Hindustan Times ST (Mumbai) - Brunch
Humans in the wild
Are you a tiger chaser, or one who observes those who chase tigers?
“The rose bush has been chewed up by the sambar.” With these words we were greeted at my companion’s home in the Himalayan foothills as we entered Season 2 of our collective dystopia. A week later, I was doubly removed from the travails of our times, bouncing up and down in a weathered green Gypsy at Jim Corbett National Park. It was touch and go, with all kinds of heartache related to pandemic logistics. But I finally made it into the forest reserve, which is still blessed by the spirit of “Carpet Sahib”, as hunter, naturalist and author Jim Corbett was affectionately called by the Kumaon locals.
A capella otters
Humans are curious creatures at the best of times. In a forest reserve, they exhibit even more peculiar characteristics. e.g., an obsession with tigers. I too confess to being in awe of the magnificent creatures burning bright in Blake’s endlessly quoted poem. I’ve taken the mandatory pictures. Visited the key parks. Marvelled at their regal ways. Now, with a few sightings under my smug belt, I’m more interested in the tiger spotters.
Found in large numbers in any national park, you’ll recognise them from a certain hungry look in their eyes; a crazed focus on the striped, charismatic megafauna to the exclusion of all else. Point this specimen towards a newborn elephant taking its first steps. No response. A jackal leaping over a wild hog. Not even a gulp. A group of otters crossing a stream while doing an a capella version of a Lady Gaga song. Not interested. It’s all about the tiger; the rest of the jungle is merely a prop. Observing tiger chasers is now a perverse pleasure. They with their obscenely elongated camera lenses, head-to-toe camouflage gear and supercilious demeanour. Who saw what, from how close or far, doing what and for how long: daily hierarchies are arranged according to this prosaic catalogue. Yawn.
My sighting is better than yours
There’s another category of humans in the wild, which I’m even more intrigued by. The network of those in the know, namely the tour operators, guides and drivers. I’m never quite sure how to respond to this exalted group, considering they’re so high up on the social ladder in the forest microcosm. I envy their air of familiarity with the environment that makes everyone else feel like an interloper. Zipping about in the post-dawn mist, you submit to their superior instincts and vast reserves of information, which they release bit by bit, and only if they deem you worthy.
Even more envy-inducing is the banter between passing jeeps, when guides and drivers face-off, much like any two other well-matched animals in the jungle. This is when things get interesting for the ignoramuses in the back. I try hard to decode the in-jokes and decipher the smirks, but am only left guessing. Was that a “my sighting was better than yours” grin or a “no, really, I’m resigned to seeing nothing interesting today.” I secondguess everything my betters in the jungle do and say, trying to imbibe some useful wisdom by osmosis. Mostly, I’m looking for breakfast, a loo and network.
Checking for new messages
Yes, a good, solid data connection in the jungle is as rare as a tiger. Never mind if these days the 197 Whatsapp messages you receive all at once are related to the pandemic in the most horrifying ways possible. You feel terribly guilty about abandoning your clan at this most trying of times, and then turn your gaze towards the crested serpent eagle, whose couldn’t-care-less gaze is a timely lesson in self-preservation. You’re carried away by the light-headed cackles of the laughing thrush and the high-pitched hysteria of the brainfever bird. A barking deer darts across the path, but your senses are now trapped in a spicy, heady fragrance made up of flowering sal trees, Clerodendrum flowers and cannabis plants. Elsewhere, the devout chase tigers with a maniacal zeal.
Premature mornings, endless afternoons, strained necks, sore backs, cold showers, dank lodges, competitive fellow tourists – it’s all worth it in those golden moments when you plug into deep time and primeval space. Pro tip: if you play hard to get, the striped superstars might just come to you instead.
HUMANS ARE CURIOUS CREATURES AT THE BEST OF TIMES. IN A FOREST RESERVE, THEY EXHIBIT EVEN MORE PECULIAR CHARACTERISTICS.
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