away from admiring their beauty as some people do, but I am now for the first time in my life curious and interested in snakes and keen to learn about them. Really, the best way to learn about nature it seems, is by being close to nature!

Light and darkness

2008-03-10T13:07:00.004+05:30

Whilst looking for subjects to photograph in a park yesterday afternoon,I was captivated by how the sunlight had lit up just one side of the leaf.The side against the light was totally dark. Thought of just capturing that bit of the leaf and it turned out like this.............

"Mundane" subjects

2008-03-02T12:34:00.004+05:30

As I have been taking images, I am slowly beginning to realise the wonderful opportunities that the usual things around provide us with.The so-called mundane subjects which are so often neglected can be seen with different perspectives and portrayed in images with a different view. I just took a couple of images of grass blades and I was surprised at what I got!

I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars. - Walt Whitman

Wild and pretty

2008-03-02T12:30:00.004+05:30

Some wild flowers that go unnoticed.....

A weed is no more than a flower in disguise. - James Russell Lowell

Subtlety

2008-03-02T12:25:00.002+05:30

A Plumbago flower.......

Blog Makeover

2008-02-29T16:04:00.002+05:30

Well....I just felt a need for change and thought a good makeover for my blog would perhaps be a good idea. And since I have been writing predominantly about nature and wildlife, I thought I might as well adopt the name I had given to my other photoblog on Wordpress.

By the way, I hadn't realised that it's been a year since I started blogging!.....:-)

Why bother saving tigers?

2008-02-29T12:39:00.002+05:30

A friend very kindly hinted to me yesterday that it was all ok to go on and on about "saving tigers because we need them" but very few people would even know why we need them!Loving tigers passionately for what they are, I had somehow overlooked the fact that humans need to know the WHYs for everything they do and don't do. And as Kate very rightly pointed out in her comment, tigers aren't here just to give tourists a good time!
A British tourist recently told me how farmers in Britain are having to shoot Red Deer and Muntjac (Barking Deer) to control their population, because they have no large predators! Now, we in India are blessed with tigers, leopards, wild dogs, wolves and so many other small predators, all of which play a great role in maintaining the ecological balance. But then, when we have so many predators, why do we need tigers? Tigers are the largest big cats in the world and so are easily one of the largest predators too. And since India has a vast variety of herbivores which come in all shapes and sizes, including Gaur (commonly known as the Indian Bison), wild buffaloes, Sambhar deer (weighing up to nearly 250 kilos) we do need a large-sized predator that can keep a check on the prey population and keep our forests healthy.

For all the people of India who consider themselves patriotic, there is a great reason to have tigers alive. The tiger is our national animal and it is a shame to call ourselves patriotic if all we can show towards an animal so inseparably linked to our country's heritage, nothing but apathy. Project Tiger - an initiative to save the wild tigers of India was set up in 1973 when the tiger numbers had reached an alarming 1200! 35 years later, we have 1400 tigers left in the wild. Should we pat ourselves for the excellent job done in holding on to the 1000 and odd tigers?

Having talked about the reason we need tigers, I believe that it's a shame to ponder over "why" we need an animal to be alive. Why does any creature have to justify its right to live? Humans have turned themselves into tyrants of the worst kind by questioning the material worth of all creatures and deciding on the basis of this material worth whether the animal deserves to live or not. I for one, am horrified to be witnessing our wild tigers vanishing before our very eyes!

Do we deserve our tigers?

2008-02-28T11:16:00.004+05:30

Why are we so indifferent to the brutal killings of our tigers? Why do we so carelessly ignore the rapid disappearance of our "national animal"? We care about who wins a cricket match, we care about our favourite celebrities being showered with awards, but not really for an animal that represents India's rich wildlife heritage! In the little experience I have had of wildlife tourism in India, I see that every tourist who comes to Indian jungles wants to see a tiger - a wild tiger! But the percentage of those tourists who really knew about the situation of wild tigers in India was almost nil! In my initial days as a naturalist, I found it absolutely shocking! I almost wanted to ask every tourist, "You want to see a tiger on your safari, but do you know how many tigers are left in India? And how many tigers are being poached even as we speak?" I had a difficult time restraining myself from snapping back when people spoke of wild tigers as show-pieces kept for the entertainment of tourists!Worse, we have had people asking me why we don't carry guns on safaris to ensure our safety,"just in case a tiger attacked us"!

Unbelievable as it may seem, I have prayed several times during my safaris, for tigers not to be seen.....because we don't really deserve tigers!

People who think tigers are for our entertainment, tigers are man-eaters and hence to be terrified of, tigers are to be poached or worse to be ignored, don't really deserve tigers!Tigers are just too beautiful for our ugly attitudes!

Less than 1500 tigers left in the Indian jungles, but do we really care?

We fail to realise that if we manage to save our tigers, we are not doing anyone a favour but ourselves.If tigers go extinct, it does not really matter to the tigers - they won't be around to brood over it - but we must realise that we give ourselves a raw deal by losing so magnificent an animal.

Why must we save our tigers? Not because they need our sympathy, but because we need them!

NDTV and Sanctuary Asia has been running a campaign to save the tigers, requesting people to sign online petitions to influence policy-makers to take immediate action and remedial measures to save our tigers.

NDTV - Save the Tiger Campaign

Sanctuary Asia - Save the Tiger Campaign

When I had signed the petition the number of people who had supported the campaign was 16000 and odd. A week later I find that the number has only crawled up to 23000+. Phew! No wonder tigers are in trouble!

So I am still wondering, do we really deserve our tigers?

Misty Morning Experiences

2008-02-25T15:50:00.009+05:30

Winter is not exactly my favourite season, but I like the effect winter has on photography. :-)

I have had many 'a misty morning experience' as I call it, this winter.

For a start, it feels so magical to be outdoors on chilly mornings to watch birds.

But my best 'misty morning experience' wasn't about birds..... I was on a boat safari one morning in January on the backwaters of Kabini and it was so foggy that the driver and I could hardly find our way into the forest. The guests in the boat looked anxious and even asked us if we could manage to find our way, but our concern was different. We were anxious that we wouldn't get to see any animals owing to the cold and damp mist that enveloped the forest. There were plenty of birds about but the people in the boat were hardly interested in them and our one target was to find an elephant!An elephant sighting was the least we could ask for as no other animal except an elephant would venture near the water on that cold a morning. I hoped to see an elephant as the Giant bamboos all around the water are a huge temptation to the gentle giants.

However all our search yielded no result at all and we were feeling slightly disappointed as we steered into a little inlet of water (where we usually see elephants hanging around) and all that we saw was sheets of mist over the water. We were almost about to return when suddenly on the water surface we saw this......

An elephant's trunk emerging out of the water!I almost shouted out in surprised delight! A whole massive elephant inside the water on a cold winter morning (it was about half-past seven)! We waited for a few seconds to see if the rest of the body would emerge....we were also slightly anxious about our proximity to the elephant because it would have taken no time at all really for the elephant to emerge out of water right next to our boat and since we were inside an inlet, we were quite literally cornered!

After a few seconds, the rest of the body began to appear on the water surface and the elephant showed himself very slowly as though he was reluctant to get out of the water where he seemed to be perfectly enjoying himself!

What surprised me is that he must have heard us from miles away and yet he was so nonchalant about our presence even after we got so close...and we had a delightful time watching him slowly get up and reach out to the bamboos in a casual manner, chewing bamboo shoots lazily.....

After we left the place I felt so grateful to the beautiful tusker for allowing us to share his tranquil moments with us! This has been one of the best wildlife moments I have experienced so far and I feel so unbelievably lucky!

The Big Five of the Backwaters of Kabini

2008-01-19T21:12:00.000+05:30

The Big Five of the birds that I have been able to photograph in the last month, that is. Kabini is so rich in bird-life that I may need a few years to photograph all the species that inhabit the area, but the water-birds are relatively easier to photograph. So here's my collection.....

The Grey Heron.....with a huge wing-span!

The Woolly-necked stork, another of my favourite birds...

A Great Cormorant taking off.....

An Osprey waiting over the water one morning....

Two Brahminy Kites on a misty morning.....

These are the most common ones but not really the biggest of the whole lot that one can find....I hope to put up pictures of some really good-looking eagles in Kabini, which easily surpass the Kites and Ospreys in size and appearance, but that's for another day.

Back to Kabini

2008-01-19T09:07:00.000+05:30

At the end of a long, frustrating wait to get back into the jungles, especially when my strenuous work life was getting to me badly - luck struck! And how? Simply out of the blue, I got an offer to work as a naturalist in a wildlife resort!I was thrilled, to say the least.

So off I was to Kabini - one of my favourite wildlife destinations and this time I was to stay there for as long as I liked!

A safari a day into the jungles and a blissful time all day by the backwaters watching birds and experiencing a beautiful sunset at the end of the day - I couldn't have asked for anything more, really.

Ranganathittu Bird Sanctuary

2007-11-29T16:20:00.000+05:30

A short one-day trip to Ranganathittu came as a great relief amidst all the stressful time I was going through at work. Very few birds could be sighted as it wasnt exactly the right time of the year to be there - all we saw were a group of white ibises. But the place was simply beautiful!

Added to the joy was that I found some very rare flowers....entirely unexpected as I had gone there looking for rare birds! :-)

All in all, a great stress-buster of a trip!

The Fascinating World of Insects

2007-10-11T10:31:00.000+05:30

Insect world is really fascinating, I discovered that after I came across a few colourful insects in my search for good subjects to photograph!

This bug was hanging at an awkward angle and his bright colour attracted my attention. When I stooped to the ground to take a picture, all his legs started dangling freely except one which was holding on to the twig. I assumed that he was sleeping, but was told later by a fellow-nature lover that this was a defence mechanism by these bugs who pretend to sleep when they sense danger approaching!

Jewel bug! I don't wonder why it's called that. :-)

Mexican Beetle.......Mother Nature's a true artist!

How small is small?

Beauty at Hebbal Lake

2007-10-07T19:39:00.000+05:30

I found this beautiful flower at Hebbal Lake when I went there for bird-watching. I would like to dedicate this image to Silke and Wolfgang who have been so kind and encouraging to me!

My first day with a Macro Lens

2007-09-16T18:24:00.000+05:30

I shall never forget today! After a long wait, I finally got myself a Tamron 90 mm Macro lens! Equipped with a DSLR and my precious lens, I set out to a park nearby to hunt for pictures. And these are some of the images I made today.

Pure Innocence

2007-06-09T01:47:00.000+05:30

Pretty white cosmos flowers were dancing in the little garden outside our house one afternoon after a nice shower. So I thought I could make a picture of it....

This flower reminds me of the paintings that children usually make. A round, bright yellow core and simple white petals around. Perhaps the simplest pattern of a flower that one can think of. Yet, the flower is so appealing, that one can't really be bored of it.

Somehow, everything about this flower reminds me about children - its tenderness, its simple beauty, the innocent look....probably the flower should be renamed as Innocence. :-)

Kabini - A Wildlife Paradise : Part 4

2007-05-04T19:37:00.000+05:30

The next morning, the safari jeep was ready by six o’clock and we were more than ready to get going. The air outside was cool, with an ever so slight misty feeling, but with all the promises of turning into a hot and sunny day. As we walked up the paths towards the jeep, we found our friend of the previous day, an Oriental magpie Robin hopping on the ground. He was a fearless guy – no matter how close we got to him, he wouldn’t fly off, but hop quickly away, only to maintain distance. Our proximity did not seem to worry him at all, unlike the shy Forest Wagtail that was with the Magpie Robin on the previous afternoon. I am quite used to the other kinds of wagtails in the city – a pair of White browed Wagtails are regular visitors to my office garden, Grey and Yellow Wagtails are quite common in parks and gardens, but this forest variety was unfamiliar to me. I had never seen one before and when I first caught sight of this little bird, just a few feet away from me, I was delighted. I found this bird better looking than its cousins, despite my fondness of all the Wagtails. However, the Forest Wagtail wasn’t as obliging as the Magpie Robin, so one not-too-clear picture of this bird was all that we could get before he flew away, never to be seen again.

My eyes wandered around on the lawn to see if I could spot the bird once more, but the Magpie Robin was all alone. We got on to the jeep, and drove on, with our hopes of wonderful sightings soaring higher every minute.

The wonderful thing about forests is the amount of surprises that they have in store for one who is willing to explore. One never knows what one’s going to see next. And if one is not ready and alert, so many rare birds and animals will go unseen and unnoticed, unless they happen to be too large to ignore – elephants, for instance. I remember, a couple of years ago, when I used to be in forests, I would never see as much as a sparrow; I later realised that it was because I didn’t know where or how to look. After a few self-taught lessons, I have learnt to be more alert. Kabini is a wonderful example of what a few watchful pairs of eyes can discern amidst the camouflage, what treasure can be hidden beneath the dry foliage.

A few minutes into the forest, we were pleasantly surprised to spot a Crested Serpent Eagle perched on a tall tree by the roadside. It was a rare sight – the eagle looked gorgeous and we stood there staring at it for quite some time. Not very far, we were surprised by another unusual sighting. This time, it was on the ground, obscured by the carpet of dry, brown leaves that had spread on the ground. There, perfectly hidden was a Common Hoopoe, with its beautiful fan-like crest, curved beak and pretty colours, hopping on the ground, picking up food all along. The guide told us that this bird spends almost all its life on the ground. I was amazed by its striking looks – although I had seen its pictures in bird books before, the real bird was nothing like the pictures. It was much prettier than I had thought.

Encouraged by two rare sightings at the beginning of the trip, our hopes of seeing more rare animals shot up. By the time we reached the river side, we were looking all around us, our eyes hardly blinking, for the fear of missing something. We didn’t have to strain ourselves, for there, right in front of us, was yet another rare bird, sitting on a tree stump, as if it had been waiting for us all morning. It was an Osprey! I almost cried out in delight. I had never in my wildest dreams imagined that I was going to see this bird in the wild! Although seen almost all over the world, this bird is difficult to spot in Indian forests. Mostly a winter visitor, Ospreys are found near water bodies mostly in April and May. I had recently watched a programme on television about the efforts being made to conserve Ospreys in England and was impressed by the beauty and the diving skills of these strikingly beautiful birds. It wasn’t even a week since I had watched this programme and here I was, actually looking at a live Osprey! I thanked my luck for the hundredth time during that trip!

We spent nearly ten minutes with the Osprey and quite reluctantly moved on. We found quite a few wild boars again and more bison herds which had come down to the river to quench their thirst. Looking at so many wild animals on a glorious summer morning by the tranquil riverside is a feeling that can be hardly described.

Finally, we came upon a herd of elephants that were grazing on bamboo shoots. We got closer to a few young ones, who got curious about us and started to sniff at us from a distance.

The jeep stopped near the edge of the river, where we had to get on to a coracle and go for a ride in the river. The coracle ride added nothing new to our animal sightings, although it was very interesting for a bird-watcher. We could see, on the other bank there was a peacock dancing with its feathers spread in its full glory. Unfortunately it was too far away and we could only see it clearly through a pair of binoculars and couldn’t get any pictures. The peacock danced tirelessly, displaying its splendid plumage, for almost half an hour!

Up in the sky, we spotted a few beautiful birds – spoonbills, river terns, spot billed ducks in flight. A black headed Ibis was waiting for its prey near the shores, a pond heron stood motionless, looking very innocent, waiting to dart into the water when a fish came too close. A Common Greenshank was wading in the shallow waters.

As we returned to the shores, there was a bison herd which just entered into the water for an early morning drink. One of them felt curious enough to turn and look at us, although his gaze was as nonchalant as it could get. There was a wild boar too, although he couldn’t care less for our presence.

As we drove through the forest again, a few young stags displayed curiosity, with in a more expressive manner than the bisons. With a few more bird sightings,mixed with a Malabar Giant Squirrel seen scampering about, the safari ended almost too soon.

Before we even realised it was time for us to leave Kabini. We started our return journey, promising ourselves that we would be back soon, as this trip was just too short. I had set out to Kabini thinking of nothing but elephants, but as I returned with rich wildlife experiences, I realised what a paradise Kabini is for the forest dwellers and what a haven for birds it is too! With my heartfelt wishes for the blissful Sanctuary to continue to remain so, I hope to return to Kabini again and again.

Kabini - A Wildlife Paradise : Part 3

2007-05-03T11:13:00.000+05:30

Although we had to turn our backs on the beautiful river, the safari was far from over. We still had an hour’s drive through the forests before we reached the resort. We had hopes of seeing more animals, although it was getting rapidly dark. We saw many langurs scampering up and down trees – they would be sitting on the forest floor, but would run up the nearest tree as soon as they saw us. These langurs were clearly not as fearless as the ones we had seen at Kanha.

We were also surprised to see a herd of Indian Bisons grazing – bisons are usually very shy animals, they try and make themselves inconspicuous by hiding behind large bushes and in thickets, which is very cute and quite ridiculous, because their size makes it impossible for them to be inconspicuous. I remember an incident that happened a few years ago. I was traveling with my friends and we had to go through a stretch of forest. Encountering elephants and bisons on that road is quite common. So much so that vehicles, sometimes, will have to stop to wait for elephant herds to cross the road. Presently, we came across a huge bison grazing by the roadside. We stopped the car to observe the bison for a while. The bison was facing us – and when he saw us he slowly turned and hid his face in a bush nearby. It was so utterly comical - because we could still see his entire body and he seemed to think that he was hiding from us. :-)

Whenever I have spotted a bison it has always been a lone bison grazing silently in some corner, so I was quite surprised to see a whole herd of bisons. What was more surprising was that these bisons weren’t shy at all. We went quite close them and yet they went on grazing silently. It was an overwhelming feeling to watch these calm, unassuming giants at such close quarters.

Pleased with the sightings, we moved on thinking what a safari it was! Suddenly, we heard violent swishing of leaves and the guide pointed to a tall tree nearby. There, to our immense surprise, was a Malabar Giant Squirrel, a frisky, feisty, furry little thing, sliding up and down branches. Really, it was so quick that we could hardly see its limbs moving. It was as though it had roller skates on! These arboreal acrobatics were being performed at about 25 feet above the ground, so we had to crane our necks completely to get a clear view. Seeing the giant squirrel was one of the most memorable wildlife sighting I have ever had, probably because it’s such a rare animal (found only in South Indian forests) and also because it was quite unexpected.

We reached the resort, with elated hearts, more than content at what we had got from the safari. However, lack of sleep on the previous night and relentless traveling through the day had given me a bad bout of headache, so I was forced to go to bed early and hence missed the wildlife film that was shown in the evening. I felt a little sad when I realised that they had shown a film on tigers of Pench. Anyway, that was that. It was a very gratifying day and I really couldn’t complain.

Kabini - A Wildlife Paradise : Part 2

2007-04-28T08:50:00.001+05:30

The scenic beauty of Indian forests is mesmerising during winters, when the monsoon rains would have breathed life and energy into the vegetation. Every inch of land is splashed with various shades of green, thus providing the animals with plenty of food as well as camouflage. For this reason, if wildlife sighting is the topmost on one’s list, winter isn’t probably one of the best seasons to visit forests. (Not to ignore though, the serenity and the euphoric feeling that winter visits to forests fill you with). During summers these very green forests turn completely brown – the trees looking like wooden posts and shrubs reduced to a bunch of dry twigs. This provides an excellent opportunity, however, to view wildlife out in the open – provided one is prepared to brave the heat and dust.

That is what we realised when we set out on safari that afternoon. As we drove just outside the gates of the resort, we looked around only to see the brown lifeless tree stumps on a dusty yellow background. The long branches looked like formidable spines and formed barriers and I wondered how animals walked amongst them. Not even ten minutes had passed, when we suddenly came across a young male elephant standing amidst the trees. Our joy knew no bounds as we hadn’t expected to see such a magnificent creature so soon into the safari. We hadn’t even entered the forest proper, so to speak!

But this wasn’t all – we were in for tons of surprises as we drove further in. I wasn’t totally right about the forest not being picturesque in summer. We saw that a few trees every few yards, exhibited bright yellow flowers all over them. They looked rather like bunches of grapes and what made it more interesting is that the trees had shed every single leaf they had. This made the trees look like blazing torches and they quite literally lit up the entire place! Kitty was having quite a feast, her eyes devouring the beauty of these flowers – they happened to be her favourite flowers, she always wanted to have a tree of that kind in her backyard and as luck would have it, the Kabini forests seemed to be full of them.

We hadn’t even got over the excitement of having seen a lone tusker, when Tigga gasped out, signaling the guide to stop. We all peered in the direction where Tigga was staring and found there was a tiny little blue bird, which we mistook to be a ground thrush. But it was Tickell’s Blue Flycatcher. My breathing quickened. This was the first exotic bird I had seen in several months! What I didn’t know was, that this was just the beginning. I was going to spot more exotic birds in one day than I had in my entire lifetime!

Driving through the paths, we came across numerous jungle babblers, Brahminy kites, peacocks, racket-tailed drongos, parakeets, a Eurasian Golden Oriole, Flame-backed woodpeckers and lots of birds that we couldn’t even identify!

After an hour’s drive, we reached the riverside and to our astonishment, the atmosphere around the river was nothing like what we had been seeing for the last hour inside the forest! We were suddenly exposed to a bounty of cool, glittering water and carpets of delicious green all around! The edge of the water seemed to flocked by water birds. Quite close to us to were a Purple heron, a Grey heron and a woolly necked Stork meditating by the water. A couple of white throated Kingfishers sat on what looked like prongs of a tree stump. An Indian Roller sat on another. It was a really colourful sight to look at. After driving to and fro on the river banks, we came across a couple of elephant herds that were busy digging up mud with their forelimbs to shower themselves with. A couple of male elephants with huge tusks could be seen a distance away, feasting on bamboo shoots. The elephants seemed to be frolicking in the cool grounds with the abundance of water, which gave them a welcome respite from the heat and scarcity of food. Even the grown up elephants joined in the playful antics of the calves around.

Once the eyes got used to the majestic elephants being around, the presence of other little animals like the spotted deer and the Sambar deer came into focus. There were stags with beautiful antlers moving about gracefully. There were even a couple of wild boars quenching their thirst.

After a while, I felt quite overwhelmed with the countless species of animals that surrounded us! I have never seen a place so filled with animal and bird life and buzzing with activity! Every second presented a new species in front of our eyes. We didn’t know quite where to look. After glancing everywhere for a few seconds, our attention would go back to the elephants. We could never get enough of them! The sunset, although beautiful, disappointed us, as it signaled the end of our stay near the wonderful river. It was time now to turn around and drive back.

Kabini - A Wildlife Paradise : Part 1

2007-04-25T13:24:00.000+05:30

(After the detailed chronicle on our Kanha trip, I am now settling down to write about another wildlife journey into the jungles of Kabini backwaters.)

The Four were going wildlifing again - this time to the forests of South India. Since Kitty was to go abroad in April for a year, it was necessary for us to organise a trip before she left. And it so happened that April-May was the best time for a visit to Kabini, so we had little difficulty in choosing our destination.

The Kabini river flows through the forests of Southern India – it is just like any other numerous rivers found in the mountainous Ghats and the tropical forests of South India, however the advent of summer in April makes it a haven for wildlife and sets it apart from all other wildlife sanctuaries in the country. The Kabini Reservoir dries up bringing down the water level considerably. This turns all the land in and around the river into lush green grassy meadows, at a time when all the forests around this place are simply bone-dry! The rich vegetation and the ample supply of water attracts herbivores in large herds from all around! So, it’s little wonder that Kabini witnesses the largest congregation of elephants in Asia during April and May! Wildlife enthusiasts and photographers gather in hundreds at Kabini during the summer to witness this amazing phenomenon!

Half a day’s bus journey took us to Karapur, a tiny hamlet near the wildlife resort that we had booked for our stay. On reaching the resort, we were taken through the schedule that had been planned for us. We were to go on a safari through the forests and to the river bank after lunch. So we proceeded to lunch right away. The resort itself was located in a beautiful patch of forest and we were taking in the beauty of the landscape with eyes wide open and heads turning in all directions.

We were eagerly looking forward to the safari. A few friends who had been to Kabini before had spoken very highly of it, so we couldn’t wait to get on to the jeep and explore the forests.

The Thinking Blogger Award

2007-04-24T19:40:00.000+05:30

I am immensely grateful to Silke and Wolfgang for their kind gesture in nominating my blog for the Thinking Blogger award! It was such a pleasant surprise when I returned home after a short trip and found this waiting for me!

Hitherto I was completely unaware of the existence of such an 'award'. Thanks to Silke and Wolfgang, I not only feel appreciated, but I also get a chance to express my admiration for other fellow bloggers.There's a catch, though. I can only nominate 5 blogs when there are scores of talented bloggers hosting wonderful blogs! :-( I would be happy if I am given a chance to nominate 20 bloggers! :-)

Now about the origin of the award. Please check this link to know more.

http://www.thethinkingblog.com/2007/02/thinking-blogger-awards_11.html

My nominations for the Thinking Blogger award.

1. Wildlife gardener (http://ourlittlecornerofparadise.blogspot.com/), for sharing her immense knowledge about nature and gardening and also for her lovely pictures and her beautiful paintings. Not to forget, for her brilliant concept of wildlife gardening. Dear wildlife gardener, I am very grateful for all that I have been able to learn from you.

2. A Caribbean Garden (http://caribbeangarden.blogspot.com/), for the profound interest that Nicole has in gardening, nature, flowers and culture. I love the pictures of flowers and the information that she shares and also the pictures of cultural value that she gets from her travels!

3. Michael Brown (http://macroartinnature.wordpress.com/) for sharing his incredible talent, which in itself is an inspiration for photographers.

4. Mark Graf (http://www.grafphoto.com/wordpress/index.php), another talented photographer and a fellow nature-lover. Thank you for sharing your wonderful pictures and your immense experience with photography.

5. Crystal blur (http://aashraya.blogspot.com/) for her creativity and her incredible sense of humour. Thanks for making me hold my sides with laughter!

I wish I could nominate more people!

Silke and Wolfgang, you made my day!

A Newfound Interest

2007-04-14T07:26:00.000+05:30

Macro's the word! And I have started to think big!

For many years, I have played the part of a connoisseur, eager to appreciate good photography and beautiful pictures, without really feeling a desire to try a hand at photography myself. Even when I had the opportunity to interact closely with a photographer, I have been quite content to sit back and savour the beauty of the pictures. I am immensely grateful to my friend for having introduced me to the technical intricacies of the beautiful art and subsequently helping me to appreciate the subtleties of the art better.

Thanks to the very same friend, I was introduced to the concept of Macro photography which for the first time made me desirous of wielding a camera! I had seen innumerable close-up images of pretty flowers that my friend had made in the macro mode and the pictures seemed to have caught the resplendent beauty of the subjects perfectly in a frame. In my search for more such macro photographs, I came upon the website of Paul C Anderson, who amongst all other kinds of photography, has taken some out-of-the-world macro photographs of flowers and I was floored by the photography as well as the subjects of the pictures themselves!

I am now such an admirer of Macro photography that I am envisaging buying an SLR camera just so that I could have a specialised Macro lens to practise making Macro images (now, that is going to cost me two fortunes)! I am exhilarated about my newfound hobby, but I am facing a formidable list of expenses-to-be, in the guise of photographic equipment in the next few years.Meanwhile, I am trying to learn a few techniques with a compact camera. Here are a few images that I got in the Macro mode....

A Day in Bannerghatta

2007-04-10T17:54:00.002+05:30

After the Kanha trip, Tigga and Scotchie went on several all-boys trips to different forests, and since Kitty and I hadn’t been able to participate in any of them, we were eager to find a chance to go “wildlifing” soon. After much discussion, we realised that the boys couldn't fit in a trip with us in their busy schedules, so Kitty and I decided to go on a trip of our own!

We zeroed in on Bannerghatta National Park as it was very close to our city. I feel extremely lucky as Bannerghatta is just a 30-min drive from where I live! Kitty and I rode down to the park one morning - we started quite early to make sure we get there while the animals were still active. I am glad we did that, because we spotted a lot animals moving about and playing - I was delighted to see groups of sloth bears playing with each other.

Though the park is a small one, it was wonderful driving through the park, spotting tigers, lions, bears and bisons and cute little birds too! I even had the good fortune of taking a few pictures of these fantastic animals!Tigga termed it as "my maiden photographic venture" as it was my first ever attempt at photography. :-)

It was a gratifying day indeed - especially the time we spent with the tigers! The tigers were chilling out in the pools especially built for them - it looked like a resort made for tigers! :-)
The pictures will probably express the thought better. :-)

Our Trip To Kanha - Part 11

2007-04-04T17:56:00.000+05:30

Until Next Time

We weren’t our enthusiastic best on the morning of our last day at Kanha, as the thought of leaving was the foremost on our minds. However, the pleasant surroundings of the forest prevented us from being depressed about it. There was no safari scheduled for that day since we were to leave at 11 in the morning. So we just idled the morning away by walking around in the premises of the resort. We were fortunate enough to see a young peacock walk about in front of our rooms. We gazed at the bird until it disappeared into the meadow. Langurs of all sizes surrounded us – on the ground, on the trees, on the roof , at the windows drinking water…..the misty gold-and-green meadow glittered in the sunshine, I looked at the trees that had formed a fortress around the meadow and thought of the pristine streams that flowed subtly through the grass and all the wildlife that lived amidst the beautiful wilderness and felt sure that I was going to sorely miss Kanha. Four months after our return from the magical forests of Central India, I think of it everyday and fervently wish I could go back to Kanha whenever the fancy caught me. I am eagerly waiting for the day when I shall return to the Nature’s Garden, until then I shall dwell on my memories of the wonderful time Mother Nature bestowed me with.

Our Trip To Kanha - Part 10

2007-03-27T12:27:00.000+05:30

UNSEEN PREDATORS

On our return from the elephant safari, we were escorted by our guide to the famous Kanha Museum. Curious at first, about what the wildlife museum had to offer, I found the place extremely interesting. There was a large collection of poster-sized pictures of most creatures (insects, reptiles, birds and mammals) found in Kanha. Here we learned the names of a couple of birds that we had spotted on our safaris but had failed to identify. The posters also had detailed descriptions of the creatures and their living habits. There were various rooms dedicated to different classes of animals – displaying their pictures, life-like models and some skeletons too. There was also a room dedicated to the topic of Tiger Conservation with pictures of the different tiger species (including the Java, Bali and Caspian tigers which are now extinct) and touching messages conveying the importance of saving the tiger (for our own good) from extinction. My eyes were moist as I left the room.

The evening safari that day was to be the last one of the trip. We drove into the forest with renewed anticipations. Our ‘new’ guide was chattering nineteen to the dozen, but was getting no response from either Kitty or me – he had annoyed both of us in the morning with his silly jokes and his constant chatter, so we were determined to ignore him (we weren’t exactly being forgiving angels). The boys, however, were being sweeter. Being ignored by us, the guide would turn to Scotchie, hoping to get a better response, however Scotchie with his usual reticence clubbed with a not-so-great knowledge of the local dialect, limited his response to a polite smile. Not satisfied with this, he would turn to Tigga, who was the only one to encourage him to carry on with his self-appraising lectures. Needless to say, Tigga inadvertently invited murderous glares from Kitty and me for the rest of the safari.

The guide had had a message that a tiger had been spotted somewhere and our driver made no delay in getting to the place – there was a long queue of jeeps waiting when we reached. This time the tiger wasn’t just resting or eating – it was playing hide-and-seek, walking all over the meadows and being its elusive best. So, we were all left with no choice but to wait in our jeeps – hoping and praying that the tiger would be gracious to us and decide to cross the road and hence grant us an opportunity to forget ourselves in awe and wonder. About twenty minutes passed and there were no signs of a tiger. Meanwhile, we were enjoying the near-ground-level flight displays of a butcher bird (long-tailed shrike) and what seemed like a pipit, in the grass around us.

Suddenly, there was a commotion – somebody had sent a word that the tiger had walked a long way and had been spotted a quarter kilometer away from where we were waiting, so all the jeeps turned around immediately and started racing towards the spot. There was an air of excited energy around, with everyone wanting to reach first. Our driver too in his excitement reversed the jeep, only to lead it into a deep trench beside the road, before he realised what happened. We hopped out of the jeep with long, dismayed faces – this could mean only one thing – no tiger for us! By the time the jeep could be hauled back to the road, (which wouldn’t be very soon, as we were the only people left behind and help wasn’t handy) the tiger would have moved on. Despite much trying, the jeep just refused to budge. After what seemed like an eternity, a passing jeep noticed us and went to fetch help. Soon, there were jeeps coming towards us and all the guides and drivers got down to help our poor vehicle that had its rear wheel stuck in the mud. With their united efforts, the jeep was finally heaved back on to the road. Thanking everyone, we left the place and moved on, only to realise that the tigers and all the jeeps following it had vanished. We were disappointed beyond words. None of us spoke about it, but we were all inconsolable.

Luck evaded us for the second time that evening. As we were about to return to Log Huts at half past five, we drove through a thicket of trees. The sun hadn’t set but it was looking dark as the feeble light of the setting sun failed to penetrate the thick canopy. A familiar sound caught our ears – a “khurr khurr” sound which we had heard many times now during the last three days. It was the typical alarm call of a langur, warning everyone of the presence of a predator. We became alert at once. We looked around to see where the alarm calls were coming from, so we could track the tiger. It was coming from somewhere behind us, but before we could decide on whether we should turn the jeep around, we heard a furious rustling noise quite close to us. The langur that was giving the alarm calls was leaping swiftly through the branches and approaching us! As we kept watching breathlessly, the langur settled itself on a fifteen-foot high branch of a tree that stood just a few yards away to our left. But its screaming did not end, it went on calling out loudly and relentlessly – it seemed more like an SOS call than an alarm call. There was not a creature to be seen anywhere around and it looked like the langur was crying for help to rescue its own self from mortal peril. Despite all this, there was just no trace of a tiger anywhere. We thought that the tiger must be resting beneath the tree where the langur had perched itself and that was the reason behind its relentless screaming and also the fact that it wasn’t moving anywhere. A few seconds later a pair of Sambar deer came out of hiding from the right side of the road. By their looks, they had clearly heard the calls, but at the moment they seemed to be more wary of our presence than the predator’s. To our complete bewilderment, they slowly crossed the road and started walking towards the direction of the alarm calls! We whispered to each other asking if anyone had understood that behaviour. After much discussion, all of us agreed on the point that the deer were showing suicidal tendencies! Walking right into a place were the langur was begging and warning fellow-creatures not to get into, seemed a little too daft! Kitty was the most anxious of all, “Oh I just hope one of them doesn’t end up becoming the tiger’s dinner!” But the deer didn’t seem to care. They walked boldly, without a second thought into the thicket. Tigga had his own explanation for this phenomenon. He declared, “This Sambar deer pair is a role model for all tiger conservationists. They are as passionate about seeing a wild tiger as we are. In fact they are more passionate than us. They are so keen to see a wild tiger that they do not care for their own lives!” Kitty and I let out stifled giggles. Scotchie, however, glared at Tigga with a mingled expression of sternness and pity.

After nearly twenty minutes of waiting, there was no tiger to be seen. After all the drama we had witnessed from such close proximity, we had expected at least a glimpse of a tiger, if not a scene of a tiger killing a Sambar deer. The langur had become quiet as there were no signs of aggression from the invisible (to us) predator, but it hadn’t shifted its place. No sounds of a pouncing tiger, no signs of a dying deer struggling to escape the jaws of its killer. We decided to leave, knowing there was nothing more to come. We were still puzzled about the behaviour of the deer though. We kept wondering why they had displayed such unnecessary courage – ok, they were lucky and had survived, probably because the tiger wasn’t hungry. But the deer couldn’t have known that. We scratched our heads over it for a long time that evening, but couldn’t think of anything.

Several days after the trip, Tigga the genius, had a revelation! He put this theory across to me which seemed perfectly feasible. In our obsession with wild tigers, we had completely ignored the prospect of the presence of a wild leopard that day! That explained why the langur had displayed more-than-usual nervousness. A tiger would have been no danger for a langur sitting fifteen feet over its head, but a leopard with its expert tree-climbing skills would have preferred langurs for a meal than any other animal!So that explained away the behavious of the langur. Secondly, the beginning of the alarm coincided with the sunset, which indicated that the leopard must have just woken up from its slumber and set out (leopards being nocturnal creatures), thus catching the eye of the watchman-langur. Finally, it also explained the puzzling behaviour of the Sambar deer perfectly. Sambar deer are large animals weighing about 250 kilos – quite heavy even for a tiger. So leopards, being considerably smaller than tigers, wouldn’t attempt to hunt them. Knowing the predator was a leopard, the Sambar deer had shown the appropriate non-chalance that we had failed to understand. I was thrilled when I realised this. Though, we hadn’t seen the leopard, the thought that I was standing a stone’s throw away from a wild leopard, was exciting! But this experience has brought a new question to my mind. Hitherto, I had thought that the animals gave alarm calls to warn others of a predator, but I hadn’t thought that there were specific calls to convey which predator it was. How could the Sambar deer have known that it was a leopard and not a tiger that the langur was warning of. Do langurs or all the other deer-watchmen have different sounds to convey “Danger, there’s a tiger here” and “ Hey, watch out there’s a leopard”? I had never imagined that the alarm system of the wild could be this sophisticated, but if it were true, wow!

Our Trip To Kanha - Part 9

2007-03-22T08:58:00.000+05:30

TIGERS WITH A KILL

Early next morning, after the customary tea, we got dressed in an attire fit for a trekking expedition to the Himalayas. The experience of the previous day had taught us that the air, for the first two hours of the morning safari would be bitingly cold, although it turned warm later.

As we drove to the Kanha gate, we did not see our guide waiting for us – after a couple of minutes an older man walked up to the jeep and said he would be our guide for the remaining safaris. After a couple of minutes with this new, gregarious fellow, we knew we would miss our quiet, soft-spoken guide.

The morning was cold, as we had expected – nevertheless the forests were breath-taking. The grass was wet with the dew that blanketed it. We saw fluttering butterflies and sparkling spider webs on the grass – the meadows looked inviting. I had a good mind to get off the jeep and go walking through the grass! The grass blades were green all over, but brown at the tips – vast files of these grass blades, very strangely, gave one the illusion of looking at tiger stripes! I could, now, clearly understand, why it was so difficult to spot the tiger prowling in these meadows. Looking at a tiger, with its brilliant colour and vibrant stripes, it looks as though it would stand out in a crowd. I have found it difficult to imagine sometimes, how the tiger hides itself from its prey, in the wild, with such spectacular looks. I now realised, how easy getting camouflaged was! This also led to another revelation; that this was the tigers’ land. This forest was the home of tigers – custom-made for the tiger’s needs. The environment around had designed itself to suit the tiger’s life in every way. I woke up from the revelation with a shudder – realizing how little of the tiger’s land was left in the world.

We drove to the limpid stream we had visited the previous evening and stood watching the water birds bustling with activity. A red-wattled lapwing stood in front our jeep grooming itself, oblivious of our presence.

After a long drive through the gold-and-green woods, we went to the Canteen for breakfast, after which we were scheduled for an elephant safari. We hurried to the spot of the elephant safari, hoping eagerly to get a good view of another tiger today. The elephant that stood waiting for us today, was a different one – we got on to its back and set off on the tiger’s trail.
We had heard that a tiger had been spotted near by, so we were expecting another tiger having a peaceful nap somewhere. But not very far away,, when we finally caught sight of a tiger, we gasped in awe-struck surprise. We could see a tiger sprawled on the grass, gorging upon deer meat, its forelimbs firmly holding on to the deer carcass. We were looking at a wild tiger feeding on a fresh kill!

That wasn’t all! As were about to discover, there was more to come. More tigers, that is. When, we went closer, we saw that there was another tiger sleeping on the other side of the carcass and it looked as if it had eaten its fill and had retired to sleep with a heavy stomach. And, there was another tiger sleeping, obscure, hidden behind a bush. My mouth fell open in wonder! Three tigers together! Realisation dawned – they were siblings – three young cubs who had probably just learned to hunt by themselves. The young tiger that was eating was a male – we observed that he was struggling to pull flesh away, into his mouth. He ate with a lot of noise too – indicating that he was still an amateur. The one sleeping next to him looked like a female. She was in a blissful slumber and to our surprise, did not wake up at the sounds around her. She either ignored our presence or was too deeply asleep to know about it. However, the young male was clearly annoyed by our arrival at the scene. He seemed to think that we were planning to snatch his meal away – so he looked at us nervously. He growled and snarled a couple of times and after a few furtive glances resumed eating.

As we returned to Log Huts that afternoon, I felt an inexplicable ecstasy – having seen three young cubs, growing up to live in their natural habitat; living life on their own terms; hunting and feeding themselves; sleeping blissfully and fearlessly – it felt good to know that there were wild tigers and cubs, still living free. I don’t know how many more tigers will have that privilege in the years to come, but the tigers cubs I saw that day held out a beacon of hope.

Our Trip To Kanha - Part 8

2007-03-19T11:16:00.001+05:30

SWAMP DEER

After the morning safari, we returned to our lodgings, delighted and contented at having had a close encounter with a gorgeous tigress. It had been a freezing morning, but it was bright and sunny , by the time we ended the safari. We sat outside our rooms, chatting up about the morning’s experiences and as usual, looking at the pictures on the LCD screen of Tigga’s camera and praising his skills.

We were simply loving every moment of our stay in Kanha. Most resorts that we stayed in before, were located on the fringes of the forest; they would take us into the forest only on safaris – but here in Kanha, we were staying right in the heart of the forest and we were never once reminded of the urban world outside.

It was very common to see a doe or a fawn grazing on the meadow about 20 feet away from us - the langurs would jump on our roofs kicking up a pandemonium, tree-pies would chatter to their heart’s content, butterflies fluttering delightedly on the grass, whilst we sat sipping tea outside our rooms.

After lunch, we once again got ready for the evening safari. When we set out for the safari, our guide told us that he would take us to the area where we could see the Swamp Deer or the Barasingha, as they are called in India. Barasingha translates to 12 horns and the full-grown stags grow 12-pronged antlers. These Swamp Deer are typical to Kanha and as I mentioned earlier, they had had a narrow escape from extinction.

We drove through some very thick woody areas of the forest – it was about half past three in the afternoon, yet the paths were dark and cool, with no trace of sunlight. Tall bamboos were found everywhere and drongos flitted through the long branches, playing hide-and-seek with us as we strained our necks to get a good view of their black, slender bodies and their pretty tail feathers.

After a few minutes’ drive we reached a vast meadow and the guide told us that this particular meadow was inhabited by a large population of Swamp Deer. We felt the sudden change in the atmosphere as we entered the meadow, it was bright, sunny and hot with no sign of a breeze. We stood still, with the engine of the vehicle turned off, looking everywhere to see if we could catch sight of them. There was nothing at all – even the grass stood still and all was quiet. The guide told us that we would have to wait for sometime as it was too early for the animals to step out into the open. We could understand – it was scorching and it was only natural that the deer must be resting in a shady place.

After waiting for almost 20 minutes, the guide decided it was time to move on and look for them somewhere else. We turned back and were about to enter the dense woods again, when I looked back to see one last time and there! I found the head of a doe emerging out of the grass! I gestured to the others and whispered loudly to the driver to stop the vehicle. We turned back again and waited breathlessly. The doe was slowly moving ahead, amidst the grass, from our right to the left, her body emerging slowly as she moved on. In a few minutes, we saw to our delight, the head of a young stag with sharp antlers showed up. He started moving in the same direction too, behind the doe. We watched them silently for a while, they were very shy and had an inkling that they were being watched, so were extremely slow in their movements. They stood still looking in all directions, while they were being groomed by a group of mynas, seated on their backs. Having had a good, long view of these rare and pretty animals, we moved on in search of more.

Presently, we came across a small bridge, where we stopped and looked to our right to see a beautiful stream – the view was breathtaking! As we waited there, we saw flocks of different water birds – egrets, herons, lapwings and kingfishers, busy fishing in the quiet stream. I was discovering a new eco-system with a new set of creatures, every few minutes and it felt great! As we drove on, we found hordes of langurs, flocks of peacocks and a lot more birds. We returned at dusk, happy and tired.

Our Trip To Kanha - Part 7

2007-03-15T16:37:00.001+05:30

PACHYDERM GENEROSITY

As we disembarked from the howdah and got down to the ground, little did I know that I was going to encounter another touching act of generous tolerance from another animal in the next few minutes.

When I got down from the elephant back, I felt a little sorry for the elephant who had ferried us. I was convinced that it wasn’t exactly a pleasant job for the tame elephants to take people on their backs and approach wild tigers. Though, tigers and elephants hardly cross each other’s paths in the wild and don’t exactly pose dangers to each other, they both dislike each other instinctively - probably because each of them realizes the other’s potential and is compelled to grudgingly acknowledge it.

I especially felt sad for our elephant because in trying to get us a close view of the tiger, she had had a terrible fright herself. When the tigress had bared her jaws, she looked quite frightening – frightening enough to cause an elephant to jump. If I hadn’t held on to the howdah tightly I might have tumbled down to the ground, right in front of the tigress’s nose, which, I’m sure, would have been extremely annoying for the tigress.

I approached the elephant from the front and stretched my hand out to her to let her know that I wanted to stroke her. She did not shy away, so I felt a little encouraged. I moved closer and stroked her trunk gently and said in a very low voice (because I still wasn’t sure if the elephant was going to like me) “Hello, you are a nice girl, thanks for the ride, will you say a hello to me?” And to my immense surprise, the elephant very promptly lifted up her trunk and curled it up against her forehead – a gesture used by tame elephants (as taught by their mahouts) to greet a person. That was, unmistakably, a hello in response to my request! My first reaction was that of incredible surprise! So astounded I was at this, that I have no memories of what I did for the next 30 minutes. I was completely dazed. The elephant had let me approach her, had let me stroke her, had understood what I said to her and responded! The elephant had been extremely sweet and I found it very hard to believe what had happened just then. As we drove back to Log Huts I kept repeating the incident to Tigga (he is very fond of elephants and always talks about how gentle and sweet-natured they are) and kept shaking my head in disbelief!

When I look back on the incident today, I regret not having offered any gift to the elephant (I didn’t have anything on me at that time).I had nothing to offer her as a token of gratitude for her graciousness towards me except a “thanks”. But what I regret even more is that I didn’t ask the mahout what her name was nor did I take a single picture of her! The elephant’s friendliness had completely taken me by surprise and turned me woolly-headed!

So muddled I was that I hadn’t entirely grasped the significance of the incident. Having had no personal encounter with tame elephants before, I thought that all tame elephants were this friendly. But what happened the next day on a similar situation, gave me a clearer idea of what the incident really meant.

We had another elephant ride the next day, which I shall describe in more detail in my next blog, however at the end of the ride, I repeated the same gesture of the previous day with this elephant that had carried us on its back. But this elephant did not approve of my friendliness at all – when I approached her with a stretched hand she immediately moved a step backwards and turned her face away - quite a clear message. I was not disheartened. In fact, this was what I had expected from the other elephant too on the previous day. It is perfectly natural for anyone to feel uncomfortable with strangers – and animals should be free to show their willingness to be friendly or their shyness towards new acquaintances. Having received my message, I backed off to the jeep; however this incident was as enlightening as that of the previous day. I realised that not all elephants are alike – each individual has a personality of its own, has its own likes and dislikes and its own behavioural patterns.

My thoughts went back to the previous day’s incident and I realised more strongly than before what a sweetheart that friendly elephant had been! I felt extremely grateful to her for having given me a spiritual experience that I would love to have once more, but on second thoughts, these experiences probably come only once in a lifetime.

Our Trip To Kanha - Part 6

2007-03-14T19:46:00.001+05:30

MEETING A TIGRESS

We settled down for breakfast in the Forest Office Canteen opening the packets of sandwiches and boiled eggs, thoughtfully packed for us by the kitchen staff of Log Huts. Kitty and I were munching away happily, relishing every little titbit – this habit of ours had led Scotchie to nickname us as “the Hog pots”. Halfway through the breakfast, the guide rushed in to tell us that he was going to arrange an elephant safari for us as there was news that a tiger had been spotted by some jeeps close by. We had to cram in the rest of the breakfast and hurry out to the jeep after hearing this delightful bit of news.

The jeep took us to the spot and there were a couple of elephants ferrying people into the interior of the grasslands to help them get a view of the tiger. We craned our necks to see if we could get a glimpse from where we were standing, but to no avail. As we got down from the jeep there was an elephant with the mahout waiting for us – it was my first time on elephant back so I was feeling a little awkward. It was a tall female elephant that stood patiently waiting for us to climb on to her back – there was space enough for four people in the howdah.
The elephant lumbered on as we nervously held on to the railing of the howdah. A few metres into the tall thick grass, we saw orange-and-black stripes stretched on the ground. This was exciting – we were looking at a wild tiger in its own habitat – in a forest! The feeling is indescribable – no matter how many wild animals we see wandering in a forest, nothing conveys the spirit of the freedom of wild animals with as much force as a wild tiger does! A tiger with its unparalleled dazzling beauty moving in a forest, with an attitude that can put rock stars to shame, with a grace that makes all beauty pageants look utterly worthless, gives one an insight into the true beauty of nature!

As we stared without batting our eyelids, we realized that it was a big tigress lying down in the grass enjoying her siesta. Now we knew why we couldn’t see the tigers from the road – if the tigers lurked about or slept in three-foot tall grass all day, there wasn’t a chance of us spotting even the tip of a tiger’s tail! Only if the tigers were kind enough to come on to the mud track where jeeps drove, was there a chance of people spotting them.

The tigress lying in front of us – lifted her head and opened her eyes a bit as she saw our elephant approaching. She threw an irritated look at us and continued to sleep. The presence of an elephant made her uncomfortable but she seemed to know that the elephant was harmless. After the elephant moved a couple of inches closer the tigress thought it best to be in a position which would enable her to quickly spring into action if required – so she moved from lying-down position to a seated position – she looked just like a sphinx – her forelegs stretched in front of her and the same serene look on her face. Something happened in the next few seconds that took us completely into the hold of the tiger’s charm. The elephant that was awkwardly shuffling about made a little swishing sound on the grass which startled the tigress a bit and she turned suddenly in our direction and bared her jaws with an ever-so-soft growl. This, in turn, startled the elephant who nearly jumped out of her skin in fright! This totally unnerved us for a few seconds but the consolation came from the tigress herself. When she realized that the elephant hadn’t tried to threaten after all, she once again threw a disgusted look at us, then promptly turned, closed her eyes and dozed off in a second. The quick transition from the frightening growl to a peaceful snooze in seconds completely charmed us. The tigress was behaving in an extremely endearing manner - the level of her tolerance towards other creatures astonished us! I was watching everything speechlessly and was vaguely aware of whispers of “Beautiful! I can’t believe it!” from Tigga who was sitting next to me. He was clicking pictures at a feverish pace.

After a few minutes with the tigress, we moved back to the road. As I got down from the elephant I was still thinking of how tolerant and sweet the tigress had been with us – calmly enduring us even though we weren’t exactly friends. Quite the opposite of our own behaviour when we encounter creatures we do not know and trust. I shudder to think of our behaviour towards animals – even the ones that we know are harmless – let alone dangerous predators like tigers and leopards. This tigress was the epitome of patience and tolerance and behaved in a manner that was only preached and hardly practised among humans.

Our Trip To Kanha - Part 5

2007-03-14T15:04:00.001+05:30

IN SEARCH OF A TIGER

Early next morning, we were woken up by a knock on the door. Our host had got us hot tea at five in the morning. After savouring the delicious-as-ever tea, we freshened up and got ready for our first ever morning safari. We dressed up in warm clothes from head to toe – the temperature outside was teeth-chatteringly low!

Owing to the Fantastic Four’s urban laziness, the driver was kept waiting with his jeep for 15 minutes past the scheduled time. Boarding the jeep, I took a sweeping view of the forest around. It was still dark and I could see the moon shining in the sky. When we drove into the meadows, we saw sheets of thick mist lying heavily on the plains.

The sounds of the early morning were like music to our ears – birds were calling out to each other, there were slight rustlings of leaves as invisible animals moved about in the dense foliage around us.

The guide took us to a particularly thick patch of forest and waited there for a while. He would guide the jeep ahead and gesture to stop the jeep every few yards. When the vehicle stopped we felt the absolute stillness of the forest. The atmosphere was calm and soothing and the occasional interruption of the stillness by the birds chirruping and cooing strangely did not disrupt the silence of the woods.

The guide would keenly wait for any sound that would direct him to the location of animals. Suddenly, we spotted a vibrant-hued jungle fowl that disappeared into the bushes in a few seconds. Further ahead, a big, grey jungle cat crossed our path and vanished into the trees before our senses could react. There were sharp whispers of “Hey, Jungle Cat!” from all of us followed by an exchange of happy glances and broad grins.

More food for the eyes as the day moved on came in the form of beautiful landscape with sunlight streaming through the canopy of trees, gold-and-green grass gleaming in the sunshine, spotted deer strewn over the landscape, large groups of peacocks walking in the meadows and birds of all colours and shapes fluttering everywhere.

Our guide, however, had only one thing on his mind - to track the elusive tiger. He was intently listening to find out if there were any alarm calls by animals to suggest the presence of the predator anywhere.Whenever he heard a shrill, sharp “Kkkyow” – the alarm call of the deer he would ask the driver to take us forward in that direction, to search for the tiger. The tiger is a very silent animal. It hardly ever brings attention to itself by roaring or growling. So the only way for its prey to alert themselves to its presence is by appointing “watchmen” in their own groups. These “watchmen” give out typical alarm calls warning everyone of approaching danger. Forest guides use this to their advantage to track the tigers in the wild.

Some distance into the forest the guide pointed out a tree to us. It was a tall tree and the bark on particular part was peeled away considerably. The guide told us that it was the handiwork of a tiger. It had sharpened its claws on the tree. We were speechless. The patch of the tree where the bark was peeled was about 12 feet above the ground! We were imagining the tiger standing on two legs, stretching itself and sharpening its claws on the tree, but 12 feet! Phew! Unimaginable! The act was so adorably like that of a house cat, but infinitely bigger in magnitude!

A few metres away from this tree, we found a different set of prints left by a tiger. On the mud track, there were clear, fresh pugmarks of a tigress and her cubs. As we tried to recreate the scene in our minds, we realized that there were at least three cubs jumping and running all over the place around the mother, as she stood there for a while. The guide discerned from the freshness of the marks that the tigress was here only ten minutes before we arrived on the scene.We hoped and prayed that she was still lurking around and would be kind enough to show herself and her cubs to us. Unfortunately, that wasn’t meant to happen and we drove on to the Kanha forest office to get some breakfast for our hungry stomachs.

Our Trip To Kanha - Part 4

2007-03-13T21:49:00.000+05:30

FIRST SAFARI

The gates of Kisli opened for us to let us out into the forests - at the same time a man in khaki uniform got into our jeep and sat next to the driver. He was to be our safari guide.

As soon as we got out of the gate, the guide pointed out to a high branch on a tree and said “That’s the Indian Roller”. We all looked up to see a colourful little bird sitting in the shade. I was thrilled – we hadn’t even set out for the Safari and we were already getting to see rare creatures!

We moved on into the large golden meadows – the grass seemed to be ablaze under the bright sun, all was quiet and there weren’t any signs of large animals, owing to the heat. We were looking all around with expectant eyes – after a few minutes we realized that we would have to wait till the sun went down a bit, to be able to sight animals. They all were probably resting in the shade in a remote corner. I looked all around to take in the landscape and I was amazed at the vastness of the grasslands – far away I could see a dense group of tall trees. As we moved on I realized that Kanha was a beautiful blend of dry and wet grasslands, woodlands and hills covered with shrubbery. It was incredibly picturesque. I decided to blink my eyes as infrequently as I could.

As it became cooler and darker, we saw herds of spotted deer emerging out of the grass and coming on to the roads. Langur groups were quite common on trees, meadows, on the roads and literally everywhere. As we approached streams and huge water holes, we saw a lot of water birds like egrets, herons, storks and kingfishers. We wandered around for some time until suddenly we saw another jeep approaching us from the opposite direction and stopped next to us – the two drivers exchanged updates and we gathered that the people in the other jeep had spotted a sloth bear! The four of us exchanged excited looks. The other driver explained the location and the directions to our driver, who revved up and sped towards the spot in frenzy! When we reached there, we saw several other jeeps on the meadow. Word had spread rapidly about the bear and everyone like us had arrived at the spot to get a look. Disappointingly though, the bear hadn’t waited for us. Nevertheless, the sun looked glorious from where we were standing and we gazed at the horizon for a while before resuming the safari.

We returned at six – it was already dark and fast getting cold. We assured the driver that we would meet him at six in the morning for the next safari and alighted from the jeep. We relaxed for some time, chatting up about the safari. The evening was warning us about how cold the night was going to be. Tigga took some pictures of the night sky and we joined to review the pictures and generously give out our opinions about them.

Night set in – fast, thick and cold. Our tired bodies dragged themselves to the beds and fell fast asleep before we could say ‘Good Night’.

Our Trip To Kanha - Part 3

2007-03-13T14:28:00.001+05:30

ARRIVAL AT KANHA

After driving on for three hours, we stopped at a roadside resort called Highway Retreat, where we were about to experience our first taste of Madhya Pradesh cuisine. We ordered for breakfast – parathas and masala tea. The hot parathas and the spicy flavoured tea were lip-smackingly delicious. Kitty made up her mind to eat nothing but parathas for the rest of the days we would spend in Madhya Pradesh. I nodded in agreement to what seemed to me an extremely favourable idea. Scotchie, a tea-lover, resolved to up his daily quota of tea by at least another two cups, for the remaining days of the trip. I wasn’t too keen about this idea, though. I was struggling to down the tea that was served in a colossal cup – I wasn’t sure that I could drink barrels of tea in a day and sustain the load on my stomach.

After breakfast, we continued our journey on the weather-beaten roads. A couple of hours later, we noticed that the trees were becoming denser and groups of Rhesus macaques were sitting by the roadside - the first signs of an approaching forest. We were puzzled. We knew that Kanha was still a long way off, but here were the signs of a forest close by. We got our answer in seconds, in the form of a signpost that pointed left towards a path that lead to Pench Tiger Reserve! In our excitement, we had, until then completely overlooked the fact that Pench was situated on the way to Kanha.

Pench Tiger Reserve, although a much smaller forest than Kanha – with an area of 750 sq.km – is in no way less picturesque. It was here that Rudyard Kipling derived inspiration to create Jungle Book – this was the land of Mowgli, Bagheera the panther, Sher Khan the tiger and all the vibrant characters of Jungle Book. This Kipling country now shelters many endangered species of animals including tigers and leopards. Pench came into the purview of Project Tiger as recently as 1992. Tigga was excited beyond words – he forgot all about Kanha and wanted to drive left – towards Pench. We consoled him saying that we could plan up another trip to Pench alone, some time.

We reached Kanha at noon. We arrived at the Khatia gate of the national park, through which, we drove to Kisli where the resort was situated. We were delighted to see that Bagheera Log Huts (that was the name of the resort) was located right in the middle of the forest. We were escorted to our rooms that oversaw a meadow and the forest beyond. We were welcomed by a group of langurs that were sitting on the steps leading to our rooms. They were totally unperturbed by our arrival and after a brief stare at us, looked away, nonchalantly.

After completing the initial activities of relaxation, we proceeded to the dining hall which was a few yards away from the rooms. Lunch, a sumptuous feast, was as delicious as the day’s breakfast, which we hadn’t yet forgotten. Presently, a man in dark green attire walked up to us and asked us to sign a few forms (necessary to allot a jeep for the safari). He explained that our safari was scheduled for 3:00 pm that afternoon.

Tigga got his photographic equipment – a Nikon D50, an 18 – 70 mm lens, a 70 – 300 mm telephoto lens and a tripod – ready for the safari. As promised, the driver (for that’s who the man in the green attire was) was ready with his jeep at 3:00 pm. We hopped on to the jeep, more than ready to explore the beauty of the magical forest around us.

Our Trip To Kanha - Part 2

2007-03-12T17:29:00.000+05:30

ARRANGEMENTS

With all the scuttle and scramble for planning up, booking tickets, getting our leave applications approved and worrying about other nitty-gritties that seemed like mountains at the time, we had hardly given ourselves time to think about the excitement that would accompany the venture we were going to undertake. But now that all the arrangements were almost complete, we sat back and started imagining about how it would feel to be in Kanha.

We had several reasons to choose Kanha as our wildlife destination. Kanha is one of the largest national parks in the country, spread over about 1900 sq.km, right in the heart of India.The other forests and parks that we had visited before appeared tiny in comparison. Also, Kanha is well-known for its scenic beauty with its vast, beautiful meadows, thick growth of tall Sal trees and dense patches of bamboo strewn all over. The most attractive feature for us, though,was that Kanha was one of the largest tiger habitats of India!

Kanha national park was formed in 1955 by merging the two major forests - Hallon and Banjar of Madhya Pradesh. In 1974, Kanha became a part of Project Tiger, an intiative taken by the Indian Government to save this beautiful animal from extinction. The finest accomplishment of Kanha, though, is the saving of the Swamp Deer from extinction. From just 60 swamp deer in the world, Kanha helped bring up their numbers to 1200 by 2006!

In the last month and a half that were left before we embarked on our journey, we read up as much as we could about Kanha and the places in and around, about the animals that inhabit the region, and talked and discussed of nothing but Kanha all the time! The wait appeared long and never ending!

By the 3rd of December, we were an excited bunch - I for one, had my heart pounding all day. I couldn't believe that our dream of going to Kanha was being materialised after all. (We had been wanting to go to Kanha since two years). The four of us reached the railway station in the evening, carrying our backpacks and hunting for the right platform. We boarded the train, which was scheduled to leave at 8:20 pm and settled down together in the seats reserved for us, with hope in our minds and a glow on our faces.

We spent the long journey to Nagpur chatting up about the days to come and what to look forward to, Scotchie and Tigga were incessantly chatting up about various topics. Kitty and I were busy with our books, but we joined in their discussions from time to time.

We reached Nagpur at 4:00 pm the next day. Because we had reached so late in the day, we could not continue our journey to Kanha immediately. Nagpur is roughly 250 km from Kanha and would take at least 6 hours by road and the national park would close its gates to all vehicles by 6:00 pm. We had thought of this before, so had decided to spend the night in Nagpur and resume travelling early next morning. But getting accommodation in Nagpur wasn't as easy as we thought it would be. There were numerous hotels in the town but what we hadn't anticipated was that our date of arrival in Nagpur would coincide with the beginning of the Winter Assembly and all the politicians of the country would lande up there and occupy all the hotels!

After much searching, we found ourselves in a small room in a hotel in some corner of the town - this after assuring them that we would spend only one night and would clear off before six in the morning. Apparently those two rooms were booked for the next day from 7:00 am. Pretty close!

We woke up early next morning, hurriedly got ready and went out at 6:00 am to find a Toyota Qualis waiting for us at the doorstep. This was my first experience in person, with M P Tourism's exceptionally sound service! The car was sent by M P Tourism to ferry us from Nagpur to Kanha.Though, we had spoken to a representative of M P Tourism and got this arranged beforehand, I was pleased with the promptness and the efficiency displayed. The driver helped us get our baggage on to the car and we started off right away on our 6-hour journey to the beautiful park!

Our Trip To Kanha - Part 1

2007-03-11T11:55:00.000+05:30

A RESOLVE

(As I expressed in my earlier blogs, my trip to Kanha was the most fulfilling excursion I have had. The tour gave an enormous boost to my interest in wildlife and nature.In this series of blogs, I am setting out to describe the days and my experiences of our tour to this magnificent national park.)

One fine morning in August of last year, one of my friends declared that he had decided that he would go to Kanha in December. He said it with such a firm determination that I too found myself earnestly sharing his resolve.Allow me to introduce this friend to you a bit - he is an ardent lover of tigers, firmly believes that the tiger is the most beautiful creation on earth and so consequentially is irrepressibly passionate about tiger conservation. So, in this blog, I shall refer to him as Tigga. I am sure he'll be pleased by that. :-)

Moving on to the other two friends who were involved in this trip - one, a very sweet girl who never ceases to be enamoured by the cuteness of young ones of all animals - particularly those of the cat family. She bursts into a torrent of affectionate exclamations when she looks at pictures or videos of kittens and cubs and can hardly contain her delight when she looks at live ones. So I shall refer to her as Kitty. She is bubblingly enthusiastic about nature and wildlife.

The third person in the group is the quietest of the lot. He loves forests and wildlife as much as the rest of us and is even more fascinated by adventure. He is also very supportive of Tigga's enthusiastic plans of wildlife tours, however impractical they may seem, on the onset. I shall call him Scotchie (affectionately nicknamed so, by Tigga). :-) Together, the four of us, form an earnest group of wildlifers - Kitty and I tease our own selves by naming the group as the Fantastic Four!

Our decision to travel to Kanha certainly needed a lot of determination and efforts, as the park is situated in the State of Madhya Pradesh in Central India - about 1500 kilometres (nearly a 1000 miles) from the city where I live. The distance posed several different problems to us - booking the tickets and accommodation, chalking up itineraries needed a lot of planning, it was going to be expensive and we all needed to apply for a holiday-leave at work for at least a week and that was obviously the most difficult part.

However, all these difficulties dissolved into nothing with more ease than we had thought could be possible. Now, when I look back, it almost seems miraculous.And thanks to the help extended by Madhya Pradesh Tourism, the task of planning up was cleared up too.Of course, with organised planners like Tigga and Scotchie with us, I needn't have worried.

Finally, we got the railway tickets and the accommodation booked online, for the 5th of December by the second week of October (45 days in advance). Now we were all set and raring to go. All that was left, was to wait for the 5th of December to come along.

The Enchanted Forests

2007-03-09T16:05:00.000+05:30

Forests, I always believe, have a magical atmosphere. There is an enchanted feeling while one is in a forest, where the calm serenity of the wilderness pervades one's mind and soul, compelling one to shut all distracting and disturbing thoughts out. Amidst the silence of the forests,one hears a calm lullaby that is played for all creatures within, to soothe them from fears and anxieties. Paradoxically enough, the lullaby of the forest does not put one to sleep.On the contrary, it makes one as alert and keen as ever. The creatures that inhabit the forests are a proof of this - one moment they are calmly moving, going about their routine activities, another moment they sprint away into hiding as soon as their senses alert them of danger, displaying marvellous levels of reflexes.

Though the term 'forests' can apply to any kind of wilderness, the first thing that comes to my mind when I think of forests is lush greenery all around, with trees taller than my eyesight can reach, wider than five elephants stringed together in a row, bushes covering me till my knees and a cool breeze playing on the leaves and the grass, forming a soft music, which is more to be felt than heard.

This is probably owing to the fact that I was born in a country which is dominated mostly by tropical deciduous forests. Of course,it is a large country full of diversities with numerous climes and habitats strewn all over - I wouldn't even dream of counting the different kinds of habitats found in India - yet the tropical deciduous forests are the most common ones in South India, where I live.

Another factor that adds to the charm of the forests is the variety of fauna that inhabits them. The number and the variety of animals, birds, reptiles and insects that live in these regions is more than I can fathom - startlingly none of them can be seen (except for deer and monkeys) even whilst walking in the middle of the forest. Yet, the very thought that the forest one is walking through, contains thousands of species of mysterious creatures, even if they are unseen, itself brings a thrill hard to express.

It's relatively easier though, to spot wildlife near water bodies. Rivers, lakes, ponds, streams, waterfalls and waterholes exert a magnetic attraction for animals. Also, from an aesthetic point of view, water bodies add an enormous value to the beauty of a forest, which already looks and feels like a paradise.

I have always had a strong desire to live in a forest - I know the hardships that entail such a lifestyle - but the immense richness it provides in return - to one's mind, body and soul - in terms of serenity and a deep sense of calm and peace, overrides any mere physical inconveniences one has to endure.

Lives in captivity

2007-03-06T18:27:00.001+05:30

My grandpa and I used to follow a ritual every weekend - the ritual took birth when I was about five years old and lasted for a couple of years.Every weekend when the school closed at noon, grandpa would come to pick me up. (I would return from school everyday with mum, as she taught in the same school, however weekends were different). We would rush home to get a quick snack and I would hurriedly change into outdoor clothes and we would then rush to the town zoo!

The prospect of visiting the zoo was very exciting, as I, like all children, loved to look at animals. My eyes would be filled with wonder when I gazed excitedly at the colourful peacocks, chattering monkeys, long-necked giraffes, graceful tigers and lions, cute foxes, and fearsome pythons and cobras. This is where I actually learnt about all the animals. Coming close to these animals once a week made me relate to them when I read about them in books. It made me curious about them. I would want to learn more about their life and their habits. When I actually did read about them, I could understand what I read perefctly clearly as I could visualise the animals in my mind vividly.

Naturally, I always thought that zoos were a welcome gift to children as they helped them learn and come to love nature. I particularly loved the Mysore zoo which I would get to visit occasionally during vacations, because it has a large variety of animals - some of them which are not native to India. It was here that I first saw the Tapir, which is a native of South-east Asia and South America.(I am sure I would never have seen this amazing animal if it wasn't for the zoo.)

The Mysore Zoo also hosts some beautiful tigers - I particularly enjoyed learning their names and identifying them. The last time I went to the zoo, there was a large male tiger named Madhukeshwar (he looked absolutely glorious), a white tigress named Rita, three tiger siblings - two males Agasthya and Amulya, one female - Ananya. I loved Amulya the most - who despite his young age already looked big and powerful.

It was these tigers that made me look at zoos with a different perspective. After I overcame the initial emotions of awe, wonder and excitement at seeing these tigers at such close quarters, I slowly realised what miserable lives they were leading. Amulya looked young, strong and handsome - he looked all set to conquer the world, but unfortunately for him, he lived like a prince in exile for a lifetime.He was caged in a small cell all his life, let out once a week into a small enclosure that comprised a lawn with a couple of trees giving him shade from the hot sun. A tiger in the wild owns acres of forest and rules over it like a king.

I had also seen a beautiful white tigress in the zoo about three or four years ago. Smitha, as she was called, turned my opinion upside down about white tigers. I was always partial to the 'normal' tigers which looked very colourful and charming. I believed that white tigers were rather dull. Smitha was one of the most beautiful felines I have ever seen. I remember being delighted when I read in the newspaper one day (a few months after I had seen her) that she had given birth to three young cubs. I couldn't wait to go back to Mysore to see them. Imagine my horror and dismay, when a couple of months later I read in the newspaper again that Smitha had been killed by someone who had poisoned her food! I still do not know who committed this dastardly act or his reasons behind it. It may have been hushed up for all I know. But that incident brought tears to my eyes. I felt miserable knowing that I would never see the beautiful tigress again. What made me feel worse was that she was deliberately killed by someone who knew that she had young cubs to look after. It was, in all possibility, someone who saw her everyday. How anyone, who saw her even once, could have had the heart to hurt her, is beyond me!

The tigers of Mysore Zoo made me think of all the animals in captivity. They all are doomed, I realised, from the time of their birth to complete lack of freedom and space. They may not complain but that is no assurance of their feeling good about their conditions. Some may argue that lack of freedom is not as big a deal as hunger and starvation. But I beg to differ. To animals, who are born to live in the wild, freedom (to live naturally as they are meant to live) probably means much more than it does to humans. Some may even say that zoos at least ensure safety for the animals they look after. Anyone who wants to say that will only have to think of Smitha before they say it.The plight of Smitha is pitiful, to say the least. Life would have been so much more different if she had been a tigress of the wild. I do not venture to say that her life would have been less dangerous in the wild. I feel, she would have at least been free to protect herself from danger. She would not probably have been condemned to accept death on a platter.

It's a different matter that no animal stands any chance against poachers and no tiger can defend itself against murderers of the calibre of Sansarchand, but that's the topic for another blog.....

The Cute Brute

2007-02-25T18:59:00.000+05:30

This cute little birdie-boy is called the Long-tailed Shrike.Hmmm... not an enlightening name. He is also known as the Rufous-backed Shrike. Well, he would be called that, considering he has this brownish hue on his back. But he is also called 'The Butcher Bird'! Now that's something of a name for such a small, innocent-looking chap to have! It is surprising enough to know he has three long names when the bird himself is small enough for a grass blade to support.:-)

This little guy will never go through an identity crisis, for sure.

But why 'butcher bird'? The first thing to know to reveal the secret is that this tiny bird is not a humble little prey creature but a no-nonsense predator! He eats insects - nothing out-of-the-ordinary there, most birds do anyway. However,this bird catches insects hovering in mid-air or found on the ground and takes the little creature to the nearest bush and impales it on a thorn! The insect is stuck on the thorn like a soldier drives his sword into his enemy's middle. That ensures the prey's instant death and gets the dinner table ready.(Who says only humans have discovered the value of tools?...)

And that is how this little fella gets his infamous nickname!

A Birding Day!

2007-02-18T17:45:00.001+05:30

Boy, what a day! When I started out for work today (not with a lot of enthusiasm, I can assure you), little had I thought that I would have anything, even remotely exciting, waiting for me at work!

When I reached office, I went about the usual preliminary chores - setting up my desk, turning the computer on, checking my official mails and completed the routine of a team huddle. I then proceeded towards the break-out area to sip some coffee and brace myself for the day's work.While doing so, I was blankly staring out of the window at the few trees that dwell in our office premises. Suddenly, my heart started pounding! Something had caught my eye, and before my thought processes could start working, a voice in my head told me that I was looking at a bird and a rare one at that!

I jumped up from my seat, trying to find out if the voice was speaking the truth. Because, what my eyes had seen was a big patch of bright yellow colour amongst the leaves of the tree. I suppose instinct told me that it couldn't be a flower as I know that this particular tree does not produce yellow flowers. I peered in to see more clearly.

There it was - a bright yellow bird, with a thick black streak across its eye and black colour on its wings. I was too excited for words. For a few seconds, I didn't know what to do! Here was a rare bird I had never seen in my life, presented before my very eyes when I was casually sipping coffee in my office! About thirty seconds later, the bird flew away. I had a feeling of immense satisfaction of having sighted an unusual bird.

I walked back to my desk and started hunting for the name and details of the bird on the internet. I had a vague, speculative feeling that it must have been a Eurasian Golden Oriole.I finally found what I was looking for on www.kolkatabirds.com. The bird was a Black-naped Oriole. A shy bird, it is usually found in open country and parks but hides in the upper canopy of tall trees. I was very happy for having spotted such a glorious looking bird, however, I was now seriously regretting not having a camera.

As I walked back to the same window during my next break, I looked out towards the tree, wistfully hoping to find the same bird or some other rare bird this time. But there was nothing. My eyes wandered over the other trees, over the garden, on to the lawn......hang on! there was a tiny little bird on the lawn pecking at something and hopping all over! Again, I hadn't seen this bird before! Oh this was exciting!!This time I could guess that I was looking at a bird of the Wagtail family. It had a small slender body, with a long tail. The plumage and the head were black, but it had two white streaks like eyebrows over its eyes. The underbody was completely white.A couple of seconds later I found its partner hopping closeby. I observed the two little birdies pecking away at the ground for some time. I then rushed back to my desk and repeated the same procedure of rummaging through websites. I realised my guess had been right. It was a White-browed Wagtail. Aptly named indeed!

There were no more sightings after that (I was getting greedy by now, you see) but I was on top of the world! If I had sightings of two new birds every day when I was at work, I would declare my workplace as the seventh heaven!

Winged Wonders - 3

2007-02-14T17:57:00.000+05:30

Here are a few pictures of some magnificent birds, that a dear friend and photographer, very kindly allowed me to put up on my blog. Every one of these pictures demonstrates how unique each bird species is. I have chosen these pictures particualrly, because every one of these birds has a specific fascination for me owing to one or many of their unique features.
First from the left is a Eurasian Spoonbill couple who have built their nest on a lone bamboo branch on an island. The setting of the picture is quite remarkable and the birds themselves with the beautiful filaments down their necks are a sight to behold!

The next picture is of a White-throated Kingfisher, a comic looking guy with a tiny body and a large, strong beak. His distinct feature is the white patch on his throat. He is closely related to the Common Kingfisher, though fish is not his first priority. He prefers lizards and frogs and turns to fishing merely as a hobby!

The Median Egret - a very common little water bird is quite plain looking with no characteristic feature that sets it apart.Only for a part of the year. It changes its guise during its breeding season by growing filamentous trimmings on its tail, as you can see in the picture. Looks exotic!

The next picture is of the Painted Stork and I especially love this particular picture which shows the bird fishing. Here, it has just gulped down a fish down its throat. What an assortmemt of colours this bird is - with a yellow beak and red head and pink feathers...!

The next picture of the peacock has a special appeal to me in the way its body colours have merged with the colours of its surroundings. Though it's something to look at a peacock dancing, the bird is a delight to look at even while it's walking or feeding. Its rich plumage and its delicate neck with its dainty crown makes me feel that it can only be the creation of an artist!

The picture of the River Tern crying out brings back memories of its sighting. We were out boating in the river when we approached a rock and found a female River Tern sitting in her nest and she cried out in terror when she saw us closing in.Within seconds, Papa Tern dived in from nowhere and started screaming out (as it can be seen in the picture) as if he was trying to scare us away. We took the cue and moved farther away from the rock but his screaming continued. And in a flash he was off on his wings and to our amazament, we saw in the sky the same Tern chasing off an Eagle! Oh, what a sight that was! There was a battle going on in the air, with the Eagle flying away as fast as his wings would take him and ducking and diving whenever the Tern came too close. The Tern, however was bent on getting the Eagle as far out from the place as he could! All this, when the Eagle looked twice the size of the Tern! Words could not find their way to my mouth!

The rose-ringed parakeet (in the next photograph) is contemplating a meal of the fruit in front of it. I can't decide which is prettier - the bird or the flower before it.

One of my favourite bird photographers is Vijay Cavale who has a website (www.indiabirds.com) dedicated to the photographs taken by him. There are stunning pictures of almost every bird found in the sub-continent and the animal pictures on the site are not less captivating! The first feeling one would get at looking at these pictures is that of amazement and wonder at the beauty of the subjects and the next feeling is that of a desire to take similar pictures oneself! I would consider myself truly lucky and previleged if I atleast got to see all those birds, photographed by this talented artist, with my own eyes, in the wild!

Winged Wonders - 2

2007-02-12T08:33:00.000+05:30

My enthusiasm for bird conservation and concerns about disappearing sparrows suffered a beating in my teens, what with having to strive for my own survival. For the last few years, I had not given a single thought to birds for months on end. It would have gone on for several more years, for all I can guess, had it not been for a few like-minded people that I was fortunate enough to make friends with. My love for wildlife was rehabilitated with the various trips we made to places of natural interest. My first such trip was to the national park in Nagarhole, and I was thrilled to be in such lush green woods, sighting herds of deer grazing everywhere. I could hardly hold my excitement in anticipation of sighting rare species of wild life which I had only read about hitherto.

Strangely though, sighting birds was not on my mind during our Nagarhole trip. (Just shows that even one's passions can take a backseat if one is out of touch with them for too long). It was nearly a year later when my friends (one of them, in particular, with irrepressible enthusiasm) started planning a trip to one of the biggest national parks we have - Kanha, that I realised this sudden impetuous desire to buy a pair of binoculars (to help watch birds). This was strange, considering that we had intended to make this trip to see wild tigers more than anything else. Kanha is one of the best places to sight wild tigers and the beautiful, rich nature of the flora of the region makes it a paradise for wild predators and thir prey. I had not, until then, read or heard anywhere about Kanha being a special place of importance for birds. It has been famous for its barasingha (for the conservation of which this park was set up in the first place) and tiger population and of course, its pleasant green meadows.

But something told me that a pair of binoculars in this trip would be indispensable. I had my mind set on buying a good pair which would suit my needs, preferably a 12x50. I couldn't for some reason manage to buy it before we embarked on our excursion and I was terribly disheartened. I tried to console myself saying that Kanha did not feature very prominently as a birds sanctuary, so I wasn't missing much. For all I knew we might not spot any rare birds. It might just turn out to be a Bandipur or Nagarahole, by exhibiting large mammals to the tourists and obscuring the little birds away from curious and excited eyes.

But Kanha had prepared a nice little surprise fro me alright. The measure of this surprise can be demonstrated by the fact that the first wild creature that the Safari guide pointed to us in Kanha, was the Indian Roller - a beautiful multi-coloured bird I had never in my life set my eyes on!And it didn't stop there, we shortly spotted a tiny black-headed bird perched on a grass blade, which I learnt was called a Common Stonechat. The next three days were flagged frequently by overwhelming sightings of Pond Herons, Egrets, Kingfishers, Treepies, Red-wattled Lapwings, swarms of peafowl, jungle fowl, storks, woodshrikes, rufous-backed shrikes (butcher-birds), vultures, spotted owlets and alexandrine parakeets. I had now forgotten all the sorrow of not having access to a pair of binoculars. I was too excited to worry about trifles.

The Kanha trip added a new dimension to my bird affinity. I now wanted to learn as much as I could about these Winged Wonders, to learn to identify them with ease, know their habits and lifestyles, and get to see them as often as I could. Upon my return from the tour, I promptly bought myself a book on birds of India and got down to study! 'Birds of the Indian Subcontinent' by Bikram Grewal and the legendary Ornithologist Salim Ali's 'The Book of Indian Birds' have now taught me how much more there is to birds than just being pretty colourful creatures. Truth be told,what are mundane living habits for these beings, are nothing short of miracles.What amazes me the most is that, birds have adapted every inch of their bodies for the amazing life they lead and taken evolutionary adaptation to one's habitat to the most extreme limits imaginable!

Winged Wonders - 1

2007-02-11T15:17:00.000+05:30

One of my oldest and the most dormant of my interests has been to be always in the vicinity of the most amazing and the most beautiful class of living creatures - birds.

I remember feeling exhilarated,(as a seven-year old), as a pair of sparrows nested in a ventilator of my house near the roof.Even as mum would complain that they were messing up the entire house by dropping twigs and dry blades of grass everywhere and being a constant nuisance with their fluttering in and out of the house an umpteen number of times, I would be very excited looking at the cute little birds flying inside the house. I loved the idea of tiny, fluffy young ones of the sparrows growing in their nest and I felt lucky that the nest happened to be in MY house!
I learned to identify the male and the female of the sparrow species under the guidance of mum.(With all her grumbling and complaining, mum loves nature!)

Another of my early memories is sitting in the backyard under the huge mango tree and craning my neck to spot any interesting birds that resided in the tree.I almost always managed to spot either a male or a female koel or a parakeet. Not a wide variety but that was enough to get me excited and I longed to live in a place that was filled with trees and plants inhabited by all varieties of birds ever found on earth.

We moved in, a few years later, to a house which was located, very fortunately, near a farm. In fact there were three farms in the vicinity, but one of them was situated right next to my house.I call this fortunate, however the position of the house posed a lot of hardships to us back then. Being on the outskirts of the town and in the middle of farms, the town corporation was still confused whether or not to build roads in this area. Though it wasn't exactly a rural place, the locality wasn't urban enough yet to justify the building of new roads.All the residents of that locality were compelled to leave their two-wheelers and four-wheelers at a kind gentleman's house which was situated next to the main road (a highway) and walk till their houses during the monsoons. The wet sticky mud would never allow even a light-weight two-wheeler to pass through. People trudged along with great difficulty with inches and inches of wet mud sticking to the lower sides of their footwear. But I wasn't complaining.I loved the landscape around my house and my interest in birds took a huge leap after we moved to this house. The farm hosted a much wider range and number of birds than I had previously been exposed to, which led me to learn a lot more about these wonderful creatures than before.

Watching egrets, mynas, drongos, koels, bulbuls and robins had become a daily routine. Getting close to these birds needed no effort as these always perched on the window sills, hopped around on the porch and were fearless, unlike the birds living in towns and cities. I would constantly visit an old disused well in the farm, which I had discovered, was a mini-ecosystem in itself. It had small and large fishes, water snakes, rats and mongooses living in and around it. The most interesting thing, to me, however was a large tree right next to the well, whose branches had stretched out horizontally, so as to be parallel to the mouth of the well. These branches,owing to their unusual and strategic positioning were a God's gift to birds who wanted to be safe from predators . These branches were full of nests built by weaver birds, and needless to say, I was awe-struck by the beauty of these nests. I also realised that these branches not just acted as a safe haven for some but also as a watch post for some other birds. This was when I spotted kingfishers perching on the branches for hours and diving into the well occasionally, attemting to catch fish.

As I reminisce my childhood experiences, I must admit that the days when I sighted such exquisite birds were undoubtedly amongst the happiest times of my existence.

Things changed drastically and definitely not for the better when I moved to a large city. Far from sighting rare and exquisite birds, I haven't spotted a single sparrow in the city in years. The only birds that seem to be thriving amidst the hideous noise and the grubby polluted streets of the cities are crows. I am glad that there is at least one species of birds that has adapted itself to the unpleasant changes in habitats. But what saddens me is the disappearance of the other birds, whose habitats have shrunk drastically. Forced to live in small patches of forests they may soon be pushed out of the earth into the doom of extinction. How would life be, I wonder, with all colourful birds expelled from the planet and dull, colourless humans clogging the world?