Kanha Tiger Reserve, part of the Central Indian wild highlands, is located in the Mandla and Balaghat districts of Madhya Pradesh, India. Earlier divided into two sanctuaries of Halloen Valley and Banjar Valley, Kanha National Park now stretches over an area of 940 km². Together with a surrounding buffer zone of 1,009 km² and the neighboring satellite protected area, Phen Wildlife Sanctuary, it forms the Kanha Tiger Reserve. The park is famous world over for its rich wildlife; the charismatic Tigers, elusive Leopards, mangy Sloth bears, vain Swamp Deer or the ‘Barasingha’ and nasty packs of Dholes or Indian Wild Dogs. Along with two entrance gates ‘Kisli’ and ‘Mukki’, which are also the names of ranges inside, there is now a third entrance gate called Sarhi. The name ‘Kanha’ finds it genesis from the word Kanhaar which is a type of clay soil found around the villages that once existed amidst the forest stretches. Alternately, it is known to be named after sage Kanva who once protected all the jungle’s creatures in a time of peril. The lush Sal and bamboo forests, grassy meadows and plateaus of Kanha became the muse for Rudyard Kipling’s epic tale, “The Jungle Book”. This is the abode of the Seeyonee Wolf pack, lands where the elusive Black Panther – Bagheera, the convivial bear –Balloo and the hypnotic rock python – Kaa roamed free. The land where the atrocious monkey troupe – The Bandar log maintained havoc, where Tabaqui the Jackal betrayed and home turf of the legendary tiger Shere Khan.

Dr.Ruth DeFries of the Columbia University has a foundation that funds young students who intend to study and carry out research projects related to forests, environment and wildlife. This year, Vishnupriya and I were awarded the fellowship to study forest degradation in those forested areas around the actual core of Kanha National Park. The project, supported by Centre for Wildlife Studies, was being carried out with Dr.Krithi Karanth as our Project advisor. I had been longing to visit the central Indian jungles all my life. Finally, I was not only going to ‘visit’ Kanha, but also work there for two whole months – through January and February of 2010. My excitement knew no bounds.

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The Beautiful Baraf Villa

Vishnupriya and I took an overnight train to Nagpur in Maharashtra, which is around 270 kilometres from Kanha. After a quick lunch with my friend Ruchik, we took the hired cab and headed towards Kanha, munching on some delicious oranges that we had picked up from Nagpur. After a five and a half hour ride through fairly decent roads, landscapes around varying from villages, small towns and agricultural fields to visually pleasing teak forests in the outer limits of Pench Tiger Reserve, we reached the village of Mocha. Mocha village, where Dr.Ruth owns a house, is on the Kisli gate side of the park. Finding our way through the village roads late that evening, we managed to find Ruth waving to us, standing in front of the main gates to her mansion. A large green double gate opened into a long concrete driveway. On the right side was the caretaker’s house attached to a pleasant looking thatched outhouse. The rest of the driveway was surrounded by a large garden with a few trees and ploughed plots where the caretaker’s wife grew assorted vegetables. The mansion itself stood tall and wide, cream yellow in color. Large slopes of brick red coloured slate tiles stood in delicate contrast with the light coloured mansion. It was a beautiful villa. We acquainted ourselves with the place and with the rest of Ruth’s family who had gathered in the house for a big family get-together. We were thus put up in the outhouse. It was peak winter and Kanha was freezing over. The temperatures would drop down to around 2° Celsius at night. With very little furniture and hardly anything else in Ruth’s villa, it would get really cold. Hence, we decided to christen it ‘Baraf’ [Ice] Villa. The outhouse had nothing much inside. It had a rather large room with a big bed at one end and one spacious bathroom. Nonetheless, it had a homely feel to it.

The next morning, we saw the arrival of Meghna, the third person associated with our project. The team was now complete and the four of us planned and scheduled a reconnaissance for our transects. It was like a teaser for what we would be doing during the two months to follow. Like all trial runs, even this one was filled with a fair share of changes, modifications in methods, arguments and elimination of mistakes. The next day we were visited by Dr.Rakesh Shukla, the Research Officer of Kanha Tiger Reserve. He arrived in a hurry, beaming with enthusiasm. We met with him to seek permissions, directions and also plan out logistics. Within one brief meeting, he gave us the most comprehensive idea of the entire park. He truly left us impressed.

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Kanha: The First Look

Early next morning, while the air around us continued freezing, we woke up and rushed outside. No, we had not lost our minds. The gypsy that would take us on our first safari into the park had arrived at 5.30 am. Cuddled up in competitively heavy and thick jackets, coats and scarves, we sat in mighty eager and reached the park entrance. Trying to describe Kanha in words would be utter blasphemy, for the place is beyond descriptions. Yet, I shall make the best attempt to do justice. There was a permanent blanket of thick fog all around. The majestic Sal trees stood tall, with condensing dew pitter-pattering as water droplets fell from each leaf to another below. Creepers and lianas, tender and thorny ones alike, caressed and clung on to the massive tree trunks. A myriad of birds of every color had made cosy homes in the heavenly canopies. The numerous shrubs amidst the trees intimately embraced each other while creatures big and small dwelled inside. Dense bamboo groves adorned the landscape in various places, adding to the diversity. The rolling grasslands spread across vast stretches of elegant meadows, all with that very foggy blanket. The first rays of the Sun slowly showed up, gently touching the surface of the grass. It lit up the layer of fog above and we were surrounded by a golden haze. The little waterholes interspersed in the meadows shone under the golden rays of the Sun. As the Sun rose higher and higher, the towering Sal trees remained nonchalant, casting reticulate patches of calm shadows on the dense undergrowth below. With aesthetically scattered beautiful plateaus forming enchanting valleys in between, Kanha allured and captivated us with an unusual charm. It is indeed the most charming forest I have ever seen.

A Barking deer, standing coyly amidst the thickets welcomed us into the park. We drove further and reached the open meadows of Kanha. The Swamp deer or the ‘Barasingha’ strutted in vanity amidst the grass, flaunting their gorgeous antlers. The marvellous scape was heaven on earth. We saw two absolutely gorgeous Barasingha stags, lifting their heads up alternately and giving out their ‘rutting’ calls. Kanha is the only place in the world that has wild populations of Hard-ground Barasinghas. The drive continued and we were further charmed by herds and herds of Spotted Deer, sprinting and almost gliding over the grasslands. Up ahead, a couple of gypsies had lined up and the tourists inside were fidgety and jumping about. Our driver, like all other drivers, went and stacked the vehicle with the rest of them. To our left, amidst lush green bushes we spotted them. A courting pair of Tigers. They were at quite a distance, yet we could make out their brilliant golden brown and black striped pelage amidst the green streaks of the grass. The male, whose head looked massive, was indeed large and majestic. The female, although of the wild kin, looked oddly sophisticated. A radio-collared tigress, she was sleek and beautiful. She sat on the ground, adoring her mate, while he walked around her, spraying urine on tree barks and bushes. They occasionally got up, moved around and sat down together, nudging each other’s faces as they did. It was a sight worth a million bucks. But the stacked up line of gypsies attracted more and more vehicles from all around and we no longer felt comfortable being there. We drove away.

At the end of the ride, we visited the Kanha museum and interpretation centre situated in the heart of the park. It is a very informative and insightful enterprise that elaborates on every aspect of the national park and gives valuable information to the visitors. We then drove back feeling satiated. My first drive inside Kanha will definitely be treasured in memory.

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Mukki, Meghna and Muba Home

The week that followed, we were to spend on the other side of the park. We had booked for accommodation in a resort for the three of us at Muba Resorts, which is on the Mukki side of the park. It was late in the evening and the cab took us towards the little town of Baihar and further towards Mukki gate. We took a diversion from the main road and drove along what looked like deserted lands that had no lights for miles ahead. At rare intervals, a couple or two village huts stood grimly on either side of the road. But that’s about it. We drove through nowhere and finally reached the entrance of the resort. It looked deserted as well. Dim lights and a wooded gate, a tiny watchman who flashed the torch light at our faces and let us in and we drove through the serpentine path inside the property. Owing to limited budget, we had booked the less pricey ‘mud huts’. For the scary apprehensive first look of Muba that we got, it was a rather pleasant twist in the tale. It was built right at the border of the core-buffer area and thus the backyard was pretty much pristine forestlands. We fell in love with Muba at the very first look and it became a ‘home’ to us within the first two days. the mud hut was large and roomy. Beds inside were set up in a series one next to the other. The thatched roof behaved like a temperature regulator – keeping the insides warm in winter and cool in summer. Every morning, we opened doors to witness a fog covered patch of grassland in front. This was complemented by Racket Tailed Drongos and Rufous Treepies making noises in the woods behind. The staff pampered us with delicious food and treated us like we were from the royal bloodline. The place was pleasingly well kept. It was just meant to be ours, for, the very first night I found a garden lizard sitting on my pillow and later one day, a Wolf snake in the bathroom commode. We took random walks in the free time, paying visits to Tiger territories and Wild Dog dens in the Buffer zone. Wild dogs or Dholes are notorious canids that hunt in packs. Although they are adorable to look at and to admire, their habits are so nasty that they usually begin to eat their prey while it is still alive. It gave us an unusual thrill to look at tiny pug marks of wild dog pups on the wet mud near their den. The den was amidst a bunch of large boulders which had tree roots hanging down from the top. The entrance of the den faced a small serene stream. They must have had some luck in finding a good Realtor. Muba also brings back memories of Dr.Zafar Khan, the owner of the property and an uncontrollable wildlife enthusiast. A sparkle eyed, large-built man with a characteristic moustache; he was a born story teller. It seemed like his whole purpose in life was to excel at narrating convincingly entertaining stories. And he succeeded brilliantly at his skill. We spent many a memorable frosty night by the campfire where he narrated hilarious incidents from his life in the wild.

As an integral part of our project, Miss Meghna definitely deserves an ode. She is perhaps one of the funniest people I have met in my life. A first year PhD student under Ruth’s guidance, she hailed from Delhi. She was one of the typical and stereotyped Delhi girls. She had that floating accent and attitude, with slow and deliberate pronunciations for every word. Topping that was little trademark phrases of Miss Meghna, for example, “Hye Hye” with a raised eyebrow and a coy smile as a reaction to someone or something interesting. She was a delight to be with. She had bizarre thoughts and ideas. Being ‘normal’ was something she did not seem to know or understand. On our very first transect we got really late. It was getting dark and we were yet to walk back to the vehicle which was around 2 kilometres away. Vishnu and I panicked and paced back towards the vehicle, fearing naxallite problems since we were near the Chattisgargh side of the park. Our beloved Miss Meghna, until many hours later thought that we were running away fearing that Tigers might come out and attack us. She just couldn’t remember names. Places like ‘Jhalmala’ became ‘Chilbili’, ‘Chilpi’ became ‘Chilpa’, ‘Paraswara’ became ‘Paarsinaala’ and there were too many more to pen down. Being a couple of years older to us, she would treat me and Vishnu like we were little kids. Every night she would tell us stories before we fell asleep. The stories would be two or three lines long. It would be as random as it could get, about some chap called Dumpy Ahmed from Uttaranchal to her achievement in athletics, from secret recipes of vegetarian mothers giving their kids non-vegetarian substitutes to importance of SLEEPING in spite of airplanes and laptops. Although Miss Meghna stayed with us only for four days, she left a lasting impression in our hearts.

Jungle Cat and Mangal sutra: While on the Mukki side, Vishnu and I decided to go for a jungle ride in that zone as well. So we hired a gypsy from the resort and went on a morning drive into the park. Mukki left us even more speechless. It had comparatively denser parts and also, being the zone with higher lands, the Gaur herds had migrated to the Mukki side. I have always been in love with them and thus, the dozen and more sightings of Gaurs went much beyond merely satiating my craving. The morning ride that day, albeit pleasurable, did not stand out as far as animal sightings were concerned. We also took another ride the last evening before we left Muba at the end of that week. This afternoon ride was with a tourist guide Kamal, who managed to impress us with his astounding knowledge on animals, plants and history of the park. He knew the scientific names of almost every plant in the park. His knowledge on the the behaviour of animals was also commendable. I called this ride of ours Jungle Cat and Mangal sutra because the elusive Jungle cat crossing the road was the only animal that we saw, which was not a part of a couple. The other sightings, by default, strictly included couples. We spotted Barasingha couples, Spotted Deer couples, Sambhar couple, Wild boar couple, Jackal couple and a humongous Male Gaur with two of his mates. That pretty much sums up the mangal sutra part of it. That evening we drove to the top of Bahmni Dadar [read ~ Bum-knee The-aa-other] plateau, also known as the ‘sun-set’ point of Kanha. The top of the plateau offers a spectacular view of the entire national park. The setting Sun appeared like a blazing ball painted in vermilion red. And we drove away from Mukki and Muba for good; or so we thought.

Every facet of our stay on the Mukki side at Muba became too close to our hearts to be parted with easily. Our drivers Naval and Basanth, the owner of the cabs – ‘Bunty’– a scrawny looking twig of a person who owned half the town of Baihar, Vijay – the Manager of Muba whose affection for us was simply heartening, the sit-out and bridges over little streams at Muba resort, the extremely supportive Harsha – naturalist at Taj Kanha resort Banjaar Tola, the shops at Baihar and everything else that was a part of our lives for that one week. With a heavy heart, we bade goodbye to Mukki side and headed back to Mocha where an empty house awaited our arrival.

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Magic of Mocha

When we returned to Mocha, Baraf Villa was empty. Ruth had left along with the large family that had gathered. Only the caretaker of the house, Gyaani, his wife Yamuna and their two kids lived in a room adjacent to the outhouse. Everything seemed cold and hostile. We desperately missed living in Muba. The outhouse did not even have a table for us to stack up food stuff or equipments. The village itself was a little crazy. Every weekend, there would be a special Ramayan recital in all rural grandeur. Loudspeakers would boom with devotional songs repeatedly. The village mosque which was in close proximity treated this as a religious competition. The moment the Ramayan Bhajans came to a brief pause, the man in the mosque would start yelling out, also in the loudspeaker, his religious chant. So Vishnu and I had no option but to bear with this. As if all this wasn’t enough, one local tourist resort would play the same contemporary Hindi movie song over and over again. Thus, until around 2 am in the morning, we had to bear the blaring sounds of “Jai ram jai ram jai jai ram, jai sitaram jai jai sitaram..”, “Allah who akbar…Allah who akbar Allah…” and Atif Aslam howling “Teraa…hone lagaa hoon”, all at the same time. We were not really spared even during the day time. Gyaani had two little children, Sandeep and Sumit. While six year old Sandeep was a charming little angel of a child, his younger sibling Sumit was a two-year old terror. He just wouldn’t shut up. He would cry, yell and shriek all day long. After a tiring day’s work, we would return to the room only to hear Sumit screaming to his heart’s content in the background.

Slowly, we got used to it. And weirder still, we fell in love with it. We built a small table out of bricks and a metal sheet that was lying around. We familiarised ourselves with the shops and shopkeepers of the village. Everyone in the village, the Paan-eater and his son who owned the village dairy store, the owner of the grocery store whom we nick-named ‘three piece’ [he would wear a three piece suit everyday and sit in his shop for reasons best known to himself], the tailor who would photocopy our datasheets and everyone else around became our friends. They would greet us, smile at us and wave to us every time that we passed by. We had subconsciously memorised the Bhajans and we would hum along when we heard them. When Sumit began his lachrymal marathon, we would play songs on my laptop louder to combat the noise. We also often played with the two kids, their pet Rooster and the Langurs that occasionally dropped by. We made a home out of the Mocha house.

And before we knew it, January 2010 had come to an end.

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