I

It is still dark. Dark enough for most people to be afraid. Especially in this neighbourhood. It is the not the sort of place where a person would want to be sauntering around in the night. For someone kicked out of his home, it is best that I lay low in these unknown parts.

A while later, the breeze picks up. And with it wafts in the smell of fresh food. Smells like sambhar to me. It seems coming from around the corner.  Looks like this is going be a good day and a belly full of food. Haven't had much luck of late and the pickings have been lean. Time perhaps to take a risk.

--

It is dawn. And time for a mother to get to work. It is not easy being a single mother. Not the least in this country. Not when you have three hungry mouths to feed. A breeze is blowing. It carries the smell of food. Smells like sambhar to me. Looks like this is going to be a good day. A belly full of food and a bosom full of milk. This meal doesn't come free though. I will have to earn it.

--

Seventy minutes later

--

This sambhar is good. Fresh, warm and full of flavour. Such meals don't come everyday and this one was hard earned. An hour of toil and physical grind. It was worth it - for I need to recover my strength to take care of my babies in this harsh world on my own.

--

There was only one serving. And she got there first. If I want that meal. I will have to fight for it. She isn't going to let go of it so easily. But luck is on my side. I am young and fit. She is tired after her hard labour. Yes, this is my chance.

--

Fifteen minutes later

--

I am licking my wounds. They aren't so bad but what's more important is that I lost to HIM. My own flesh and blood stole my food and didn't hesitate for a second. For all I know he would have killed me. All for some sambhar? This is indeed a cruel world for a single mother. But then, I live to fight another day. That is how it has been for us mothers forever.

--

The sambhar is yummy. Warm, fresh and full of flavour. My nose hurts a little. Mom still packs a punch. But a man has gotta do what he's gotta do. After all, nothing is more important than the next meal. Meals like these are hard to come by. The world is changing - the world is shrinking. There aren't many places I can go. My kind can be shot for pleasure. Or poisoned for stealing a man's property. It is indeed a cruel world out there. But soon I'll be gone for good. Along with all 1500 odd of my kind.

--

July 29th is International Tiger Day. There are less than few thousand of these magnificent creatures left on Earth. And every day we lose more. Losing them does not mean the loss of a circus attraction or the stuff on Animal Planet. Losing them means losing the last of our dwindling forests. The last of  this planet's lungs. Tigers and other large predators are important for maintaining balance on this planet. If they go - we will follow them soon into extinction. 

Believe it or not. It is true.

The 21st Century Tiger Hunters

It's 0500 and the knock on the door gets louder by the minute. Jhandu, fresh and beaming as ever is ready with the morning chai. Even before we take the chai, there is a question for him - 'Kaunsa zone mila hai?' (what zone have we got today?). 'Zone 1' he says - and with that answer even the piping hot cup suddenly feels like an ice cube.

Zone 1 in Ranthambhore National Park is not exactly known for bountiful tiger spottings. Among the 5 main zones, it is the shortest and has only one resident tiger who shows scant respect for lines drawn on a map by man. Dejected, we drain our cup empty and start packing the cameras and water bottles. We dress to blend in to the forest - browns, olives and greys. Even our camera lenses have camouflage covers on them to avoid unsettling the wildlife. In short, we are armed and ready.

Half an hour later, our Gypsy for the game drive has already arrived. Mercifully, the guide and driver are seasoned pros - well known to us. The buzz last evening has been that T-24, the resident male was sighted on a Sambhar kill in Zone 1. Suddenly, the prospects of sighting one of the park's more belligerent males look bright. We are raring to go, but there is a problem.

'Abey Goldy - kahan hai?' No sign of the big dude, and then a minute later he comes, thundering down the stairs like a raging torrent. As usual he spent too much time on the throne after dunking too many kebabs last night and as usual he gets an earful of playful banter.

The park gate is a 10 minute drive away, our indemnity forms are already filled. The government is not responsible if a tiger decided to have us for lunch now. At the gate we urge our guide to complete the formalities quickly and we are at Singh Dwar - from where the safari formally starts. We try and gather fresh news from the guard at the gate but none is forthcoming.

Our drive will take us past exotically named spots like Tooti Ka Nala, Kala Peela Pani and Dhoop Chowk. We give the first point a cursory check before heading on. Apart from the morning chatter of birds and rutting calls of Spotted deer the forest air has little to tell us. The trail is dead too - no pugmarks that would be of any interest can be seen. We soldier on to no avail.

At Kala Peela Pani we will have to turn back as the trail ends. At this very spot the previous season, we came face to face with T-24's mate T-39 in a memorable encounter. Kala Peela Pani is also a perennial source of water so the chances of a tiger coming this way are always high. So we wait.

At first there is silence in the Gypsy. We all listen to the jungle - A bunch of Alexandrine Parakeets on a Flame of the Forest make a racket. Unfazed, the Langoors on the nearby branches groom each other. Rufous Treepies look intently at us in hope of a meal. A Black Tail mongoose slinks hurries the trail and Sambhar graze contentedly in the distance.

The clock ticks, the sun climbs, patience wears thin. So we bully Sid - as usual. And then we turn to Goldy - as usual, who protests - as usual. Suddenly - there is deathly silence in the Gypsy. A Cheetal has called out in alarm. And the langoor are agitated too - their short, staccato cries have us reaching for our cameras. The ugly, loud brays of the peacocks  make us hold our breath. A predator is on the move.

The calling and barking goes on for nearly five minutes and our hopes rise with each one of them. The sound of engines breaks our concentration - other groups have heard the commotion and have come rushing. We frown - not wanting to share our 'catch' with anyone else. Someone in the other Gypsy mutters something - half a dozen glares are instantly directed at him. He cowers.

Something in the bushes dead ahead moves - our fingers tense on the shutter. A bunch of peafowl emerge in alarm, wings fluttering but our quarry is still hidden. We continue to wait.

Ten minutes go by - nothing moves. The alarm calls have died down. The langoors revert to their grooming. The peacock busies himself in the pursuit of amorous females. The Sambhar get back to their grazing. Our driver signals that it is time to go. We have to leave the park by 0930 hours or the driver and guide can get suspended.

With drooping shoulders we get back to Singh Dwar. There is another Gypsy there - its plate tells us it is from Zone 2. In it are a bunch of yuppies in bright t-shirts and Armani glares, looking as out of place as a suited banker in Calangute. But their ear to ear grins have another story to tell. They've spotted one.

Our driver comes back after completing the formalities. 'Noor and Sultan at Phoota Kot - 45 minute tak dikhe dono, paani mein the' - Apparently the yuppies managed to spot T-39 'Noor' with her cub Sultan in the water, and that too for 45 mins. Needless to say, the length of our faces had increased.

That afternoon, we are determined to get Zone 4 or 5 - so a barrage of requests are made and Jhandu arrives with the good news. Zone 4 it is - domain of the T-25 aka the 'Dollar Male', T-19 and that legend among tigers, T-16 'Machhli'.

This time, the right turns left from Singh Dwar and we make it a point to stop at Gullar Kui. There is a little pond there above which sits a Brown Fish Owl. A Brown Fish Owl is lucky - you see one, you see a tiger for sure (like everyone else, we too have our pet superstitions). And he is there, wondering why so many apes are pointing so many big tubes at him.

At Tamba Khan, the road turns right and climbs - steeply. There is a logjam of Gypsies and Canters which can only mean one thing. Yes there is a tiger - nay tigers. Apparently, T-25 and T-16 are hanging out together. The matriarch in the company of the young stud is like Rekha dating Hrthik Roshan for lack of a better example. No wonder there is so much commotion.

Suddenly, T-25 gets up and starts moving downhill. Vehicles jostle for position to catch a glimpse, but there is no room to maneuver on the steep slope. Tempers fray, engines rev but to no avail - he is gone. All that remains is Machhli, who has seen thousands of tourists come and go in her 15 years and more. She is least bothered and rolls over for a nap.

It doesn't take a minute for the traffic to dissipate then. Some with happy spotters, other's still waiting for a shot at our first tiger. But if we've learnt anything from the tiger - it is patience. So we head down to Tamba Khan and wait. There's plenty of bird life around to keep us engaged.

Half an hour later, a Sambhar barks. The sound coming from the cemented waterhole's direction. We rush, just in time to find T-25 step out of the water and vanish in to the thicket. Dang! We wait again. Soon there is another alarm call.

We spot movement in the bushes - it is a tiger indeed. But not 25, it is a female. Our guides are experienced and know where it is headed. The driver wastes no time in positioning us - the excitement makes us pant. As if we have been sprinting through the forest.

Soon there is another movement - we hold our breath. Not that we have a choice - the sight of Machhli heading right towards can have that effect. Our eyes lock, an inexplicable chill runs down our spine. A quad of camera shutters come to life in unison. The hunt, is over. The tiger has got us - again.

July 29 is celebrated each year as International Tiger Day

This post is dedicated to the Sambhar Twins, Sid, Goldy and Old Man - fellow tiger hunters and thorough 'gentlemen'