Not a tiger in the forest, not a star in the sky

Last time in Ranathambore, it was, “the tiger just dragged its kill towards the lake and we will go there now". And five jeeps full of eager tourists rushed to the “site" for a glimpse of the elusive predator.

This time in Sariska, “there is the warning call. The tiger may come here now.” And three jeeps full of talkative travellers parked beside a pond, expecting the yellow-and-black striped beast to just strut in front of them like a ramp model.

Neither then, nor now, I or any other “jungle safari" tourists saw even the tail of a tiger. Despite the insistence or persistence of the guides and the drivers who follow their trail patiently through the uneven reddish dirt tracks of the reserve forests.

Think about that rationally. Will you eat your food in front of scores of compulsive picture-clickers like me or in peace in the corner of some cave? And if you know a group of determined people are looking for your pug marks, stalking you like obsessed lovers and now waiting for you at a spot, will you not turn away and go somewhere else? I think the tigers are brainy enough to do that. I wonder then who are those people who, during the small window of a two-hour safari, find a tiger along with cubs strolling lazily beside their vehicle and upload photos in social media? Why don’t they buy lottery tickets?

I also wonder how sad the scores of spotted deer, or sambhar, or nilgai must be feeling when they hear people talking excitedly about “sightings" and never meaning them. May be that’s why they always look straight into your eyes, probably asking, “are we not good-looking too? Why do you search for the big guy only, instead of seeing the trees, the birds, us, or the fine web of the spider atop the shrubs, glittering in sunshine?”

Before you mutter “grapes are sour”, let me say that I not only had the experience of a tiger-less tour in Sariska this time, but also had the misfortune of encountering a cloudy sky after checking into a resort which specialises in astronomy and star-gazing. But I rarely feel unhappy during travel. I always find something to take home. Like a new interest in stars and planets, triggered by the education officer of that resort who taught us how to use planisphere, a map-like device to know the night sky. Or like the information that deep inside Sariska, there is a fort called Kankwari where Aurangzeb had once  imprisoned Dara (plan to see it next time).

If only, I had the same positive attitude towards office work!