The year was 1290 . A crowd had gathered around a clearing, where broken down pillars marked the presence of an ancient temple, now long gone. A young boy, just 14 years old, leaned against one of those pillars, deep in thought. Then, he began speaking, and the crowd fell silent, listening to his every word. He spoke without any notes, translating the Bhagavat Gita, from Sanskrit, which only the pundits knew, to the language everyone in the village knew and spoke – a variety of Prakrit which developed into the Marathi language. Even as he spoke, one of the men in the audience realized how momentous this event was, and how important this composition would be. He began writing down the words the young boy spoke, and this composition was named by its author and composer, the Bhavartha Deepika – the enlightening meaning (of the Bhagavat Gita). Now, the ancient, holy text, was no longer restricted to the pundits, but accessible to all, understood easily by them, composed as it was, in their...
Our first encounter with the Tiger at Tadoba came after a long wait, but it was a
memorable one. Read all about it here before you read on.
Our hopes
were high the next day, but the clouds continued to hover, and the tigers
remained hidden. Once again, we alternately rushed through different parts of
the jungle, and waited at water holes and ponds. No tiger appeared. Drivers we
passed had suggestions, but none had sighted one yet. Our guide decided to make
a second round of the water holes, and at one, we found a crowd. A tiger had
appeared, but it had remained within the grass, and was fast asleep.
We wondered
at the sense and logic of simply waiting for the tiger to awake, and probably
disturbing it with all the noise that would be the inevitable result of
multiple jeeploads of people waiting. But our driver and guide were hopeful. We
should wait, they insisted, and we obeyed. The flies were especially irksome,
and I found myself wondering if the tiger was indeed still hidden within the
grass, or if it had moved away stealthily. Our guide borrowed my camera, and,
zooming in, showed me what appeared to be a slight glimpse of orange amidst the
yellow and green of the grass. The tiger was still here, he insisted, and we
settled down to wait.
 |
| Camouflage.. Can you see the tiger hidden in the grass? |
It seemed
to take forever, but it was probably just over half an hour. A slight movement
in the grass, and the tiger rose. He moved languidly into the open, walking towards
the lake.
He first drank his fill, and moved further, settling into the water.
He sipped now and then, taking in the surroundings, and
obviously the multitudes of people furiously clicking away with all the cameras
they had!
He seemed
to enjoy sitting in the water, and probably would have sat there longer.
Something however, seemed to disturb him, for he suddenly looked around, at the
other side of the lake.
At first, we didn’t see anything. Then, an Indian Gaur
appeared between the trees, heading straight to the lake. A pair of Cattle
Egrets preceded him, as if they were his heralds.
What would
the tiger do? Would we see a confrontation? Or would predator and prey drink
water together?
Even as we
wondered, the tiger made up his mind. He simply took one look at the new
arrival, and began walking out of the water.
Without a backward glance, he
walked straight out of the lake, and into the grass, and disappeared, not to
sleep this time, but go off elsewhere.
The gaur
simply walked to the lake, had his fill, and walked off too.
It happened
within a matter of moments, and the collective breath released was audible.
Everyone had obviously held their breath, hoping, probably wishing, for a confrontation,
or at least a photogenic moment, but it was an anticlimax.
“Which
tiger was this?” I asked our guide, and he replied “Namdev. He is one of the
older tigers here.”
“How
appropriate!”, was my first thought … It was a wise tiger indeed, one named for
a saint, who knew when to back off.
“But then,
all animals are wise!” was my next thought. They don’t attack for anything else
but food or fear, they don’t take more than they need. Above all, they know
when to avoid confrontation.
"How
different they are from us", was the next thought that entered, unbidden, into
my mind. We invade their territory, and with a complete lack of respect,
continue to disturb them, all for a thrill, or the prospect of a photograph to
show off. They tolerate us, and leave us alone. Yet, when they emerge into our
lands in search of food, we are the first to kill and maim. They live in
harmony together, preys and predators alike, each fulfilling their part in the
food chain, keeping the jungle and each other, alive. While we, even without
such basic enmities, continue to fight in the name of issues we have created
ourselves.
We call
them ‘wild’, but are they? Or is it we who actually are?
This is the third post in my series on my #summertrip 2015, and I hope to take you along with me as I recount stories from my month long trip, which took me across the country. To get an idea of all the places I visited, and what you can hope to read about, click here.
Related Posts:
- On Tadoba
- On the Summer Trip
Beautiful Beautiful photos. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThank you Tushar
DeleteHe must be very thirsty! I would have also done the same in the summer. :)
ReplyDeleteGlad you could spot a tiger on this trip. Excellent shots you have Anu!
Oh yes, Nisha! I felt the same. and thanks so much!
Delete