Some places seem untouched by time—where nature unfolds at its own rhythm, far removed from the chaos of human life. Nestled in the Terai region of Uttar Pradesh, Katarniaghat Wildlife Sanctuary is one such haven. Part of the Dudhwa Tiger Reserve and spanning over 400 square kilometers, it serves as a vital ecological corridor between India and Nepal. Declared a sanctuary in 1976, Katarniaghat remains largely overshadowed by its more celebrated neighbours—Dudhwa National Park in India and Chitwan National Park in Nepal.
Unlike more commercialised parks like Corbett National Park or Ranthambore, safaris here feel personal. There are fewer jeeps, fewer tourists, and more space for solitude.
Just a four-hour drive from Lucknow, it makes for an ideal long-weekend escape. Accommodation is simple—forest lodges tucked amid the trees—and the sanctuary is open from November 15 to June 15. For the true adventurer, a boat ride on the Geruwa River—a stronghold of the critically endangered Gangetic dolphins—is a must. Drift past dense vegetation, watch a gharial slip beneath the surface, or catch a fleeting glimpse of a dolphin’s back slicing through the water.
Spotting one, however, is a matter of patience and luck. Often, you see it before you hear it—a sleek arc above the water, followed by a soft splash, before it vanishes into the muddy depths.
These blind, echo-locating mammals are among the world’s rarest cetaceans (a group of aquatic mammals, including whales, dolphins, and porpoises). Once abundant in the Ganges and its tributaries, their numbers have plummeted due to pollution, damming, and declining river health. With fewer than 6,500 dolphins left, Katarniaghat remains one of their final refuges.
On the river’s banks, muggers bask in the sun. In contrast, the gharial is a picture of prehistoric grace. With an elongated snout lined with needle-like teeth, it is built for speed and precision, snatching fish with swift, sideways movements.
Once widespread in India’s rivers, gharials are now critically endangered. However, in Katarniaghat, conservation programmes, including successful breeding initiatives, have helped stabilise their numbers. While rivers here are ruled by aquatic hunters, its forests belong to the Terai tiger—a subspecies of Bengal tiger perfectly adapted to this swampy landscape. Unlike the tigers of Ranthambore and Kanha, the Terai tiger thrive in dense grasslands and riverine forests. Though rarely seen, these big cats are often sensed—through pugmarks or the alarm calls of sambar and chital echoing through the trees. The sanctuary forms a vital link in the Terai arc landscape, it facilitates gene flow between tiger populations across India and Nepal.
Moreover, its also home to leopards, elephants, sloth bears, Indian one-horned rhino, swamp deer and Bengal florican—a critically endangered bird that depends on undisturbed grasslands.
Like many Indian forests, Katarniaghat is also home to people. The Tharu tribe, indigenous to the Terai, have lived here for generations. Their deep connection to the land and knowledge of medicinal plants make them key partners in conservation. But challenges persist. Expanding agriculture and livestock grazing are bringing humans and wildlife into closer conflict. Elephants raid crops; tigers occasionally stray near villages. Climate change is altering rainfall patterns, reshaping the very landscapes that sustain wildlife here.
Katarniaghat rewards patience. It’s not a park of guaranteed sightings, but of rare encounters and quiet wonders.