Corbett's Land of Tigers (Part 1)

 As a child stories of the wild fascinated me. For a tiny throbbing heart the jungles were enigmatic lands shrouded in mist and mystic of creature that filled it with dread and amazement. Cuddled between the cozy arms of my grandfather as I slept peacefully, my childhood dreams were often flooded with visions of the dark forests piercing through which moon-white glazing teeth would emerge followed by the majestic face of a striped golden beast... Tiger. Afraid I was not but spell bound indeed I was. 

 

Man eaters of Kumaon

Visits to the book store near the government bus-stop with my grandfather every evening was customary, where he would chat long with his childhood friend "Dukan Baba" (as I called him, the owner of the book store), leaving this curious child to wonder into the labyrinth of numerous stacked books. The stacks were far taller than a six year old child and my bewildered gaze would scan them like a kid on a street scanning the city skyscrapers. Scanning lane by lane my eyes always would rest on a particular book... "Man eaters of Kumaon - Jim Corbett". Do tigers really eat humans? How big can this beast be to take away a man? How do people live in villages in the jungles when they know a tiger would take them? Curiosity danced wild in my mind. Those clinking coins in my pocket, a sum total of one rupee fifty paise were not enough to get me the book. And even I could not muster courage to ask my grandfather to buy me that. My eyes fixed on the cover of the book where an Englishman with a raise rifle faced fearlessly to a pouncing tiger, my mind raced to decided between wanting and sacrifice. 

Moments later I came to my grandfather jumping with joy and we headed back home as the night had fallen. That day, when the shutter of the bookshop shut down one book was missing from it's shelves... that one book lay secretly hidden beneath my pillow as I slept on it, it's stories seeping into my dreams. My lust for Jim Corbett and tigers had won... and one sin added to my life, I had stolen that book. This is how I was introduced to "JIM CORBETT".

To Jim Corbett Finally

Nineteen years later I was aboard a train to Delhi with two of my friends, Ashis and Sai to visit the land whose tales had framed my perception of Indian tigers and it's forests. Corbett's land of tigers... Jim Corbett National Park, Uttarakhand. Early winter chill floated in the heavy Delhi air when we got down of one train at Delhi Railway station to board another standing three platforms away. With no time for dinner we just grabbed a few sandwiches from the adjoining food-stall and got on the train that would take us to Ramnagar. From there we were to take a cab to Nainital and then it would drop us up at Corbett. Typical Indian 3 tier railway compartments are just enough to accommodate six not very spacious though. Upper berth is of my liking and in no time I was up there, with a book in hand, blanket on and secluded from the hustle-bustle below. I don't remember when I slid away into deep slumber that night but I do recall of my state of delirium that I went to bed with. 

On the way to Corbett National Park

The next dawn found me with dazzling eyes standing at the gate of the train, honking through the abeyant mist and night bathed fields of Terai village outskirts. We had arrived at the foothills of the legendary Kumaon and Garhwal. The sun had not made an appearance when we set foot at Ramnagar and the over hanging digital platform clock flashed  4:25 AM. We still had time to freshen up before our cab stopped by at around 5 AM. A couple of hours later we were enroute Nainital, a short stop there and then our little cab was winding through the hilly slopes of Ringora to Wild Crest Resort, Dhikuli. 

Lost in memories of Corbett's tales

In the Himalayan foothills night descends swiftly, the chill settling in like a silent assassin. Wild Crest Resort is nestled in the dense forested buffer area of Corbett national park. Though modern amenities make up for the comfort but the primitiveness of the ancient wilderness around is all engulfing. At sun down I made my way to the rooftop to breath in some forest charm laden air. The land was all new for me, and all different from the childhood dreamy visions of mine where Corbett followed and shot Man-eaters. The hills sloped in from all side, tall alpine trees looming over like sentinel spirits, mountain tops carved intricate jagged pattern on the purple skyline and calls of the wild echoed all around. Bright lights of the beautiful resort cottages stood in strong contrast with the untamed nature. It felt unreal, even to this day that moment seems to me like a dream not lived... yet I had. Time ticked by as I lost myself to the land ... how long I do not remember. It's when the birds had gone silent and night creatures announced they presence I knew it was time to withdraw. I need to sleep now, tomorrow I will be venturing into the magical world of Corbett whose roots stretches back into the past and it's spell has branched deep into the present. 

Wild Crest Resort at sundown

The Jackal Encounter

The jackal staring back at me 

The crescent moon was still dozy on the horizon when I wok at dawn. With tumbling steps as I made for the door, my hazy vision was still trying to make out objects around. Unlocking the door knob I stepped out to find a dog cuddled on our doormat. On seeing me it raised it's head in alarm and then in a flash it jumped up and ran away to the far side of the courtyard. It paused beneath the garden lamp shade to glance back at me once... Silvery back, thick bushy tail, sharp pointed ears... "Oh God!!! That's a jackal", I spoke out loud. She stood there like telling me through her glance, "You stupid humans always scare the lights out of us." It turned on it's heels and the hopped away into the fading darkness. I called up the reception to tell them that there is a Jackal in the resort. 

And a sleepy voice on the other side of receiver told me, "Koi darr nahi Saab ji, Siyar, Hiran, Langoor aate jaate rahte hain resort mein. Kuch nahi karenge." (Nothing to fear Sir, jackals, deer, langoor frquently come into the resort. They won't harm.)

I fired back, "Toh phir Tiger, Leopard bhi toh aa sakte hain." (Then tigers, leopards might also come)

The replay came, "Haan aa toh sakte hain, lekin aaj tak aaye nahi." (Yes they can, but haven't come ever)

And that was the end of the conversation. At length acknowledgment set in that I was amidst true wilderness of Corbett's tales. 

Stuck in the Jungle

The Resort staff had already arranged for an open gypsy to drop me at the safari booking office at Ramnagar as we had not made any safari booking prior and had to book it on spot for which there is generally a long queue. So, we had to leave early to acquire one. Shortly after the jackal encounter I was at the reception when the pick up gypsy drove in. The back seat was already occupied by two kids aging around seven - eight, before I could inquire the Manager informed me these Delhi School kids would also be accompanying me as they had spot booking to make for their classmates, 23 in all. With a long sigh I jumped on to the front seat. 

Ten minutes later we were stuck in the middle of the jungle on our way to Ramnagar as the gypsy engine had failed. The silence of the forest was shattered by the over joyed gamboling kids who paid no heed to the constant request of the driver to keep calm as we were in the elephant corridor of the park. Not to mention my fear going pitches high as I was aware how devastating a rampaging elephant herd can be. The driver had already called up for a back up gypsy from the resort and it was not until the orange glow of the sun filled the horizon that it showed up. 

Lunch after a long day wait at the booking office

We reached  safari booking office at 6:20 AM, obtained a front position in the queue. But what the Manager failed to inform me was that the booking counter opened at 11:00 AM. The queue grew long behind us with each passing hour as did the paper cups of tea that I had consumed during the wait which the driver had generously brought for me at regular intervals. With the Safari permit in hand I reached the resort at 12 noon. I was famished and red-eyed. A dip in the pool followed by a excellently dainty lunch was that it took to get life back into me.

The Jungle Safari 

Wading into Jim's Tiger land - safari ride

We had obtained a safari permit for the Bijrani zone of the park, entry point being at the Amdanda gate we had to make an early start from the resort that afternoon. The open gypsy was a four seater and hood-less, thus an open view we could cherish. I duly took my place on the raised back seat, that I believed would give a better opportunity to view animals to long distances. The engine roared, geared on and hit the jungle road in no time. Cool jungle breeze gushing past my face had a lullaby effect and my eyes felt drowsy drifting me into a dreamland where I followed Jim Corbett as he strolled through the Kumaon wilderness in search of man-eaters. Today seemed different, Jim was not alert and on tiptoes as always instead he hummed gently, melodiously on hill folk songs as he walked on a pugdandee (game track) leading deep into the forest. Occasionally he would pause looking up at the canopies where the birds chirped and sang filled with joie de vivre (Joy of life). Smile that stretched across his face was a testimony of the extra-ordinary being he was whose heart was full of compassion and appreciation for the living though his rifle that he carried on his shoulders vowed to take many. Killing tigers was not something he rejoiced, it was the need to save human lives that made him take up his rifle. "Tigers are large-hearted gentleman with boundless courage", he believed. With thoughts of him running wild in my mind, we had reached the Amdanda gate. The gypsy steered in, the village out-huts faded away into the trailing dust of the vehicle and dense foliage materialized ahead as we drove on... following Jim into his world of bundu eutopia. 

Corbett National Park's History

Jim with his Rigby rifle in the Kumaon foothills 

Established in 1936 during the British Raj it was christened as Hailey National Park (after the name of then Governor of United Provinces William M. Hailey). Post independence, in 1956 it was renamed Jim Corbett National Park after Kumaon's beloved hunter turned conservationist Edward James Corbett, whom the people across the land knew as "Carpet sahib". A paramount part of his life during early twentieth century, he spent purging the inhabitants of  Kumaon and Garhwal of dreaded man-eating tigers and leopards. His triumphant success in bring down the Man-eating leopard of Rudraprayag and Champawat tigress brought him acclaimed fame across the provinces and beyond the seas. Ensuing to write his thrilling encounters with the varmint felines of Himalayan foothills who had instigated a liking for human flesh, once he had put down his smocking barreled shooting iron... he offered a kaleidoscopic view of the life and wildlife of breathtaking ancient land Kumaon and Garhwal. The last of his work "The tree tops" he presented to the world days before his passing. But even from the foreign land of Kenya, where he breathed his last the fragrance of his love for the Kumaoni lands disseminated into the hearts and soul of readers far and away. Cherishing his love for these forests, the wildlife, it's people and this hill adorned land as a whole, stands as a cenotaph  ... The Corbett National Park.

Consummation: 

I dare not step foot with pride here, instead humble admiration should I bear on my sleeves... I hope to find the fearless soul of Jim somewhere among these woodlands awaiting me to take back into my childhood dreamland of Indian jungles... into the land of Corbett where he hunted the "Man eaters of Kumaon."

Our gypsy strolled deep into forest now, sun still a few paces up the horizon but enough for us to ogle at the dark forests and it's denizens.And as Jim would have said it, "Ok then mates... Meet you on the other side."

Into the wilder-land of Jim Corbett

DISCLAIMER:

I do not claim ownership to some of the pictures in the article. They respectfully below to their rightful owners. This is just for imaginative understanding of the readers. I hope to have your support and acceptance of my disclaimant.