Our mighty Himalayas have always attracted travellers and tourists from all over. From the barren landscapes of Ladakh to the rhododendrons of Sikkim, the mountains have commanded a long-standing, global following. Our beaches, right from Goa to Gokarn and Diu to Digha are much in demand for fun-filled, sunny escapes. Rajasthan is the last word in heritage tourism and the Taj Mahal continues to be a wonder of the world.
In all of this, one of the most underrated natural splendours of our country are our forests that offer a glorious peek into ecological wonders and biodiversity. And when it comes to forests, luckily, we are spoiled for choice. There’s the oldest forest reserve of Corbett in Uttarakhand and the world’s largest mangrove in the Sundarbans. There are forests like Kanha where characters like Mowgli from the pages of The Jungle Book come to life and the arid forests in some of the driest regions of Gujarat and Rajasthan that are steeped in royal tales of yore.
A common misconception is that you must be a serious wildlife enthusiast to enjoy the forests. This is far from true. I am no wildlife expert and wield no exceptional authority on either the flora or the fauna of forests. Yet, I have thoroughly enjoyed each one of my dozen jungle jaunts in the last decade, which have ranged from staying in tree houses in Bandhavgarh to lodges in Kanha and homestays in Ranthambore. And after every such sojourn, I have either come back with exceptional experiences or life lessons or both.
Here are some wisdom-laced whisperings I have learnt to tune into through my wanderings in the wild:
Patience
The Great Indian Hornbill makes for a majestic sighting
In the age of instant gratification, the forests re-affirm the virtues of patience and remind you that there is more to life than speedily changing gears. The forests invariably reward those who have the patience to wait with the most magical sightings. Our patience in Corbett, led us to my first and so far, only sighting of the Great Indian Hornbill. After three days of relentless and luckless safaris, our naturalist suggested that instead of going round and round in circles, we park our jeep close to the bird’s nest in the early hours of the morning and wait for the mother who was sure to come and feed her chicks. Ours was the only jeep to switch its engine off and quietly wait. We sat in our vehicle for an hour and a half, looking out of our binoculars without so much as a peep coming our way. And then, all of a sudden, we heard a whoosh and sighted the most magnificent bird ever, feeding her little ones with food in her long yellow beak through a slit in the trunk of a tree. We listened to the animated chatter of the chicks that lasted a couple of minutes until the Great Indian Hornbill decided to spread its wings again and take flight. I failed to capture either its landing or flight on my camera but it will remain etched in my mind as one of my most prized sightings in the wild.
Learning to listen
If you pay close attention, you can tune into the sound made by a solitary sambar when he stomps his feet to alert everyone to a predator
Our lives and sensory experiences have been taken over by visuals. We are bombarded with information of all types and at all times, much of which is visual. Food is as good as it looks, a wedding is as beautiful as its pre-wedding shoot, and holidays are fun only if the captures make for viral posts. Sound, for its part, is a much-reduced sensory sibling, particularly so in urban dwellings. But inside a forest, you can hear even a leaf fall and make a landing. If you pay close attention, you can tune into the sound made by a solitary sambar when he stomps his feet to alert everyone to a predator. You can catch the faraway hooting of a jungle owl and the incessant chirping of crickets as evenings deepen. Mornings come alive with unending, harmonic birdcalls and forests like Satpura and Pench in Madhya Pradesh fill you with a sense of peace with the sound of their gently flowing streams. You can even listen to your own heart going thud-thud at the sight of a mighty beast. Or simply tune into the vast quiet that often envelops a forest despite a throbbing ecosystem, turning silence into a beautiful, healing sound.
God lies in the details
The beauty of forests lies in the intricacy of their features, which require a close, curious eye
Every bit of creation from the tiniest bug to the gentlest butterfly, from the bulky Indian gaur (often confused with a bison) to the majestic tiger is sequinned with the most intricate, sometimes baffling detail. These are the very details that give every creature its unique look and behaviour. Paying attention to and learning about each one’s unique endowments makes you marvel at the range and depth of the natural world. Just like the human fingerprint, every tiger has a unique stripe; the deer shed their heavy antlers every winter, only to have new, velvety ones grow back; porcupines may be small and slow but are protected even from the fiercest of beasts by their thorns; sloth bears stand tall on their hind legs to look bigger and ward off predators like tigers. And if you thought that the world wide web is breathtaking in its intricacy, take a closer look at the web that a tiny female wood spider casts, all the way from one tree to another, a few feet tall and no less intricate than filigree work!
Journey over destination
When it comes to tiger spotting, the author feels that tigers are masters of camouflage and make sure to test your endurance and patience
One of the biggest life lessons that wandering into the wild leaves you with is to make the most of the journey, the ride, instead of being in a hurry to arrive at the destination. The most sought-after destination during safaris in Indian forest reserves is the sighting of the majestic tiger. I remember my very first sighting, about 12 years ago in the Kisli zone of Kanha, in Madhya Pradesh. As my naturalist of those three days said, we had been “trying for a tiger”. Though we had crossed fresh pugmarks again and again, the big cat remained elusive. My driver and guide Chowbey ji, however, made sure I didn’t miss out on the beauty of the forest in our chase for the ultimate sighting. He took each of my queries and delighted me with sayings such as, “Sau baras khade, sau baras gadhe, phir bhi na sade,” commenting on the longevity of sal trees. It is the chase that brings you closer to the maze of a forest with its many criss-crossing lanes and by-lanes, often broken by natural water bodies or tapering into slopes and bends. It is in the ride that one encounters breathtaking sunsets or huddles under a blanket to guard against the pure, morning forest air and catch sun beams that light up pathways. It is in the ride that one sees herds of beautiful spotted deer, gently grazing away or a primate family huddling together or a sacred Indian roller in flight.
Of course, a tiger sighting is the cherry on the wild cake. The forest authorities often give endearing names to the different tigers, based on their look or behaviour. These names can be Machli, the queen of Ranthambore, or the famous Collarwali of Pench or Maya in Tadoba, Maharashtra. Over the years, I’ve seen tigers fiercely marking their territory, chewing leaves to fix tummy issues or just majestically catwalking through a dozen jeeps, telling us who’s the boss in no uncertain terms. And here’s the most amazing part of a tiger sighting — no matter how many times you’ve seen one, the sight never gets boring because tigers are masters of camouflage and make sure they’ve tested your endurance and patience, before obliging you with an unforgettable sighting! And what if you return without sighting one. I will remember the words of my naturalist who said: “We’ll change track and try again tomorrow.” Lessons that can be applied to life, too!
Supriya Newar is an acclaimed writer and poet from Kolkata. Besides being a music aficionado, she is an avid traveller. She can be reached at connect@supriyanewar.com
