Remembering Munna

In the second part of the Remembering Tigers series, a tiger who has the word ‘CAT’ on his forehead and loves to walk in public.

Remembering B2

In this first of a series remembering tigers, presenting the only tiger I’ve ever seen who was a sage. B2.

The Tiger in the Cellar

Old Hag had an interesting story to tell me after a long time. And it has lessons in psychology.

The Orange Ghost Miracle

Nothing out of the ordinary: just one of those days when a miracle occurs and a ghost is seen!


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How does it feel to see a wild tiger?

So how does it feel to see a wild tiger? I could tell you that waiting for a tiger to emerge feels like watching raindrops trickle off a roofline while awaiting your beloved – a wistful longing fanned by sweet anticipation. But that wouldn’t let you know what it’s like to melt in your own…

Morning Blessing

The bounty of some days makes up for the drought of others, and on this day, another page of the Kinarwah chronicles was to be turned over for our reading pleasure. Just as we saw the Banbehi female off on the Banbehi Nallah Road, Vikas turned back to drive to Mirchani and then complete our…

Survivors at Sunrise

It was the last safari of the trip, an intentionally truncated affair, since we had a date to keep with an annoyingly punctual flight at the end of an 11-hour drive. 25 safaris, including 19 from the previous trip, had passed that year without a glimpse of Kankati’s cubs.  Back in May, the first-time mother…


My perch in the tree-house creaked. I sat heavily on my feeble rump, feeling in every breath the pangs of a bereaved man. “Old Hag knows the cause of your melancholy,” said Old Hag, who, turning around I noticed, was seated legs folded, roughly two feet off the floor in thin ether. “But let me…

A ‘Boaring’ Digression

One late morning at Sukha Talab, the Pateeha female, having watered herself and her two girls, had risen to a stately squat, ready for departure, when one of the cubs’ attention was diverted by a sound. On the firm conviction that it behoved him to investigate, the cub walked away from the water and positioned…

A Tiger’s Way

The wheels rolled into Rajbehra one searing afternoon, and we learned that one of the Jhurjhura cubs had taken throne on a rocky outcrop behind the dam. As I sat in brief contemplation, the following advisement from an eminent photographer cracked the silence at its seams: “Kaunsa lens hai tere paas, bhai? 300 hai, na?…

Portrait of a Lass

A rejuvenating shower reduced the summer blaze to a simmer. When the sky had run dry of cold tears, a freshness had flowered. A grey francolin, drinking its nectar, stood on a log calling oft, as though, through a broadcast of the pleasant status quo, inviting all parties concerned to partake of the toast. A…

The Black Star

In a wilderness in northwestern India, much closer than the sun, lives a star. He was born nine years ago not from a supernova, but his parents’ ‘Jeans instability’. Every morning he rises – to the occasion. And every evening he sets – the stage on fire. In between, he births new stars. Without dying….