‘Madam, it’s
the perfect weekend getaway from Bangalore’, the travel agent had promised us.
I was eight months pregnant and still unable to
believe that I would be a mother any day soon. Having never held a baby in my
life, I was terrified of what motherhood would mean to me. I grabbed the chance
at an adventurous weekend before I was sure; I would be lost in the world of
potty training and lullabies. Little did I know the adventure that lay ahead of
me that weekend.
‘Bandipur National Park’ was once known as the
hiding place of the infamous Sandalwood smuggler ‘Veerappan’ as he spent years
terrorizing people and avoiding the police.
The smugglers are no more but the dense jungle stretches of Bandipur
still hold a sepulchral thrill as one imagines the stealthy tigers and the
crafty smugglers hiding behind the tall trees.
A short drive away from the bustling city of
Bangalore, the forest resort is truly a slice of heaven for the weary city
dwellers. Though a national tiger resort, tigers are a rare sight. One can spot
deer, elephants, squirrels, peacocks and the like in the jungle. The forest is
also home to some exotic trees like Sandalwood, Teak etc. With no access to mobile phones and
television, it forces one to cut off from the digital world of constant
communication and focus on the beauty of nature.
We arrived in Bandipur well in time for a sumptuous
lunch. After a quick afternoon trek, we got ready for the jungle safari.
We were travelling in an open jeep with 2 other
couples. A group of young men were also enjoying the safari in the jeep behind
ours. As evening fell, the forest seemed bathed in the magical orange glow of a
beautiful cloudless dusk.
A group of elephants came near our jeep. There was
one baby elephant and a group of bigger elephants along with it. ‘Look,
elephants’, shouted one guy in the jeep next to ours.
Without a warning, he suddenly rigged up a huge
camera. It was a huge contraption with its own stand. It was aimed right at the
baby elephant. It got scared and started running when it saw the camera.
Suddenly, we saw the mother elephant charging at the
jeep. Did she think it was a gun aimed at her baby? We’ll never know. It just
felt its baby was in danger and reacted instantly.
As if in slow motion, our driver turned around the
jeep and starting racing through the forest. Behind us came the other jeep, the
reckless guy still aiming his camera at the elephants.
And behind the jeep, eight angry elephants charged
angrily towards us.
‘That’s it. I’ll probably deliver my child right
here in the middle of the forest’ I thought as I tried hard to control my
shaking tummy and shaking mind.
10 minutes of chase. 10 minutes of absolute fear. Somehow
we found the way back to the camp. And with all our combined shouts, the man
with the camera finally came to his senses. As we came to the open road, the
elephants gave up their chase and retreated back slowly. Maybe once the camera
was removed, the mother elephant thought her baby was no longer in danger.
A month later, the nurse placed a beautiful baby
girl in my arms. ‘My own baby’, I was awestruck. And suddenly, I remembered the
angry mother elephant I had seen in Bandipur. I felt the same primitive need to
protect the small bundle in my arms as the elephant had that day. Maybe this is
what motherhood means.
The elusive tiger might have escaped our notice in
Bandipur but the protective and angry elephant mother had given me, my first,
unforgettable, lesson in motherhood.
