Over the last 40 years or so, Valmik Thapar has written around 30 books on wildlife and wildlife-related issues. Most of them—needless to say—are about tigers and especially tigers in his beloved Ranthambore National Park. Thapar first went to Ranthambore in 1976 and during his first 20-day visit, he was the only tourist there. It was also a trip which shaped and changed his life forever as he fell under the spell of the most magnificent big cat in the world (and was lucky to have a mentor such as the late Fateh Singh Rathore—the man who brought Ranthambore and its tigers from obscurity to the world stage.)
In this book, Thapar profiles some of the tigers that have won a place in his heart, each perhaps for a different reason. Thus we meet, Padmini, ‘the queen mother’; Genghis, the master predator who invented hunting in water (shots of which are included in nearly every tiger documentary you see); Noon, a diurnal hunter; Broken Tooth, an ‘exceptionally gentle’ male; the devoted mother Laxmi; and of course, the world-famous Machli who died just recently. There are others too, troublesome characters such as T24 who turned man-eater and had to be banished, and T25 who created a sensation by looking after his motherless cubs.
Through the stories of these tigers, Thapar also relates his own
story—how Ranthambore became part of his life, how the tigers gradually revealed different aspects of their behaviour and character (for example, not being as solitary, secretive and nocturnal as believed), and how protection of their habitat and the removal of human activity from their territory enabled them to come into their own as it were and even become more tolerant of us. Much of the tiger’s secretive nature is directly attributable to our interference in its life. What also emerges is the transformation of Ranthambore Tiger Reserve, from a virtually unknown place back in the ’70s to the world’s premier tiger reserve at present. This largely due to the efforts of the late Fateh Singh Rathore, who put Thapar under ‘tiger training’, a part of which included tying out a live bait a few yards away from a waiting tigress and her cubs!
Each decade too left its mark: the 1970s saw secretive, nocturnal tigers in Ranthambore because of the high level of human disturbance and activity. Then as protection increased and villages were moved out of the park, the tigers came into their own in the ’80s (even though in 1981 Rathore was beaten to within an inch of his life by illegal graziers). The 1990s, however, provided megaton shocks as poaching rocked the park and tiger numbers plummeted from 46 to 15 and the mandarins in power as usual were blind to the problem. The turn of the century, according to Thapar, has been ‘stressful’ for tigers (not surprising considering the government’s current attitude towards wildlife).
We also learn a lot about the tiger and its habits—its physical prowess, intelligence and devotion towards its young and familial ties. And, of course, there are innumerable heart-stopping encounters to rev up your pulse! Thapar is not very optimistic of the future—as the tigers’ realm is ruled by a largely disinterested bureaucracy (barring some sterling souls), toothless laws, interminable delays and weak political will.
For a succinct life-story of one man’s interaction with and devotion to the tiger in modern India—with beautiful Ranthambore as a backdrop (and embellished by Rose Corcoran’s wonderful black and white sketches)—this is the book for you.