Gir-rrr, you’re on camera

There I sat, fitting the 300mm zoom lens into my new camera, smiling at the prospect of clicking some of my first wildlife shots as an amate...

There I sat, fitting the 300mm zoom lens into my new camera, smiling at the prospect of clicking some of my first wildlife shots as an amateur photographer. A photographer friend had lent me the lens. Good I did that, I thought, and spent the night fidgeting with it in the Gir forest guest house, anticipating the thrills that awaited me the next morning.

I couldn’t wait to enter the jungle. The night seemed long and the distant deep-throated roar of a lion excited and scared me. Dawn broke. No time was wasted. We got ourselves ready by 6 am to await the forest department gypsy that was to take us for the sightings. The air was filled with cries of the birds—chirpy sparrows, squawking parrots, raucous ravens.

This is mid-March and the morning air smelt crisp with a soft nip. We headed for the manager’s room and Manoj (who was to accompany us into the forest) was already there. I wondered how the rest of my three companions managed to remain so calm. After all, this was Gir and we were going lion-spotting. Finally we took off, with camera ready to shoot.

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Manoj was alert, his walkie-talkie kept buzzing. Whenever he slowed down, all of us would try hard to spot the big fellow. No luck. The radio screeched about the sighting of a male. Manoj stepped on the gas. But when we reached the spot, the animal had moved further into the jungle. Damn! We decided to try our luck at Kamleshwar Dam, part of the sanctuary. It was the most picturesque sight, the sun rays skimming the water. I kept clicking— deers, a monkey, a faraway alligator, but no lion. I was wasting the film, my companions told me. But I didn’t let them stop me.

Just then the radio crackled. A pride had been spotted —seven. Brilliant, this was my day. Manoj wasted no time. We raced on the bumpy, dusty road, almost falling out of the car to reach the spot. He stopped. We saw the rangers pointing towards something in the woods along the tarred road. We got down and looked. Three lionesses with four cubs, all a year old, just about a hundred metres away. I froze with awe, face-to-face with the magnificent beasts. The group had killed the previous night as their heavy bellies showed. Lazing under the morning sun, the mothers seemed relaxed even as they kept a guarded eye on us. The cubs were plain curious.

There was not a moment to lose. I began my shooting spree. They posed, and posed very well, looking straight into the lens. I didn’t stop. Then they stretched, rose and stretched again. All captured on film. They ambled to a nearby water hole, gathering around in a circle to drink.

What a scene! I was already imagining this photograph in a magazine like the National Geographic. I raised the camera and just when I was about to click, the film ran out. I had no rolls to spare. That’s how I lost out in capturing the shot of a lifetime. It was just not my day.