There is magic in Todaba National Park. In this vast forest where beautiful animals and birds live freely. Where the majestic Arjun, Semal and Mahua trees have stood the test of time and the elements. In the rocky, loamy soil that lies beneath the tyres of the jeeps of visitors. Its magic has unfailingly drawn me to it over the past decade, twice a year.
Each time, I have returned satiated with new experiences, having learnt new facets of eco-restoration, revelling in sightings of wildlife, picking up nuances of human-animal co-existence and management. I have heard legends about tigers and made friends with forest guards and guides.
Over time, I have come up with my personal schedule of visiting Tadoba — Andhari Tiger Reserve, as the forest is formally named. To me, it is bewitching in every season, but winter and summer hold a special charm. As in the case of forest reserves, Tadoba National Park has a buffer zone, a core area, and a deeper, out-of-bounds area called Brahmapuri Forest Division (part of Territorial Forest), which is believed to have the highest concentration of tigers in the country, their numbers close to 40. There are nine gates to enter the buffer zone and six gates that permit access to the core area.
In addition to the early morning and afternoon safaris, the park has, of late, introduced night safaris and overnight stays inside the buffer zone at Machans. The night safari experience is magical although the chances that you will spot a big cat then are rare. The overnight stay at Machan is special, despite it not being very comfortable.
A mother teaches her cub to mark their territory
Jharni with her cubs.
Maaya, the ‘Queen of Tadoba’
Sachin Tendulkar waits eagerly for the cubs to arrive
Winter typically coincides with the birth of tiger cubs, when tigresses are super protective of their offspring and tend to be almost hostile. The father usually abandons the tigress and the cubs after they are born returning to his hunting grounds. It is left entirely to the tigress to bring up the litter. The mothers are completely engrossed in looking after her offsprings and keeping them safe, becoming almost reclusive in the process, completely devoted to bringing up the cubs. I am fortunate enough to have witnessed rare sightings of mothers and cubs several times over the years.
Unfortunately, the survival rate of tiger cubs is low and juvenile mortality is high. A litter usually consists of two to five cubs but only about half make it to adulthood. Even at six months, the cubs are completely dependent on their mother for food and protection.
Over time, as they grow older and more self-assured, the mother emerges from her well-hidden hood with them, teaching the cubs the ways of the forest — how to hunt for food, protect themselves and find their way about the unmapped territory.
Sensing the cycle
Having visited the reserve several times, I am beginning to get a hang of the yearly schedule of these majestic creatures, sensing the time the mother emerges from her reclusive state to give her cubs the lessons of life.
This year, my mental diary was bang on. When I visited Tadoba National Park earlier this month, it was practically raining tigers. I didn’t listen to my friends when they insisted I accompany them to the core zones. Instead, I opted for nine safaris in the buffer zone and just one in the central zone (Tadoba Lake), completely avoiding the core.
Since March, I had been getting regular messages from the forest guides from the Nimdela and Ramdegi buffer zones that the tigresses had started emerging from hiding with their cubs.
For the first time since my love affair with Tadoba began, I sighted 21 tigers on my morning and evening safaris of the reserve. Never before in my life have I sighted so many tigers in various stages of their life cycles in such a short time.
My sources in Tadoba, some of whom I have known for several years, informed me that Chota Matka (the vibrant and youthful son of Matkasur and Choti Tara) had mated with three tigresses — Bhanuskandi, Babli and Jharni — giving birth to 14 cubs out of which 10 had survived so far.
The star of the core area, Maya, had produced five litters over the past 12 years or so. I have seen this graceful and camera-friendly tigress growing up since she was a cub. On my visits, I have watched her emerge confidently from the dense undergrowth and pose daintily for the photographers. This has earned Maya the sobriquet “Queen of the Jungle”.
The other surprise waiting for us at Tadoba was the visit of Sachin Tendulkar with his family, distracting my friends from their usual muses and making them focus their lenses on the star cricketer.
There is a local saying in Tadoba — whoever visits the region once keeps returning again and again. Well, I am proof of that. I did say there was something magical there.
Shiladitya Chaudhury is a communication consultant and a restaurateur co-owning popular brands Oudh 1590 & Chapter 2. His passion for wildlife photography takes him to the remotest of jungles
- Cameras used:Sony A7 (Mark 3 with 200-600 lens) and Sony RX10 Mark 4