Category: Uncategorized

  • Looms of Assam: The Wizard of Eri

    Assam: Land of the Rhino. 

    Undoubtedly, and deservedly, the One-Horned Rhinoceros is a symbol of Assam’s culture, heritage, and history. The Rhino is a testament in many ways to the strength of the land and its people. Assam, the proclaimed “Gateway to the Northeast,” is very much the sentry at the gate that shapes the conversation and understanding of this part of India. I fully intend to further explore the experiences of Northeast India and its people; these pieces will feature first-person interviews and accounts, so they’re not purely opinion. Until then, I wanted to share this article to report my experiences in Assam from 2024. I want to skip past Kaziranga – though I insist that you don’t if you head to Assam – and instead take you on a journey outside of the beaten path. 2 hours off the beaten path to be exact. 

    This is a story of travel’s unique ability to transform. It transforms the extraordinary privilege of exploration into the unforgettable. And November 2024 unfurled a story I will never forget. 


    I landed in Guwahati’s airport – a brightly lit arrival hall adorned with tribal decor – with giddy excitement. I had two things on my agenda here: 

    1. See a Rhino.
    2. Buy a sari with a Rhino on it. 

    You see, one of my passions in life (apart from food, travel, and making jokes no one understands) is textiles. Very much inherited from my late grandmother, a tailor and textile enthusiast herself, this passion has always woven (see what I did there), itself into the agendas of my travels. I also have a passion for turning things into jackets. One thing about me is that I love a jacket, a coat or perhaps even a cape. My favorite canvas for jacketification is definitely a sari. Hence, the hunt was on for two rhinos – one mammal and one silk. 

    For the uninitiated, Assam is a textile haven. A diverse pageant of heritage and traditions interweave to produce Assam’s textiles. In particular Assam is famous for its wild silks. The first, muga silk, a shimmery and naturally golden hued silk. Secondly, pat silk, glossy and naturally white. Finally, eri silk, warm and rustic. It is also known as Ahimsa silk since its harvesting does not involve the silk cocoon being boiled with the moth still inside. 

    My itinerary to Assam was already a jam-packed one. With a trip to Kazirange being the focal point. 4 hours each way from bustling Guwahati, Kaziranga truly is a paradise on Earth.

    But 2 hours away from Guwahati is a rather inconspicuous village. It’s a scenic drive for sure, but the purpose of my visit was far more than just road-fervor. This village is home to Kabita di and her family. Kabita di has been weaving since she was only 12 years old, when she learned the skill from her mother. She has since transformed herself to a small business woman, selling her artisan weaves across India from her home here in Assam. Her journey eventually led her to Nila House in Jaipur. This is where our stories intersect. I visited Jaipur in July of 2024, returning to Chennai baked to a crisp, and well acquainted with Nila House having recently completed a workshop in Indigo dyeing. My search for artisans in Assam led me to Nila’s Connect database, a roster of artisan textile designers across India – featuring names, numbers, speciality and instagram handles! It’s all thanks to this database that I was blessed to discover Kabita di, and Monikanchan Handlooms. 

    We had already struck out a sari shop in Guwahati, where the salesman quoted me a truly absurd number for a silk sari adorned with rhinos. I wasn’t pleased. I knew that what I wanted was out there somewhere, and I wasn’t boarding that Indigo flight until I had it in my suitcase. That was when I turned to Nila Connect. Monikanchan was the first or second result on the list tagged under Assam, and it was in minutes that I dialed the phone and handed it to my father. A brief conversation revealed that Kabita di lived about 2 hours North of Guwahati, and was kind enough to invite us to her home. 

    The next day we piled into our car and drove off to meet the Wizard of Eri. I truly felt like I had crashlanded in Oz. As the car drew further and further from Guwahati, and our driver grew more and more confused as to where these out-of-towners were taking them, my excitement refused to be tempered. It took no less than 4 spotty-service punctuated phone calls for Kabita di to guide us to her abode. But the journey could not have been more worth it. Through snaking lanes we arrived to see Kabita di and her family flagging our car down. A flurry of Namaskars and joined palms led us into her house, past a massive Bamboo handloom stationed proudly in the courtyard. As we were invited to take a seat in the humble living room, Kabita di’s husband explained that this was the first time a customer had made the journey to meet them at home. The whole family voiced that it was an honor to welcome us, and I returned with what an honor it was to have been invited to their space. 

    Hospitality in India is absolutely no joke. One-by-one the three family members – Kabita di, her husband, and her daughter – exited the room, leaving my three family members – my mom, my dad, and myself – sharing a bench in their living room. An air of confusion descended on the room, as my family traded glances. Suddenly, Kabita di returned with her family – armed with betal nut leaves, kumkum and gamosas. A gamosa, as we learned, is a traditional Assamese scarf that is integral to the culture and practices of the State and its people. Present at just about any special function in Assam, it is also used to welcome respected guests. It was such a deep honor to have been welcomed with such graciousness by the family. But it didn’t stop there. Out came the trays of food. 

    A platter of traditional Assamese sweets, many made by Kabita di herself the day before, were presented to our awestruck faces. From gulab jamun to biscuits from a local store, to a rice cake – almost like a sweet idly? – the food was delectable, and my family and I were simply blown away by the gesture. Somehow, we still weren’t done yet! Our hosts explained that no function in Assam is complete without black rice kheer – and there in three golden goblets (I kid you not) came the honored dessert. I don’t even have the word to express how these events made me feel. It was just an all-prevailing sense of gratitude, honor, awe, and respect. 

    We were soon immersed in the shopping. From cupboards and below beds, and other rooms, came fabric after fabric. Stoles, scarves, gamosas, towels, and most importantly, saris! I still remember the moment I locked eyes with her, a gorgeous red and white saree with rhinos traversing the width, butterflies dotted through the fabric and flowers to boot. I found it, the Rhino Sari.

    It was quite a colorful affair. With mustards, greens, blues, pinks, and reds – both eri and pat silks abound. Our haul was no short of at least 20 items. 3 saris, 6 meters of running fabric, 6 stoles, 4 scarves, and the gamosas we had been gifted. 

    4 hours passed peacefully at their home, with ceremony and tradition stitched into every word, every gesture. Our palms joined again to bid good health and success to each other. With bags in tow, we buckled into our car. All three of us were stunned to silence – no easy achievement all things considered – and I knew that this story was made to be told. 

    In preparation for this article I called Kabita di and was delighted to hear that she remembered us. I had called from my personal number, rather than my father’s, and she joked that if I called from dad’s number she would have recognized instantly. I put my broken Hindi through the ringer, but was so touched to know that the family was doing well, their daughter had gotten married, and that they had new products they’d like to share with the world. 

    Artisans like Kabita di make India what it is. Through their art and ingenuity, artisans from potters to weavers are keeping traditions alive in the most meaningful ways, and we all have a responsibility to hear and share their stories. To uplift and support them when we can. To respect the work they put into each piece, and cherish them as heirlooms for decades to come. 

    Kabita di, you are an inspiration to me, from your abilities to your hospitality. And when Assam calls me again, I know the first stop on my journey. 


    Please find below the number to reach Kabita di if you’re interested in purchasing anything from her, and some photos she shared of products.

    Kabita di, Weaver Assam – +91 6002669399

  • Incredible India: Opinions on a Missed Opportunity

    Incredible India. 

    The way the sun reflects off the Taj Mahal. The gasp when you behold an Indian Elephant for the first time. The unforgettable sights of Holi, and the irresistible smells of street food. Not to mention craft havens, spiritual oases, and historic adventures. Incredible India has it all!

    So, why did only 20 million tourists experience all this incredibleness last year? 

    20 million is a big number, don’t get me wrong, but France got nearly 102 MILLION international tourists. These stats aren’t particularly well researched – just a quick UN Tourism dashboard visit, but it doesn’t take a statistician to understand that more tourists go to France than to India. However, it also doesn’t take a cultural theorist to understand that it’s not as simple as France is better than India at tourism.

    I’d like to begin by saying this article isn’t some symposium piece on tourism in India. It’s not overly researched, statistically heavy, or even proposing something grand. It’s really not a position paper in any sense of the word. What this article is instead is a lover of the country voicing my concerns for what I see as one of the biggest missed opportunities in Indian history.


    India is an incredibly (see what I did there) diverse nation. With 28 states and 8 union territories, each rather unrecognizable from the other. One second you’re in the verdant jungles of Kerala, the next in the crisp air of Karnataka’s coffee estates, and then the bustling cities of Maharashtra. Arguably, there is something for everyone in India. In fact, what makes India so unique, in my opinion, is that it is transdisciplinary. There are few other countries in the world where the wildlife lover has the opportunity to view weavers in action. Or where the spiritually minded can savor flavors unlike any other. So why is it that when countries like South Africa offer wildlife, China offers crafts, France offers history, and Indonesia offers spirituality – does India end up last? I’d like to point you to a metaphor:


    The Paint Palette:

    Every tourist activity is an individual color of paint on a palette. When you’re a kid and want to make a rainbow, you excitedly mix them all up. What you’re left with is a nasty shade of brown that makes you cry


    India is deeply brown, and I can say that because I have a brown friend. Where I think most people get bogged down in the fact that a brown was even created – with a bunch of finger-pointing, tongue-wagging and brow-furrowing – I would instead like to focus on ways to create that rainbow we all wanted as kids.

    When I think of India, I think of home, in Tamil Nadu, I think of backwaters, in Kerala, I think of culture, in the North East, and I think of busy streets, in the everywhere. Now, aside from the joke there, therein lies the issue. When we think of India we don’t view it as a unified entity. However, I don’t think of this as a bad thing – I think it is a strength. If India has something for everyone then how can we expect that people come to the country and experience everything everywhere all at once? Who do you think they are, Michelle Yeoh? We know from the movie that the weight of everything will fracture the mind! 

    I believe India wants to be Thailand. Cultured, diverse, attractive to partiers and spiritualists alike. But we are not Thailand. There is no unity of India the way that there is in Thailand. 

    Think about it, whether in Chiang Mai or Bangkok or Krabi, the tourist’s perspective is the same. Everyone speaks Thai, everyone eats foods found in any other part of the country, and what keeps the experience novel is the scenery changing. Now look at India, you’re travelling from Jaipur to Agra to Delhi – The Golden Triangle. The same still applies, right? To a tourist, everyone speaks Hindi, you can get Tikka Masala everywhere, and the scenery just changes from Thar to Taj. For most people, this is all India is. Show up in Delhi and check into the ITC or the Leela. Be shocked by cows in the street and then drive down to Jaipur. Get a henna tattoo and a lac bangle. See the Taj, cry a little, fly home. Boom, India done. NO NEED TO RETURN. People who do return want a taste of something different. The same is true for Thailand, and this is where the unity part kicks in, where people who return to Thailand visit maybe a new island or beach or experience – swapping Chiang Mai for Rai. Largely the unity is still intact. Now, return to India. Someone bedazzled by India’s charm doesn’t need to return to the Golden Triangle. Say they arrive in Delhi and head to Ahmedabad, or Kolkata. Big scenery changes – Your guide still speaks Hindi, you might learn a word in Bengali, but Tikka Masala got a little more scarce. Now, what if you’re in Chennai? Or Kochi? Or even Bubhaneshwar? Not to mention Assam or Nagaland! The scenery has shifted entirely. The language is unrecognizable. The food is from around the world-away. Now what? 

    With a country as vast as India, claiming that all of India can be explored once is laughable. We need a different model. We are not Thailand, or France – we’re the United States. 

    Eagle Screech

    Think about it! Each state in the US is like a different country! Imagine trying to pack New York City and Yellowstone in the same trip, it’s impossible. Each state feels uniquely their own but also deeply American. That is exactly what India needs. You should land in Assam be inspired by *Awesome Assam* and then be dying to visit the rest of India in successive trips. I think India’s image problem is just that we are confused about who the model is. 

    I’ve already mentioned that India has something for everyone, but it’s actually, truly absurd. The Sun Temples of Peru – why not the Sun Temple in Konark or Modhera? The safaris of Kenya – why not the trails of Kaziranga? The crafts of China – why not the silks of Kanchipuram? The peace of Bali – why not the retreats of Kerala? The question is why are we not taken seriously on the world stage. The United States draws in people to their National Parks because once upon a time they believed and knew they had something special. They invented their own model. Once in the US is never enough. India needs to adapt to this model. Once in India is never enough. 

    I think there are a lot of things wrong with the US model as well, don’t misunderstand me, but fundamentally, for a country as prideful as India – where is that Unity in Diversity we were taught us kids? Where are the symbols of India? Apart from a notable, polarizing, floral exception, the symbols of India are somewhat… missing in action? My vision for Indian tourism is about more than developed airports bringing the world in, or public transport and luxury hotels. I want to see license plates for each state adorned with symbols of those states, not just two letters reminding us where we are. I want to see an Air India that inspires national pride – but I can’t talk about Air India too long, I’ll get a cluster headache. All in all, India literally needs more symbolic victories!

    But here’s the catch. It’s not as simple as just saying India needs to believe in itself more. There is legitimate work on a socio-political scale that must be done. What good is a world-class metro in Delhi if women still feel unsafe? What is the point of screaming “Clean Up the Ganga!” when action is never taken? What is the point in saying “Incredible India” when only three states get to be Incredible? India’s worst enemy, as always, is itself. The powers that be will always elevate the cookie cutter India. The ‘Delhi-Jaipur-Agra,’ India.

    Our biggest monuments are testament to our Islamic history and yet communal tension is rife in India. We’re more concerned with our pathetic politics than living with hope and change for a better future, a better country. A county where Leh is a destination on people’s bucket lists and Kanha National Park is a given on every itinerary. We’re more concerned with restoring by-gone ecology in unsustainable ways in Kuno than promoting, say, Tadoba as a national treasure!

    Ultimately, I believe, the responsibility is in the government’s hands. We will always get in our own way until we decide we have more to say, and social responsibility of citizens is only possible with leaders that urge a sense of pan-Indian pride. If we treat our minorities poorly – why would any stereotype of India be positive? If we treat our sites and streets like trashcans – why would any stereotype of India be clean? The time to act is now! 

    With travel surpassing pre-Covid numbers, we have the rarest of opportunities to redefine the Indian tourism model. I’ll talk about Indian airlines at a later time. I can only deal with one headache a day. Our country is a treasure trove of experiences that is being hidden away in a cage of bureaucratic incompetence and poor social engagement. It’s easy to get on Twitter and say “India is the best!” and slam others who disagree, it takes real strength to fight for a better country. It takes real patriotism to believe your country can live up to its truest potential. 

    At the end of the day, Incredible India’s reputation is in all of our hands. Let’s treat her right.


    all opinions are the author’s own.

  • Trip Report – Tigers of Tadoba

    Where: Tadoba National Park

    When: June 2025

    Who: Rohith, Adithya

    There’s something about a safari. 

    You wake at the crack of dawn, mummified in your exhaustion, and drag yourself to the bathroom. The moment you lock eyes with the mirror, your raccoon-ish visage perhaps the first animal you’ll see today, you question:

    “Was this even worth it?”

    I mean, you’ve already flown thousands of kilometers to reach some heavily forested area – and for what? The vague possibility that you MIGHT catch a hog at the watering hole?

    But then, skip forward in time with me, and mount the jeep. Your broken Hindi carries you farther than you knew it could, but it’s not without some snickers. The slight nip in the air bites at your skin, but nervous anticipation keeps you warmed. The rumble of the Jeep rips through the air, and before you know it you’re whisked away onwards. Minutes turn to hours as you peel open your eyes to catch sight of a vague stripe or hazy plumage. 

    “This really wasn’t worth it.” 

    Lost in thought as the Jeep swerves to the right. You risk tumbling down to the road as seas of eucalyptus turn to a blur. Suddenly, it’s all worth it – because there she is. Resplendent in her apex predatory glow, a picture of elegance. She slinks her way down towards the watering hole, sure-footed and confident, simply flicking her eyes up to the caravan of now-silenced vehicles basking in her wake. She crouches to water, and satiates herself. Being this regal must be dehydrating. A flurry of camera shutters, in strides her brother. Royalty in your presence, you almost feel inclined to bow. 

    “This was totally worth it.”


    They say that Tadoba never disappoints. But it was honestly a close call. 

    Well, okay, that was a little unfair. Tadoba would have been magical even if we hadn’t spotted any tigers. Afterall, the ultimate gamble of safari is that you might pay the big bucks and never so much as see one!

    Corny jokes aside, this was my first time travelling with a friend, but not my first time at Tadoba. When my friend and fellow Fancy Pant, Rohith, came to town – having just finished a whirlwind trip to Japan – we both knew it was time for us to take a trip. See, the travel bug is a contagious one, and thank god we are both infected. 

    In three days time, we had ironed out every last detail, thanks in entirety to the efforts of Meera, Neha, and the good folks at Narmada Holidays. While this article is in no way sponsored (unless someone wants to retroactively give me money), I’m always happy to share the gospel of Narmada. Meera aunty, as she’s known to me, is who you want to be when you grow up. It’s not everyone who gets invited to the Aman-i-khas in Ranthambore for a Travel Stylist retreat! Detail-obsessed and luxury-inclined, Narmada is single-handedly responsible for my best travel memories. A special “thank you,” to Veni aunty at Pegasus Travels, as well. Booking a flight ticket is literally the easiest thing in the world when you’re on the case. 

    Now, getting back to the trip report. We departed Chennai for Nagpur in the morning. We shoved our clothes into roll-aways, and piled into my family mini-van to everyone’s beloved Chennai International Airport. There is no direct flight between Chennai and Nagpur, so we did have to change planes in Hyderabad after a 6 hour layover. AvGeeks, here’s the details of our trip. We boarded Indigo flight number 6E 834 flown by their infamous Airbus A320neo and arrived promptly at Hyderabad’s Rajiv Gandhi International Airport. After a quick Mac & Cheese break for me, and a Chicken Subway break for Rohith, we were boarding the ATR72 to Nagpur. This flight was surprisingly comfortable! The 2-2 configuration of the plane definitely had a certain bus-like quality to it, but nothing that couldn’t be handled in a roughly 90 minute flight.

    I’d now like to take a moment to address Indigo airlines’ food service:

    Indigo darling, sweetie, please please PLEASE retire that paneer tikka sandwich. The absolutely sinful combination of thick bread and cold paneer is an affront to the senses. I understand you’re a budget airline – or at least you were until you launched Stretch or whatever – but please if you’re gonna monopolize India’s skies – at least have some decent food. 

    Okay, that’s my last tangent of this article. 

    We were picked up at Nagpur’s Babasaheb Ambedkar International Airport and were picked up by the good folks at Trees N Tigers, our stay for the next 3 days. The drive out of the city was around 2 hours long – this was absolutely a long travel day domestically – but arriving at Trees N Tigers might have been worth it. Dearest readers, and bots that are scraping this article, this property is BEAUTIFUL. Opened only in 2024, this gorgeous property stands resolutely in a backdrop of ancient mango trees. Only 15 minutes from the Park itself, this property is elegance and quality through and through. We were greeted at their main building, a breathtaking vision of wood and glass lit with cozy yellow light, with a glass of cold watermelon juice. They also gave us these clay amulets with a tiger printed on them. The staff joked that the amulets help spot tigers – spoiler alert, they totally work. 

    After check-in, we were ushered to our luxury tent. I want you to picture a tent. Then I want you to forget said tent because this tent was no tent at all. Built on stilts 2 feet off the ground, this canvas and wood structure was nothing short of a hotel room. A massive bathroom with stone walls (which, I mean, how?), plush queen bed, and a sitting room are all hallmarks of this carefully appointed “tent.” Oh, and how could I forget – each tent has a private plunge pool.

    No big deal.

    The food and service were excellent, surpassing metropolitan international brands easily. We were “warned” that the staff were all from the local villages surrounding the Park and the hotel. We were requested to give them grace and forgive any hiccups. This was entirely unnecessary considering the quality of what was to come. I’m lucky enough to be fairly well exposed, and every facet of the caring, kind, and warm staff screamed professionalism and experience. Each day, each meal, we were greeted with more food than you could shake a stick at. Tandoori platters, panneer and chicken tikka, pasta, parathas, pizza (which actually kinda ate), soups and all manner of dessert were rolled out as if it were casual fare. Mind you, we’re in a mango orchard in the middle of a jungle. The food was such a solid experience, and the staff were absolutely the best part of the hotel stay. Actually, maybe the best part of the hotel stay was the fact we were the only guests on the property. Single, undivided attention. Luxurious as it was eerie. Off-Seasons really are something special. 

    Image Courtesy: https://www.treesntigers.com/lodge-tadoba/gallery/facade.html

    We did actually pay the extra fees for the naturalist to accompany us on the safaris we took – and I highly recommend you do the same if you venture to Tadoba. Our second day in Trees N Tigers (the first being arrival day) was our safari day. We reserved two slots: a morning safari and an afternoon safari. I highly recommend you also book two safari slots at the minimum. Tadoba is an absolute hidden gem of India and thanks to low visitor rates (at least, for now) and the sheer number of tigers in the area, sightings are pretty much a sure shot – if your guides know what they’re doing. However, as always there is no such thing as an absolute in the safari realm, a reality we became very well acquainted with. 

    Our morning safari was a flop. No other words for it. Having woken up at 5 am, and left the hotel at 5:30am, it was certainly a disappointment when for 1 hour of driving we saw zero animals. No birds, no deer, and certainly no tigers. We actually ended up cutting our losses and went back to the hotel early! This experience at the Moharli buffer gate really threw Rohith, myself, and our naturalist for a loss. We even considered booking an extra safari slot the morning before our departure – we were not leaving without seeing a tiger. The staff were more confident about our second safari. We had gotten tickets at the Nimdhela gate, a popular tiger sighting venue, but at T-Minus 1 Hour it was revealed that the ticket was actually for the Madnapur gate. Rohith and I were definitely getting nervous here. Things seemed to be falling apart – fast. 

    We nonetheless climbed into the Jeep after a sumptuous lunch, and ventured off through the buffer. This would be a good time to explain how Tadoba is laid out. Tadoba, like most other parks in the country, is split into core zones, and buffer zones. Core zones are typically treated as the main attraction as there is no human involvement in these zones apart from safari vehicles and the occasional ranger outpost. The core is also deeper into the park, and is surrounded by the buffer gates – where there is increased human activity. Namely a few houses for the local inhabitant of the park, and a greater ranger presence. Tadoba has a total of 6 Core, and 16 Buffer gates, with gates closing at different times in the week to give a restorative pause for the flora and fauna. 


    Our pro-tip of this trip is to NOT SKIP BUFFER GATES! There are incredible sights in these buffers, they might be open on days that work better with your schedule, and they are way less crowded. 


    I’m very happy to say that our second safari was the best wildlife encounter of my life. This isn’t a particularly high bar – I’ve only been to Kaziranga, Tadoba, and Periyar – but the bar set by 2025’s Tadoba is astronomically high. We drove through the ticket in search of life and were greeted by deer soon after entering the buffer. A kingfisher darts in a flash of lapis into the water, and a hawk screeches out atop of the trees. Already, we’re up by 3. Soon enough the phone rings – sighting near the lake. The tires screech as we  tear through the dirt roads to the lake. A secluded spot now cluttered with Jeeps and eager adventurers. Out she strolls, a vision in orange and black. The bolder of two siblings, this young tigress is one of the daughters of a famed mother here in Tadoba. As she tends to her thirst out, strolls her brother. He crouches down to tend to his thirst as we all gaze in wonderment. As the young tigress leaves the watering hole, engines rev once again – she remains unaffected. She knows she’s the star. We drive along in parallel. “She’s known to climb trees!” the naturalist whispers. We wait with baited breath as she approaches a tree, eyes locked on her target. 

    A rip in the silence. In comes barrelling in a Jeep stocked to the brim with uncles. In a flash, the tigress is gone, her brother gone with her. I will never forgive those uncles. 

    We went tearing through the forest to find them again, they couldn’t have gone far. We take a stop at a rangers station for some fresh Nimbu Paani, while we’re surrounded by butterflies mudpuddling their way through the season. Truly, something out of a fairy tale – but the best is yet to come! Our tracker informs us that off the path, there is an area where the tigers are probably camped out. The driver is confident he can get us there, but only once the rest of the cars leave. Now begins an interminable 45 minute wait. True, some will wait that long to get into an overpriced restaurant, but with a sighting on the line, every minute feels like an hour. Slowly, each jeep ahead of us peels off. Soon, it’s just 4 jeeps with us. I notice a rustle in the leaves;

    “Tiger!” I whisper-shout.

    “Good eye!” the naturalist returns.

    We just park there, watching as the siblings return to the same lake we saw them at before. Back for another sip, or maybe just to cool off, they lounge on the banks of the lake. Remember how we’re only 15 minutes from the park? Well, by virtue of this, we had the ability to stay in the park longer as the curfew inched closer, as it was just a zip back to the hotel. At last, as it was just us in the entire gate, a sight that seizes our hearts. The tigress lounges on the banks of the lake, the brother perched above the lake on a hill. Out of the blue, a sloth bear enters. Clumsy and downright goofy. It charges the young tigress, raises to its hind legs and shakes its fur menacingly. The tigress runs behind her brother, the sloth bear smug with what he considers a victory. He chuffs, and saunters up to the male, ready to finish the fight. He returns to his stance, rising to his hind legs when the male tiger runs up to the bear, roaring. The bear falls to its feet, its head ducked in shame and runs towards our Jeep. He seems to cover his face with his paw, almost out of guilt and runs right behind our Jeep into the forest. Us humans? We stare at each other with fly-catching mouths. A rarest of sights reserved just for us. Incredible.

    We returned to the hotel nearly speechless. The naturalist speaks up though:

    “Still want to book that drive tomorrow?”

    I smiled sheepishly. I was utterly trounced by Tadoba herself. 

    We travelled home the way we came, 2 hours to Nagpur, flight back through Hyderabad, and landed in Chennai. Just like that, the trip was done. We both knew that travel was baked into our friendship henceforth, with plans being hatched for future trips almost instantly. But that’s all in the future, it’s uncertain. 

    One thing, however, is certain. Tadoba never disappoints. 

    Check out our Instagram for the Bear Fight Video!