I remember a time when the opportunity of being in a national park had excited me no end. I waited impatiently to know if I had been selected to be a part of the training programme of a tourism company, an opportunity I had waited for, for a long time. Leaving Mumbai was not easy, however, this chance was too good to be missed.
On my way to my new workplace, we drove past Nagpur, passing through patches of bare teak hills, past lazy troops of Hanuman langurs in the trees and rhesus macaques on the ground. Then, turning off the busy highway onto the quieter kachha roads, we went past beautiful villages dotted with pretty houses where children waved excitedly to the vehicles that passed by.
Pench gets its name from the river Pench that flows through it. It submerges an area of 55 sq km. Pench lies in the southern lower reaches of the Satpura hill range. It is a tropical, dry deciduous forest, predominant with teak in the plains, but characterised by Indian ebony and frankincense on the slopes.
It is an important part of the central Indian highland landscape. It’s one of the last few intact continuous corridors of forests remaining in the country. It is connected to Kanha in the east and Bor and Satpuda in the west. For free-ranging animals like Gaur and Dhole, such landscapes are their last strongholds in the Indian wilderness.
On my first drive into the Pench forest, the sun had risen quickly. It was a dry and balmy morning. I had never been to a national park, so nothing could have prepared me for it. A white-browed fantail flycatcher singing its melodious song got my attention. A couple of Indian rollers (blue feathered birds) were agitatedly chasing a shikra through the branches. Their tenacity in chasing off a bird of prey amazed me. Moments later, we saw one of them going inside a tree-hole and the other one standing guard. The reason for their aggression was clear as they were protecting their nest.
Early March delicately transforms the forest. The palash tree sheds its leaves and its buds begin to bloom. The forest seems to be ablaze with its red fluorescence. The prickly barked semul’s red flowers added to the flaming colours. The birds certainly don’t seem to mind though! Plum-headed parakeets, black-hooded orioles, purple sunbirds make the most of the bounty. Yellow-crowned woodpeckers and brown-capped pygmy woodpeckers suddenly develop a sweet tooth and the “plop-plop” of mahua is ubiquitous. Langurs rip apart the plums while chitals are hard at work, digging the fruit dropped down by the langurs. Sambars munch on them too, as if it’s an everyday dessert. Wild boars have their nose full with its pungent aroma: Deciduous forests, as we realised, have a wonderful seasonal bonanza for everyone.
One day, we spotted a tiger on a hill, resting in a cool place and dozing off. It mesmerised the crowd of tourists who had been waiting patiently just for a glimpse, but since it was feeling thirsty it crossed the jeep-track to go to a waterhole, flicked its tail and pricked its ears, not once looking at the crowd. It hunched down and lapped up a tank full of water. Then with its shoulders bulging and head still, it got into the water backwards, its hind legs first, and sat there half submerged, resting its head on its paws till the light faded out.
If March is lovely, the forest turns a different leaf — literally and figuratively — come October. The rains come down to beat the heat and fill up the waterholes. The trees are clothed with green leaves again. Giant wood spiders hang in mid-air everywhere. They seem to weave a whole canopy together and these huge webs have fluttering insects stuck in them, struggling until their last breath.
On another pleasant morning, we saw a leopard trying to get away from the commotion of langurs and sambars. We tried tracking it for an hour before it finally decided to settle on a boulder. The area it inhabits has a conglomerate of boulders and when we found it, the leopard glared at us and yawned absent-mindedly. If one were to see it from 10 feet above, they would mistake it for another rock. It is always exciting to be in the presence of this cat. Pench has a thriving population of leopards with its rolling hills and rocky terrain.
During my time here, I came to know this park like a city dweller might know the bylanes of his city. I have had the time of my life exploring little facets of this amazing wilderness.
Vrushal is an entrepreneur and inveterate traveller who previously worked in the wildlife tourism sector
