Indiana

Imagine a wooden house built in the middle of a lush, green tropical forest, a wooden house on stilts to avoid flooding during the rainy season. Imagine this house overlooking a peaceful little brook that babbled along its merry way, its cool waters washing over beautiful, round, polished stones. Imagine being able to look out of your window every night to see all sorts of wild creatures - wild boars, deer, rhinos and even a Bengal tiger - coming to this brook which serves as a watering hole. Imagine living in this house in the middle of the forest, your only means of transportation - a herd of tame elephants that take you into the deep forests everyday, long before the sun rises. And youve imagined Paradise.

Though Ive been on many safaris since then, I think Jaldapara remains so close to my heart because it was my very first. I was young enough to sit in my fathers lap during our sorties into the forest. Imagine seeing Paradise through the fascinated eyes of a seven-year old and youve created magic for life.

Some of the most memorable incidents of the trip involved baby elephants. There were two that belonged to the herd of tame elephants. Baby elephants are natures equivalent of teddy bears, cute and clumsy, tripping over their own feet, inviting their sedate mothers to join in the rough and tumble by vigorously and enthusiastically pulling their mothers tails. The mother elephants showed the patience of mothers everywhere, gently swatting their wards, if they got too boisterous, but mostly ignoring their antics and even looking on indulgently.

Every morning, we would climb onto the backs of the elephants and set off into the deep jungle, pass through miles of elephant grass (they are called elephant grass because they grow taller than elephants). Our herd would pass through the glass silently, without displacing a single blade if you ever got a little separated from the rest of the herd all you would see was an undulating sea of green and hear only the swish, swish of the wind blowing through the grass. It was always exciting to wonder what animal wed stumble upon inside that kingdom of grass, would we run into a herd of deer, a leopard or even a tiger? After a while, we began to sense the presence of wild animals by the almost imperceptible way the elephants would suddenly move a little closer together, while the baby elephant (only one was old enough to come with its mother on the safari) would swiftly find refuge under its mothers belly.

The rhinos were always easy to find they were the only animals that charged through the elephant grass completely flattening it. We would often follow a trail of trampled grass to find rhinos, sometimes solitary, sometimes with babies. The rhinos here were a glossy black, unlike the grey, dusty ones Id seen in zoos. They were strong, beautiful animals, which (fortunately) chose to ignore our presence.

The elephant grass itself is not just tall and hard but edged with rows of thorns, which whipped around our legs, arms and face leaving scratches and lacerations, we carried proudly around, as trophies and we kids would sit down and count our "battle injuries" every night.

Wed return to the bungalow before the sun rose too high in the sky and after a leisurely meal, some of us would settle down for a well earned rest and others would head towards the little brook. It was not as brave as it sounds, because there was little danger of ever running into a wild animal at that hour for they came only during twilight and before day break. A little soak in the cold, cold water always left us feeling exhilarated. The aquatic life visible through the crystal clear water also kept us occupied for hours.

Then it was time for an evening snack before settling down on the balcony to watch the animals as they came down to the watering hole. Wild boars and deer were the most common visitors followed by rhinos. Some of our group claimed that they saw a leopard once, but it was more like a stealthy dream that disappeared from the edge of our vision even before we had caught a glimpse of it.

But we did see a tiger (my only sighting of a tiger in the wild). It happened just before day break, while we were all sleepily getting dressed for our morning excursion into the forest. of the world around, the almost complete silence that surrounded her. I dont remember who alerted us, but I do remember all of us standing huddled together in awe and humility as the majestic beast leisurely and delicately lapped at the water. The whole forest had gone completely silent, every creature around holding their collective breaths. The whole "vision" could not have lasted for more than a couple of minutes, maybe not even that but all of us who were there that day will not forget the magnificent sight till their dying day.

Later we learnt from our guides that the forest always goes eerily quiet when there is a tiger around and even though we faced the same eerie quiet a few times during our forays into the forest, we never saw a tiger again.