Growing up and living in cities, many, many miles away from anything that can be called wild, one perhaps construes a new definition for ‘wild’ as in phrases like "taking a walk on the wild side". The physical edge of the wild ends in mental extrapolation. Of course, television channels bring home images from Masai Mara and Ranthambor. But as yet intimacy and scale are two factors that still cannot be transmitted by the box. Neither can the sounds of silence or the oxygen rich air be pumped into our caves. That’s why when the bus got stuck in the evening traffic jam in Bangalore on our way earlier from Nagarhole National Park the sheer sensory assault was registered with renewed urgency. Only 24 hours back, the trumpeting elephant 40 yards away had made my hair on end.

It had already been an hour south of Mysore. The jungle should be around us according to my expectations. When the signboard proudly proclaiming the jurisdiction of Rajeev Gandhi National Park, better and more beautifully known as Nagarhole (Snake River), passed by I still could not see anything except minor clumps of trees in a half cultivated land. A small hutment passed by and then imperceptibly, thick woods of teak and other deciduous trees gave company on both sides of the road. The mind became alert and birds that one never sees flashed past the vision frame. The first elephant was also spotted. We were going towards a bend in the Kabini River which flows along the southern edge of the sanctuary.

Nagarhole was the erstwhile game reserve for the maharajas of Mysore. The park was established in 1955 and the area was increased to 644 square km in 1975. It is actually a part of the vast wilderness that survives where the borders of the three states of Karnataka, Tamil Nadu and Kerala meet. Large concentrations of teak trees, especially in the outer periphery of Nagarhole, might look impressive to the visitor but they are the result of logging and subsequent plantations in the early years. But the jungle has its way of accommodating changes and even this outer periphery is one of the best places to see the local wildlife, including large mammals like the tiger, leopard, elephant and gaur. The inner core of the park is closed to visitors. The damming of Kabini River in the 1970s resulted in the inundation of a dozen or so villages that have been relocated near Karapura and in the interceding years the pressure on the nearby forest has increased due to rise in human and cattle population. The forest rest house is low on the scale of arrangements (one has to carry supplies) but has a right-in-the-middle-of-the-forest location. And of course, one has to knock thick administrative doors. But there is a better option if one has a fat purse. The Kabini River Lodge where we were heading has been voted by one British travel magazine as one of the five top spots for wildlife viewing in the world. The choice of accommodation includes cottages and tents with comfortable interiors. After a huge lunch in their thatched and elevated round room overlooking the tranquil river and the distant ranges, a trained forest officer gave a short introduction to the ways of the forest. The topography was undulating, ranging from 800 to 850 metres. Numerous streams and rivers criss cross the area including the Nagarhole River which snakes its way through its middle. The forest is home to animals like the four horned antelope, jungle cat, civet, spotted deer, barking deer, elephant, wild dog, sloth bear, flying fox, tiger (a healthy 60 at present count), gaur (Indian bison), sambhar, wild boar, bonnet macaque and pangolin. Among the 250 bird species found here, the prominent ones are the common babbler, bee-eater, bulbul, dove, crested serpent, Malabar pied hornbill, peacock, woodpecker, warbler, great Indian reed, eagle, crested hawk, blossom headed parakeet and the southern tree pie.

It was 4 p.m. and time to go for the jeep safari. Expert trackers and guides were assigned to each jeep. A tiger had been spotted , we were told. With each crackle of the radio fitted inside the jeep there was hope of news of tiger sighting from other jeeps. The sudden iridescent blue of the woodpecker or the flight of the rackle trailed drongo, though magnificent was not enough to compensate for the adrenaline rush of a tiger encounter. But I had to revise my opinion a second later when I saw my first herd of Indian bison or gaur and the riveting sight of a bull gaur.

Early next morning, when the mist was still hanging all around, the boat-ride up the river was a chance to be close with the birds. For those with something more adventurous in mind, the traditional round basket-shaped coracles provided an ideal way to spin through the river.