The Silent Hills
... a few days in the Nilgiris
Text and photographs: Shaheen Mulla-Feroze
Madumalai and Bandipur are only a couple of hours away from Ooty, but being easily accessible, they are way too crowded and animal sightings are restricted to monkeys, elephants and deer. Those who want a true taste of the jungle must travel further to Kabini or Nagarhole.
 It's interesting to see how the landscape changes as you come down the mountain. The vivid colours are replaced with dusty shades of parched earth. The land around here looks bleak and unwelcoming, with few signs of life for miles and miles. The heat rises up from the ground and burns into you until your so much you wish you could peel it right off your body.
In retrospect, our trip to Nagarhole was well worth the long, uncomfortable ride. There were moments there, though, when we felt otherwise. We entered the National Park shortly before sundown. Less than a mile into the sanctuary the tired old van died on us. A canter drove by shortly afterward and the driver got out. But he hadn't stopped to help us as we'd thought -- just to warn us of the wild elephants that roam this part of the forest, which could very well trample us.
 Fortunately, the collective force of eight frightened people managed to give the van the push it needed to start up, and we made it to the lodge by nightfall. The darkness there is even denser than it is here in Lovedale. The foliage blocks your view of the sky, and the only light outside comes from the symphonic movement of the fireflies. The blackness magnifies the muffled sounds of the outdoors into a roar, until you're convinced that there's a tiger at your doorstep just waiting to get at you.
That in itself is wishful thinking. Tigers are scarce in these parts. The forest officer who accompanied us to the forest the next morning said that the last census counted only 22 tigers in the 10,000 acre park, making likelihood of us seeing one slim to none.
 No sooner were the words out of his mouth than we saw the head of a tiger peeping through the brush less than a hundred feet away. It was so still that for a moment we thought that we'd imagined it there. But the flashing green eyes that stared disdainfully at us were very real. The tiger stayed for a few moments, as if to indulge us, and then disappeared into the forest. Those few moments, face to face made our bumpy trip down the mountains worthwhile.
The only predators in Lovedale are wolves, and the occasional panther. Amulraj says that his dog, Tommy, was killed while trying to protect his cows from a panther, right in the front yard. The story, however exaggerated was enough to keep us indoors once the sun went down.
 As I sit here on this tree stump, reliving the past two weeks in my mind, the others have been busy getting ready to leave. The sounds are getting louder now, as they move to the front of the house. Soon we'll load up the van and begin the long journey back to Bombay. As I scramble up the hill for the last time, I hear a distant whistle. I pause for a moment, waiting for the train to pass, but the hills are silent
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