My pilgrimage was longer. Leaving the madness and grime of Mumbai late one evening, I arrived to the bright light, cold air and red brick of Sawai Madhopur Station the next morning. If all journeys are metaphors, this is an especially poetic one, the scene changing from Maharashtra’s city slums at dusk to benign open scrub and field of the Desert State at dawn. And as I moved out of mobile coverage area, I found myself shedding all urban angst, counting Indian rollers, blue jays, tree pies… and actually noticing three distinct shades of blue in the sky. Once at Sawai Madhopur, the short drive from the station to the park was equally un-creasing; apart from the busy market place at the start of the journey, it was all camel carts, heaps of guavas and that dazzling mirror work on the outfits of Rajasthani women sauntering by…

Once inside the main gate, a canopy of trees provided shade and the air was at least a few degrees cooler. My open-top gypsy added whiplash wind to the experience, and at the ticket counter I was greeted by Ranthambhore’s omniscient presence — a tree full of langurs. Scavenging on the left-overs from pilgrim picnics, screeching for attention, somersaulting, they landed with unnerving thuds on the tops of tourist buses, and in one case, even urinated to the disgusted delight of school kids.

Ranthambhore is a popular holiday destination and, in winter (the best season weather-wise), it is often full of noisy tourists on an obsessive search for tigers, talking noisily while waiting for an audience with The King. It is hard not to hope for tigers when you’re in Ranthambhore, but there is something tainted about tracking them with walkie-talkies and harassing them with a constant barrage of gawkers. The trick to getting the most out of the park is distancing yourself from the madding crowd and being satisfied just breathing tiger air. Suddenly then, everything about it becomes thrilling.

On my first day in the park, while watching cormorants dry their wings on a bare tree in the middle of Rajbag Lake, someone in the next vehicle swore they had spotted a tiger peeping through the window of a ruin far on the other bank. Everything looks like a tiger when you’re desperate to see one, I said, but around the bonfire at Ranthambhore Bagh (a lovely tented accommodation) that night, a photographer confirmed reports of a young tigress hiding her cubs there. The next day, back at the same spot, while a sambar stag foraged in the water, I had stripes on the brain. About a quarter of an hour later, for no apparent reason, the sambar stumbled out of the lake, antlers festooned with vegetation, and dashed off. The mother tigress had begun her languid amble towards me long before I had noticed her. Making her way across a sliver of land in the water — literally a catwalk across the lake — she stopped a stone’s throw from my vehicle, crouched down and began to drink. Close enough to see her whiskers quiver, the slapping of her flat pink tongue against the water was the only sound I heard for what seemed to be an eternity.

Finally, she crossed the path in front of us and walked ahead, letting us follow her in our vehicle for at least 20 minutes down the road before disappearing into the foliage. (Probably leading us as far away from her cubs as she could.) Tigers, my guide informed me, liked walking on the Forest Department’s un-tarred roads because they’re soft on the paws. As a result, the roads provide opportunities for incredible tiger sightings. Slightly peeved with the six vehicles blocking the path in front of me first thing the next morning, I was forced to join the fray waiting for their promised tiger (a tip-off from a forest guard.). There was no way any wild animal was going to make an appearance with those many people around, I thought. I was wrong. Not only did the tiger make an appearance, he was on a hunt. Slipping silently into the tall grass just off the road, he crouched, waiting. There was no prey as far as anyone could see, but soon there was a wretched yelp, immediately thwarted. A few minutes later, out came the gorgeous predator awkwardly dragging along a cheetal (almost as big as himself) by the neck. There, right on the road in full view of a few dozen awe-struck humans, he sat down and, half-hidden by the grass, began to feast.

Not all trips to tiger reserves are this rich, I know. Even forests guards don’t see a kill in action very often — tigers are only successful once in 20 tries — and at the end, it’s down to luck. Leaving the park a few days later, as I drove past Rajbag, past Jogi Mahal, past Gomukh, past the soaring cliff face (where eagles nest and leopards hide), past the last racket-tailed drongo and dhok tree, I turned around just in time to see the ancient fort looming like a vision borne of opiate excess... Leaving Ranthambhore is like leaving a vital organ behind. You have to come back for your heart.

About Ranthambore NP
Once the hunting grounds of the maharajas of Jaipur, and later the British, this area, spread over an expanse of 392.5 sq km, was declared the Sawai Madhopur Wildlife Sanctuary in 1955. In 1973, it was declared the Ranthambhore Tiger Reserve under Project Tiger. An area of 274.5 sq km from within the Tiger Reserve was notified the Ranthambhore National Park in 1980. With the launch of Project Tiger in 1973, the National Park began to be protected in earnest, and as the forest returned to health, aquifers in the area began to replenish, to the benefit of surrounding villages.

The surrounding areas of Keladevi Sanctuary (674 sq km), the Sawai Mansingh Sanctuary (127 sq km) and the Kualji Close (7.58 sq km) were consolidated and added to the National Park in 1992, bringing the spread of the reserve to an impressive 1,174 sq km.

The park’s royal past, when kings and nawabs gathered here for the annual tiger shoot during the Raj, coupled with high tiger sightings, have made it an attractive destination for the country’s visiting dignitaries. In 1961, a hunting party was organised at Ranthambhore for Queen Elizabeth II and the Duke of Edinburgh. Rajiv Gandhi visited the reserve armed with a camera in 1986 and the former US President Bill Clinton came here in 2000. The most recent visit was that of Prime Minister Manmohan Singh in May 2005 following the furore over Ranthambhore’s poaching incidents that had followed so closely on the heels of the Sariska tiger scandal. The current official count of tigers at Ranthambhore stands at an uninspiring 26. Given the size of the park, it seems like a remote possibility to come across the apex beast in its own habitat. But travellers to this prime wildlife destination have repeatedly reported their satisfaction with, and in some instances, even their marvel at the Ranthambhore experience. The reason is that the park is best known for its almost assured tiger sightings as the tigers here are reputed to have become fearless of human company and are often sighted during the daytime. The denizens of the park continue to fight a battle for survival as the problems of poaching and cattle grazing by neighbouring communities and villages remain unresolved. If the tigers of Ranthambhore are to be saved from the fate of Sariska’s tigers, a more concerted effort needs to be made by forest officials and wildlife lovers.

Orientation
The birdwatching opportunities here, especially around the lakes, are legendary. You will see large herds of herbivores, cheetal, sambar and nilgai, and also find feline pug marks scattered in the sand around dilapidated chhatris. You can also spend endless afternoons crocodile-watching by a lake. Also visit Jogi Mahal, located near a shelter constructed by Raja Hamir for a sage.

The entry point is on the Ranthambhore Road, about 10 km from the railway station at Sawai Madhopur. It passes through the Missradara Gate to the Ranthambhore Fort (the latter lies within the park’s precincts). The Ganesh Temple is within the fort, and the Jogi Mahal lies at the foot of the fort. The Ranthambhore School of Art, where you can do some shopping, is located on the road that leads up to the park.
*Park entry fee Indians Rs 25, foreigners Rs 200 Vehicle fee Gypsy/ Canter Rs 125 Safari fee Rs 1,350 Guide fee Rs 150 Cameras Still free, video Rs 200 Park timings 6.30-10 am, 1.30-5.30 pm (subject to change from time to time, so get an update when booking your trip).