I hear the distant hustle bustle of the city fading as we enter the animal kingdom, the birds chirping to the afternoon setting, and nothing but the engine sound of our jeep. It’s a dirt road in the middle of a jungle, a natural reserve that is home to the majestic Indian tigers. The bumpy ride on this dirt path is anything but forgiving on my back. I’m not at all worried, the excitement of even sitting in this jeep is no less of a dream for me. Today I get to check it off my bucket list; a wild safari.
The dust is rising like smoke from the running tires and my mouth becomes parched from the after effects. The smell of wildlife opens up what seems like my seventh sense and I’m inhaling the smell of mystery and open wilderness and these animals I want to see in their natural habitat. I’m amazed by the vastness of this land, the mountains, the foliage and the rock formations that hide stories of the small creatures and the majestic giants that walked their path. The sun is setting and through the haze appears the unmatched beauty that attracts many to explore this jungle. It’s captivating and definitely mystifying.
I’m accompanied by my guide and the driver. He looks very generic, his brown skin shows how many hours he spends under the sun driving spectators. I’m most fascinated by my guide. She shares my mothers name and she is as fierce as she was. Her knowledge of this forest and the animals that reside here is enthralling. I listen in awe as she explains how to spot a tiger’s footprint and when it is fresh. She talks as if she lives amongst them, sharing habits and diet and patterns that set them aside from other animals that share this very surrounding.
This woman who resides in a village nearby, has small children and a house to feed but her love for animals comes first. It’s very noticeable, her love for these creatures just like me. The difference here is, she actually wears a uniform and gets to do what she loves. She tells her stories of the reality of trekking hours in search of those wild ones. I’m intrigued by her stamina for the waiting game and her watchful eye, how she directs the driver to our target. She knows all the moves they’re making and the ones they will make. Her appearance doesn’t match her personality, but I’m proud that a woman is sitting beside me. I catch pictures of the wildlife somewhat excited and a tad anxious as to what may approach next. We sat at times, silently, our eyes scanning the terrain and getting startled by every hustle of foliage.
We didn’t get to see a tiger directly cross our path, just in the faint distance. We saw its prey, and it hurt my feelings, making me sick to look at it. A cow lay dead on its side, the predator’s claw marks visible. ‘The tiger will be back’, she says confidently, ‘it doesn’t share prey with anyone, not even another tiger’. She comforts me, telling me it’s the cycle of life. I’m not one bit scared and as she commends me on my courageousness. She continues her stories of how the tigers invade the nearby villages on occasion as if they are harmless cats. It doesn’t trouble her one bit; ‘We are the ones that invaded their land so they have every right’.
As we head back, she apologizes for not being able to lure a tiger nearer. I tell her that just being here was an experience of a lifetime and to have this tigress beside me made this adventure worth the while.