The lions of Gir

I saw this article in The Hindu today, and it reminded me of our 2011 trip, and our Kutchi summer. We made our own "lion movie",  and I got a history lesson at Junagadh.


Pride of the jungle - The Hindu

ZERIN ANKLESARIA

AP A lioness at a drinking hole inside the sanctuary.

TOPICS

Come October, and season begins in Gir, the home of the fabulous Asiatic lion. Zerin Anklesaria was there recently and, thankfully, lived to tell the tale.

On a quiet night, so they say, the roar of an adult male lion can be heard five miles away. No such roaring welcome greeted us as we drove into Sasan Gir with the moon riding high, but we were certainly in lion country, with road signs pointing the way to Mane Land Jungle Lodge, Lion’s Paw Resort, Pride of Gir, Elsa’s Lair, and so on.

For me, this was a sentimental journey, for my father had served under the Nawab of Junagadh before Independence and as children we had visited Gir, staying in palatial grandeur at The Royal Hunting Lodge. The Nawab, a great animal lover, rarely hunted and it was chiefly maintained for Indian rajas and British VIPs for whom a lion was a prized trophy.

A party of 20 of us stayed there for four memorable days in sybaritic luxury. This was soon after the then Viceroy, Lord Linlithgow, had left. The cellars were still stocked with the choicest wines, and the larders with cheeses, jams and canned fruit from Australia. The chefs cooked up mind-boggling meats, game and desserts.

Six of us little girls were allotted the master bedroom where the centrepiece was an enormous double bed with an 8-inch box-spring mattress imported especially for the Viceregal couple. Far from prying adult eyes, we spent our evenings using it as a trampoline to see who could jump the highest. The bed survived the onslaught. The mattress did not.

The world outside presented a harrowing contrast. A single tarred road led to the hunting lodge, and the Forest Officer occupied the only other building. Jeep tracks meandered through the forest and the Maldhari herdsmen merged with the hard, brown earth, living in poverty with their cattle in villages scattered across the 1400 sq. km of the sanctuary. In this semi-desert region agriculture was impossible.

Coming here now what a difference I found. We drove in from Rajkot on ribbon-smooth roads to the peripheral areas of the sanctuary — all neat, well-planned and free of garbage. With tourism has come unimaginable prosperity. Accommodation ranges from dharamsalas and budget hotels to the lordly Taj; canals supply water for gardens and cultivation; and local children study at an English medium school.

Our first safari started off rather tamely. I had the front seat in the jeep and couldn’t hear what the guide was saying. My information came solely from the grumpy driver who pointed out ‘snake’, ‘deer’, ‘mongoose’ and other uninspiring fauna in a single word. ‘Budd’ had me stumped, till he amplified. ‘Peacock’, he said.

It was just half an hour to closing time when we got the exciting news. A tracker came and whispered to the guide, who passed along the magic word ‘lion’. We took our place in a line of jeeps and waited in reverential silence as if in church. At last it was our turn to enter the sanctum and we moved down a track deep into the jungle. There, under the shade of a tree, we came upon them, two lionesses and five cubs, feasting on a nilgai. A thrilling sight but a poor photo-op, for the evening sun cast too many shadows and the lionesses were sitting low in the long grass, while bits and pieces of cub flashed in and out of the frame three-quarters two pointy ears, half a puckered face, a raised paw, a tail tip.

Later we encountered two angry lionesses rearing up on their hind legs, clawing and snarling at each other. Photo-op? Alas no! They were so enraged that our jeep had to keep a safe distance.

Back at the resort, everyone was envious. Some unfortunates had spent a packet on as many as three safaris, and seen only monkey, deer, and, of course, ‘budd’. Tourists often think that a lion sighting is guaranteed and, when disappointed, are vocal in their displeasure. A manager was once rudely roused from his slumbers by angry guests who had been out in vain since 5 a.m. They staged a gherao and shouted slogans, ‘Paisa vasool, paisa vasool’, demanding their money back.

The kings of the forest are as lazy as feudal monarchs. The male has only to guard his territory and propagate, which he does with maniacal zest. Everything else is left to the lioness. She must hunt for prey, feed and train her cubs and protect them from predators, including other lions. An adult male is the lord of his territory and eliminates all future rivals including his progeny, knowing that otherwise they will kill him when in their prime. The ‘sons’ in a pride are therefore highly prized, pampered and protected, both by their mothers and the Forest Officers. Patriarchy is as invidious in the jungle as outside it.

Lions are far more human-friendly than leopards or tigers, but only as long as one keeps within limits. In earlier days, the ‘pagis’ or traditional trackers, ever eager to display their affinity with the animal to visiting dignitaries, would place a handkerchief on the mane of a sleeping lion with the help of a stick, while another would retrieve it. However, one day, legend has it that the lion suddenly woke up, and both entertainment and entertainer came to a gory end.

Then there was the biker on his way to a local temple. Seeing a gorgeously maned specimen sitting quietly by the roadside, he whipped out his phone-camera and edged closer and closer until the lion took umbrage, and with a mighty swipe of its paw dispatched the foolish young man to the other world. In the jungle this lordly animal is king, and mere humans who disrespect his royal status pay a heavy price.

A Kutchi Summer: Day 5- The Nawabs of Junagadh and their makbara

I knew nothing about the Nawabs of Junagadh before my recent Gujarat venture - yes, I agree, I was a lousy student of history. For me, the trip has not only shown me lions and wild asses, Indian Coursers and Crested Larks, but it also brought me in touch with a part of the history of Indian independence and that dreaded P word - Partition.

Muslim rulers have been in Junagadh since the fourteenth century, and from the mid-eighteenth until Independence, Junagadh was under the rule of the Babi nawabs.

The sixth Nawab has this mausoleum.
The Mahabat Makbara, over the tomb of Mohammad Mahabat Khanji II, the sixth nawab

Amazing structure, and I just gawked at the Gothic columns, the Islamic domes, the somewhat European large windows...all together!
Click on the picture, and you will get to see the detailed work. I thought the quality of the work rivalled anything I had seen earlier.
The sixth nawab ascended the throne when he was 14, apparently, and ruled for 31 years. He is supposedly responsible for the mango orchards that Junagadh is now famous for. By this time, these nawabs were kowtowing to the "Agency", via the regent at Baroda.

More columns
The makbara was locked and this picture was taken through the grille gate. Strangely unmatched but colourful chandeliers as well!
It was dusty and unkempt inside, and silently reeked of neglect. Why is it not being cleaned regularly?

The Bahauddin makbara stood beside the Mahabat makbara. This was built by the PM of the seventh nawab, and he (the PM) lies buried here.

Less ornate than the Mahabat, it had these interesting winding minarets though.

So then we move ahead to the last nawab, the ninth one, Mahabat Khanji III, famous in India and buried in Pakistan. During my googling I discovered that he was a student of Mayo College, Ajmer. You may wonder, why this caught my attention, but a certain favourite author of mine also studied there!

So, Mahabat III is going along nicely, building dams (Willingdon dam), creating libraries, opening colleges, and being an extravagant dog lover (he had some 300 of them I believe, and used to throw birthday parties for them!).

He was also instrumental in putting a stop to lion hunting, preserving the Gir forests and the Gir cattle, so in terms of conservation in India, I guess he does have a place in history.

He was the nawab in 1947, and soon became friendless in India as he decided to accede to Pakistan. Much manoeuvering and dirty politics from both India and Pakistan, and he soon fled to Karachi, where he lived until his death, never returning once to his home soil. Matters were left to his Dewan to resolve and negotiate, and guess who the Dewan was?! Shah Nawaz Bhutto.

I also discovered that the descendants of Mahabat III continue to claim Junagadh as their state and part of Pakistan, as there is an instrument of accession, signed by the ninth nawab to Pakistan, and our Indian occupation of the state is therefore considered illegal.

Check out this site on the Junagadh state.

The two makbaras.The District Court building on the opposite side. There were lovely and tasty groundnuts being sold at the gate, at a price one-tenth that of the Madras prices!

We drove back to Sasan Gir, and soon it was time to leave for Somnathpur!.

The Somnath temple, destroyed, looted and vandalised countless times in Indian history. Linked with the cruelties of Mahmud Ghazni in every school-going child's brain in India. A temple whose wealth has attained mythical status.

And there we were at its gates, with a strong breeze whipping off the Arabian Sea, facing this mammoth, rather new-looking structure, surrounded by the usual set of temple hawkers, but unusually clean for an Indian temple town. As we moved to get in, we had to ensure we had no leather on us (belts, wallets not alloed), no phones no cameras, and there was security to ensure that everyone was decorously attired. My fifteen year old son was not allowed in, in shorts, and so waited at the gates for us, in a black mood.

The location of the temple is just fabulous, and I could have spent hours just standing and staring across the sea. But in its current, restored pristine state, my imaginations of times gone by were just not stirred...it was like a new Birla mandir, if you know what I mean.

Re-built in 1951, the structure is supposed to be a wonderful example of the Chalukya style of architecture. The ruins of the temple were pulled down in 1950, and Indian's first president Rajendra Prasad was said to be a moving force behind its current restoration.

Probably owes its existence to the ninth nawab!

It was time to head to the Veraval station, where this egret bade us farewell, as we all made our assorted ways back to our homes in Madras.

How fascinating is each and every state of India! Thirteen states that I have still not yet seen!

A Kutchi Summer day 4- The diary

They were flowering everywhere. Doodla?, the guides said. Used to make junior cricket bats (not strong enough for the pro ones) As per Dr Rajaram via Mr Ramanan, it is Wrightia tinctoria, the indigo tree. Doodhi, not Doodla)

The Rainbow hotel beds were obviously not made for comfort, and with much groaning and moaning, I made my way towards the loo, in order to complete my morning ablutions. Ablutions done with, there was tea. Tea done with, there was the ride. I'll start from there as the tea was a very routine affair by now.

Adhi, Dhanush, Chandru and me joined Dhruva and Vijay uncle for the ride. The 4 of us juniors shared 4 cameras and not much bird identification expertise. Therefore, Vijay uncle and Dhruva were relied upon completely.

In a short while, a lion was spotted wandering in a nullah.
Adhi, even after much pointing and binocular viewing, was unable to spot the creature, and became the local laughing stock for a bit. After following our fellow Chennai-ites around for a bit, news passed on that Vikas' jeep had seen 3 leopards. Jealousy can very easily turn the least bothering people into the most vigilant and perseverant.

This very same quality overcame our jeep, and silence reigned for the next hour, as everyone kept their eyes doubly peeled for the leopard. To our credit, we came close. Twice. We heard alarm calls and all that jazz. We also saw the monkeys that had seen the leopard. To our discredit, the jeep in front of us saw it. Grumbles abounded as we thought we had been cheated. Wild boar at a water-trough. They fled soon after.

Sambar - we saw more here than at any other sanctuary that we've been to.

Towards, the end of the journey, all enmity, envy and jealousy were forgotten and a cunning story was concocted to show our superiority to Vikas. And of course, being us, the story was completely unbelievable! To my memory, it ran something like this: We saw the leopard and jackal playing cricket. Upon the discovery of their activities, the chital berated them, only to be berated itself by the lion who said no animal would scold another under his watch. You have to admit, its brilliantly ridiculous!

So, we reached the hotel to find the little prodigy loudly proclaiming his achievements of the day. (See how competitive we were?!!) This lent a lot of feeling to our storytelling, and by the time we were done, all the parents were staring very dubiously at us. Shortly after our story was exposed as a sham, breakfast was had and bags packed for our move to the Lion Safari resort, where we would complete our stay.

Jeeps loaded, we waited impatiently for the drivers to show up, because the jeeps were standing in the sun. Adhiaman, after a lot of pleading and persisting, was sent to find a driver, after having being taught two Hindi words 'Driver Bulana'. He walked off gamely, only to come back with a bewildered look on his face. His reply, 'Aunty, avan reply pannitan', had everyone in splits and was the punch line of the anti-Hindi movement for the next few days.

The driver soon arrived and we were off to Lion Safari, where it was tented accommodation with AC. And showers, believe it or not! So once we reached, rooms were slowly allocated, as guests were yet to leave some of the rooms. Once settled and lunched, the kids hit the games room and pretty much stayed there until it became time for the evening safari. The Lion Safari campus, with mango trees. The tents were on either side. My mom saw the trees full of mangoes, and pleaded with the chef to give us mangoes, so they cut a few and made us some salad!
The view from the resort down to the Hiran river. Nice area. My mom was always birding here, and I was in the games room to the right, playing billiards, or some form of it anyway!

A little temple on the other side of the river
A croc slithers into the water. Good thing it didnt decide to come the other way!
Cattle egret in breeding plumage posed for me (on the river bank).
Gir cattle - a subspecies of Indian cows. We went for a walk along the river's edge.
The Hiran river - upstream. With a check dam. This is where the crocs are.

Downstream where people were happily washing clothes, so I suppose no crocs.

The kids, after loud protestations, got ourselves our own jeep. And Bikku. Note to all those concerned:Bikku was the unofficial local head of the lion spotters union. So off we went with everybody following us. Round and round we went, with me spotting my Afirst Jackal.Even the chital thought we were crazy
Jackal!

Finally we reached a portion of the forest where four lions were snoozing. Of course, word having spread, all the tourists in Gir were at the spot and the forest guard was rationing time between jeeps which led to much Gujarati we did not understand between Bikku and said guard, and the photos posted earlier. All of us were now suitably happy and drunk with success, headed back, with only detours to see a CH Eagle nest and to go shopping at Sinh Sadan, the forest department headquarters. Hats, shirts and other paraphernalia purchased, we headed back to Lion Safari, to freshen up, play some billiards, and have some dinner.
The Sinh Sadan

P.S.: The story told to the parents was that we had seen four leopards, since the kiddy story would not not fool them. Also there was a CSK match that afternoon, which led to the gathering of cricket watchers in the games room after the evening ride. Since we had seen enough lions, mummy, me and some of the others hatched a plan to visit the historic town of Junagad the next day.

A Kutchi summer - Day 4 - Tryst with the lions

Junior photographed these lions, lazy in the summer heat of Gir.

The lions of Gir, in this home video. Thank you iMovie!

The Day 4 Dairy continues.

A Kutchi summer - Day 3 - On to Sasan Gir!

A Kutchi summer - Day 2 - is here.

Once again I was prodded awake (I was getting used to this and woke up on the second prod) at some unearthly hour, told that we were reaching Veraval. All morning rituals were done and our compartment sat in groggy anticipation of our imminent arrival at Veraval station.

Scheduled time came and passed and mutterings arose that 'the Railways was not like this in the old days'. Minnie, being enterprising and also the one with the internet on her phone, decided to check the schedule. She then very calmly proceeded to tell us that we were an hour late amidst much groaning and moaning from yours truly. Oh well, nothing I could do there.

Finally, we reached Veraval, which was significantly cooler than LRK. Bad news awaited us on the platform, as Pritam uncle had to head back due to personal problems. Upon hearing the news, we all morosely headed for the exit. I missed one of my "roommates" for the rest of the trip.

While we were winding our away down the over-bridge, Shantaram uncle delivered the best news of the day: Chennai had won the previous night. I wasted no time in informing Vijay uncle who very vaguely brushed it aside. Round one to me.

We piled our luggage and ourselves into the six Qualises that had arrived and set off to the Rainbow hotel.

We were now in Junagadh district I learnt. It was very different from LRK, green, with mango orchards and farms all along the way. It was about an hour and half to reach Sasan Gir, the town for the Gir lion sanctuary. All along there were boards proclaiming, how we were nearing the ONLY remaining home for the Asiatic Lion in the world!

Dhanush next to me dozed off while I tried hard to stay awake. Suddenly we noticed a small building where everybody was staring at us. Suddenly Vijay uncle realized that that must have been Rainbow Hotel, and we turned around.

Indeed it was Rainbow, and our companions of the other Qualises had been wondering where we were heading to. All snafus sorted out, we buried ourselves in breakfast and hot tea, before heading out for a very late morning Safari. My jeep for the morning was the photographer's jeep and I ended up getting loads of tips from Doc Alaganandan, Sivakumar sir and Hariharan sir.

We spotted our first Lion, enjoying his morning siesta in the shade of a small dried up nullah. Much excitement for us, as for me and mom, it was a first ever wild lion sighting. OK, it had its back to us, and slept through our excitement but what the heck?)

We moved on, hoping to perhaps spot more, but we spent the rest of the morning going around in circles, ending with me dozing off in the jeep and the others actually spotting some birds. We then headed back for lunch and a nap.

The afternoon saw everybody in their respective rooms and nobody strayed out, now seasoned veterans of the Gujju afternoons. The evening ride saw me doing what I never thought I would do, I climbed into mummy's jeep.

No lions greeted us, though several raptors put in appearances to save our evening from being a complete flop (Though Vijay uncle scared away an Eagle by yelling at everyone else to shut up!). We also passed through a Siddhi village. For those who are clueless, the siddhis are Africans that moved to India as slaves and ended up setting up establishments in Gujarat. They speak such fluent Gujarati, you will NEVER make out the difference.

Passing through the siddhibari village, where a game of football was on. A few of our guides were also from this community.

Siddhis soon done and dusted with, we saw a Changeable Hawk Eagle enjoying a dry martini in front of us. Cameras snapped away!

The Changeable Hawk Eagle, with my film camera

With efficiency to make the Red Bull F1 pit crew proud, the jeeps loaded up and headed back to our safe sanctuary at the Rainbow.

Upon arrival, the customary baths were had and Panneer Butter Masala Dinner was cooked, but not before one of the greatest Indian traditions was embraced- the power cut. Dinner done away with and beds looking inviting, the number of people staying outside their rooms slowly dwindled away and the day merged into the next.

Methi parathas being made

NOTE: The Asiatic Lion (Panthera leo persica) is found only in Gir and in Iran, unlike the African Lion which is found in larger numbers. It has a small population that has increased in the past 5 years.

(The lions are coming, all of us saw loads the next day, so be patient!)

Read about our tryst with the lions.

The countdown begins

'The Great Rann'- album sample by Listening Earth on SoundCloud

By the Navjeevan express

Anticipation suppress

Let it not be late

The Rann awaits.

Wetlands, endearing wild asses

moonscapes, wide open spaces.

Dusk falls as the Francolins call

Will we see Banni grasslands tall?

Across the Kutch we shall ride

to catch the roar of the pride.

Asiatic lions, the only den remains

protected by the Nawab of Junagadh on the Gir plains.