I received my two fellow travellers from Kolkata on a cool November evening at Shamshabad. We were on a road trip to Tadoba and onward to Pench, before returning to our base at Hyderabad.
A 6.30 start next morning took us down 51 kms of the runway that is Nehru Outer Ring Road (ORR). We had two choices to set course for Tadoba after getting off ORR. We opted for the marginally shorter route via Karimnagar, our only error of judgment on the road; but more of that later.
The drive down NH563 to Karimnagar was a breeze, with a break at a tiffin house for piping idli-vada and Nescafe-laced sugar syrup. All went well till about the halfway mark when we hit the NTPC town of Ramagundam and crossed Godavari. Our next milestone was Mancherial. It involved a drive through the coalmines of Singaneri Collieries; an interesting change of landscape. Names like Singapur, Medinipur and Shyamnagar on the way uplifted my fellow journeymen from Kolkata.
The 100 km run from Mancherial to Chandrapur was the error in judgment, and a nightmare. We crawled from Andhra Pradesh to Maharashtra on a two-lane path through supposedly Maoist infested forests. Two things, however, stood out on this stretch. First, we saw blooming cotton fields.....mile upon mile in a remarkable Vidharbha terrain. Secondly, we passed by the BILT paper factory at Ballarpur (yes, such a place exists!).
We diverted from NH930 to take the 32 kms run on Durgapur Road to Chandrapur. Lunch came in the form of roti-daal-sabzi at a neat set-up at this diversion. We savoured the offering whilst watching South Africa collapse in their second innings at the Mohali Test, chasing 218.
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| `Cotton fields back home.....' |
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| In full bloom |
More thermal power generation at Chandrapur, dribbling across accompanying open cast coal mines brought us to the Moharli gate of Tadoba. Tiger-land. at last, on a late autumn afternoon after an eight hour, 484 kms drive!
At Tadoba
Day 2 commenced with our reporting at the Moharli gate of Tadoba Reserve at 5.30 AM. We were pre-booked for two morning and an afternoon safari in customised Maruti Gypsy. This is the land of Gond tribals, and from where `Gondwana’ is derived.
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The word `calling’ acquires a separate significance in these parts. The guides on safari keep a sharp ear for these callings.....warning calls for predators in the vicinity that emanate mostly from the deer and langur clans. The guides are experts at intercepting the direction of the calling and instruct the Gypsy driver to the spot through the shortest route in the forests.
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It’s Latin name is Nephila pilipes. The guide introduced it as the Giant Wood Spider. They thrive in millions in Tadoba’s precincts, their large concentric webs drawing fascinating patterns against the rays of the sun. The female of the species presents a scary sight, especially if you have arachnophobia. Our guide Ranjan related three stories on the female of the species to drive home a real threat. The first confirmed that the male of the species, usually smaller in size than the female, is routinely devoured by the latter after mating. I thought only the Black Widow does it! The second and the third referred to the tensile strength of the web that the female constructs. Small, unmindful birds are often caught in the web and eaten. And manufacturers in USA use the web as raw material for production of bullet-proof vests!
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| Giant Wood Spider |
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Early morning safaris also expose you to a unique species.....the Great Indian open-mouthed snorers. Spare a thought for the effort, time and money that they invest to reach this stage! It leaves them too exhausted to take in the sight and sounds of the forests on chilly autumn dawns.
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The guides consider four species to be relatively elusive sightings at Tadoba; sloth bear, leopard, wild dogs (dhole) and the tiger. In our three safari rounds, the tiger remained unsighted despite multiple mad dashes across dusty terrain in our Gypsy on the basis of callings. The invariable quip from other travellers who hit the spotting sights earlier was that the tiger had crossed path a couple of minutes ago. The sloth remained loathe to connect. We heard the leopard’s heavy breathing and grunts metres away in the thick undergrowth.... enough to chill the spine. But the no-show remained. Finally, the dhole. Around a bend in Moharli range, our Gypsy screeched to a halt. A pack of wild dogs were squatting on the dirt track, challenging us to get past them. They took their time in measuring us, soaked in the morning sun, exchanged pleasantries with each other and condescended ten minutes later to let us pass. Lest I forget.....they were scary in a group!
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| Indian wild dogs, or Dhole |
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The MTDC resort at Tadoba offers decent accommodation, but is way short on food options. Day-to-day running of the resort has been handed over to Deepak Enterprises, Chandrapur. A few MTDC employees choose to confine themselves in the main office on the pretext of overseeing operations. Our only interfacing with them happened in filling up the guest register when we checked in. Our Man Friday was a cheerful guy of Nepali origin from Siliguri. He did his best to make us feel at home, kept us well fed and ensured a steady supply of ice cubes.
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Tadoba doesn’t have a history of a tiger attack on humans since 1955, despite the abundance of human settlements in the core zone. Pench follows a similar trend. The underlying reason is not hard to find. The deer and gaur (Indian bison) population at each of the reserves is staggering. You can hardly look anywhere without your sight settling on these beautiful creatures.
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| Indian Bison (Gaur) |
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| Spotted deer on the run |
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The 234 kms run from Tadoba to Pench took us five hours, with a lengthy lunch break thrown in. Midway, we used the Outer Ring Road at Nagpur to avoid city traffic, but not before passing the VCA Stadium where Sourav played his last Test seven years to the day.
Your eligibility to drive on this stretch, as also in most other parts, depends on your absorption of a fundamental tenet. You need to maintain c30% of the stretch on your left for contrarian drivers who follow the norm of `keep to the right’. This is not exclusive to two-wheelers only. Drivers of heavy commercial vehicles have followed suit. The dharma of `chalta hai’ and `short cuts’ run deep in the veins of the average Indian.
About forty kilometres out of Nagpur on NH7, we stopped at MHKS Plaza. This seemed right out of US Highways. It had neat, separate sections; a streamlined bay for tired truck drivers to park their vehicles and rejuvenate body and soul in comfortable cots in dormitories, a huge fuel bunk, a comprehensive food store and a neat restaurant offering vegetarian fare. Most important, we made use of a spanking clean washroom that matched those at any international airport. There is hope for women in India to venture on road trips, after all!
A giant wallpaper at the plaza claims that NH7 is India’s longest highway, connecting Varanasi to Kanyakumari, with Jabalpur, Nagpur, Hyderabad, Bangalore and Madurai placed in between.
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At Pench
This is Jungle Book country. Kipling is supposed to have based his story in a Pench backdrop. The delightful property of MPTDC where we stayed is named Kipling’s Court. We arrived at a time when Mowgli Festival was on. Kaa, Baloo and the rest of the gang feature regularly in the billboards and hotel signage.
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“Good morning, sir! My name is Nisha. I am your guide on this safari”. She was a wisp of a girl, barely out of her teens. Her words came through in halting Hindi, a young lady putting her first steps in a world of possibilities. Her voice lacked the monotonous drawl of a seasoned guide, but she was all eagerness and enthusiasm. Conversation flowed in hushed tones as our Gypsy hit the dirt trail. Nisha was part of the first batch of ladies from surrounding villages who had undergone a fifteen day course, followed by five days of intensive training before being inducted in the team of guides at Pench. It occurred less than a month before our arrival. This idea of the Forest Department has to stand out as a major, path-breaking initiative. It is a huge leap for Gen Z of the womenfolk in these parts. This was the standout `human’ moment in our journey.
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Tigers appeared on both our safaris at Pench. The first sighting was a posterior view of a whiff of the tail, before the lord and master took to the woods. The second one, in the afternoon, was a proper show from a full-grown male. He halted periodically to scratch tree trunks to mark territory, squatted next to the dirt trail to deliver a well-earned crap and then led the way for a good 300 metres on the car tracks. A final halt on the track, a searing backward glance, and he was gone. Replaying that brief span, I recall how the world had gone silent when this played out, except for the shutter bursts on our cameras.
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| Courtesy Rahber Ali |
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Pench is home to more than 300 varieties of birds; a fact that tends to be overlooked at the expense of the predators. Nisha has a greater interest in birds. The interludes between the callings for tigers were fun-filled because our guide took pains to help us spot and identify several of the feathered species.
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| Honey Buzzard |
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| Indian Roller |
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| Hoopoe |
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| Peacock |
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There is an equal measure of grey langur (or hanuman, as we better know them) and deer at Pench. They teach us of the benefits of co-habitation. Being arboreal, the langur has a broader range of sight from atop trees to warn the deer flock at ground level. We also saw them pluck and drop leaves and fruits from reaches where the deer cannot climb. The deer reciprocates with warning barks or callings on lurking danger, using a keen sense of smell.
Having learnt our lesson from the onward route, we planned our return to Hyderabad carefully. We had targeted to return to our base by afternoon, in time to join the Diwali revelries. It was a superb 640 kms run on NH7. It took us ten hours, with three lengthy breaks and a refuel thrown in. Our youngest traveller is not habituated to early morning starts. He chose to effect his transition from `half-dead’ to `fully charged’ via trance music in the car (What’s the world coming to? Trance music to wake you up?!?!). He was considerate enough to exempt us from the torture, having wrapped a headset around his ears for undivided attention. A couple of inedible cupcakes served as his pick-me-up!!!!
