Tiger play

Its Monsoon time, the time when the heavens open up over the Indian subcontinent and lets loose a barrage of water. It’s the time when nature is at her best and worst. Creating and destroying with such intensity that when the monsoons are over, the very landscape on which she practised her art is transformed beyond recognition. To us city dwelling humans its is often a period where we face the fury of nature, with floods, powercuts and damaged telecommunication links, but to nature it is creativity at its most intense. I have often in the past had the chance to be stuck in some pristine semi forested area during a monsoon storm, and I could swear even the animals prefer to lie low and take shelter, however in the brief periods between these monsoon showers and during the less intense ones, nature is teeming with life…with so much variety that it is hard not to get overexcited just being a part of it.
If this is the case with living in a semi urban area, I could imagine what it is like in a full fledged natural forest. I can only imagine what my brother, the Tiger Man, will be experiencing. After a few months back at Dehra Dun, where he has completed the formalities of a PhD registration, the Tiger man has headed back to work on his beasts of interest.
Although Kanha National park, where he works is a lot of grassland, its forests are not too far from my imagination. As usual there will be the scary beasts of prey, overgrown pathways thick with undergrowth stimulated by the rainfall, ticks and leeches, thorns and mosquitoes, but this time there will also be thunder, lightning, and the incessant rainfall, all adding to the wonderfully scary and exciting atmosphere on which the Tiger man thrives! Kanha is a part of the region where Rudyard Kipling’s “Jungle Book” is based on and if you lack in imagination, all it takes is to remember the wild creatures of this beloved film.
The last time he came back from the forest, my brother was excited. He had just seen an amazing sight. A fight between two of the characters that are part of the Jungle Bookstory – Shere Khan, the tiger and Ka- the python. No this is no story, he visualised this in real life….and not just that, he was able to document it on film. He mentions that such events are a rare occurrence in nature and having the chance to capture it in photographs are even rarer.It seems even the local tribals in their entire lives in the forest had never observed such a thing. In Jungle book, if I remember correctly, Ka the python is too cunning to fall victim to Shere Khan, but not in real life. The battle ended in victory to the tiger, or tigress in this case, and the vanquished, badly bruised but still alive python was dragged by the tigress and given to her cubs to play with.
I’m no tiger expert like my brother is, but I’ve had my days with the domestic cat and i`ve observed such behaviour in them. Often a mother cat will catch a lizard or a frog and give it to her kittens to play with, and I’ve watched as the kittens would play with it like humans play football till all life has ebbed out of the hapless victim. Some would call it sadistic behaviour, but I guess it is nature’s way of providing experience and perhaps a bit of entertainment for the cuddly cubs.
Another interesting behaviour documented by the tiger man was that of a Jackal following a tiger! Jackals normally hunt singly or in pairs, but they are mostly known to be scavengers, feeding on the leftovers of prey from greater predators such as the tiger. An interesting fact about Jackals is that like (some, not all!) humans, they mate for life i.e. they stick with a single partner throughout their life. They are also known to hunt their own prey, including reptiles such as snakes…perhaps this one was just following Shere khan to discover where he could find a python for lunch!(he`s more likely to end up as lunch for the python!)...oops I almost missed the link....in the jungle book,Shere Khan has a wily henchman (or should i say hench-jackal?)named Tabaqui for company too...strange!
Now, look at this photo! It is quite one thing to follow an tiger riding an elephant (as is my brother’s everyday job) and I think it would be really exciting…but reverse the scenario and ooh...I can already feel the chill down my spine ! the last thing I want is for the spotter (hunter) to become the spotted (hunted)…but that’s the way nature sometimes works…when will we ever discover all her secrets!
So that’s it this time from the Tiger man’s enviable life. As I mentioned he`s headed to the forests to take on the might of the monsoon and gather vital monsoonal observations and tiger statistics. I wish him all the best in his endeavours, as I’m sure do all of you. Hopefully there will be more photos when he returns to quench the cravings of us urban folks!

A Taste of France.

One of the questions that I think about a lot these days is the question of fate. Do we all have a destiny? Is it fate that takes us places ? I really wonder, but it’s a difficult one to ignore...I would like to think that fate has a huge role in my life and is responsible for me being here now.
….and so it was that fate led me to apply for a PhD position in France. A series of incidents led me to it, although the subject of the PhD is not at all what I have been trained for.Interestingly, of the 190 candidates that applied, I happened to get an invitation for joining 24 other candidates for an interview.
I had less than two weeks to get my visa to head into the Station de Biologique, Roscoff, situated in Brittany, the north of France. This I succeeded in getting within a matter of days, unlike the cumbersome and lengthy process that is associated with British visa applications.
Very conveniently for me, Roscoff is situated right across the English channel and can be reached from Plymouth by a six hour ferry ride. However the overnight ferry takes a bit longer to allow for a relaxed sleep. When I mention ferry, it might bring to you thoughts of the local ferries in India - small boats modified to carry vehicles across rivers….be assured this was far from small….and it was no river we were crossing; It was the English channel. This ferry, named Pont L'Abbé is a ship, which could easily carry 470 and 1120 passengers, has 2 cinemas, two bars, a restaurant and a coffee shop besides 284 cabins.I spent a while admiring the comforts of the ship, and traversing the decks in the moonlight, before heading into my cabin to experience the comforts of a cabin.
I was woken the next morning at six by the clanging of an annoying bell, rung to awaken us passengers as we headed into Roscoff. I had been told that Roscoff was not very different from Plymouth….But I was to be pleasantly surprised as I alighted and was exposed to a little touristy village town.
Roscoff is actually a little fishing village situated in the Breton province of France, which has developed in terms of tourism, but has yet managed to maintain its strong French character. The seaside town is clustered around a small bay, with 16th-century granite houses, little shops, and bars and restaurants, hugging the shoreline. I was about to spend the next three days discovering the joys of French life!
Frankly, I expected to spend all the days cooped up in my room, preparing for the interview, but all that soon changed as I bumped into my first co.applicant, Stephen who incidentally travelled on the same ferry as me. With our rooms not yet ready in the institute’s hotel, Stephen and I had plenty of time wandering around the tiny town and noting the several marked differences from a typical English coastal city such as Plymouth.
It was a while before we met all the 20 or so applicants but it didn’t take long to bond between us. There were 5-6 Germans, 2 Portuguese, two Italians, a Canadian, two British, two Indians, and a Chinese in the group that we formed. What I was expecting to be a tense interview atmosphere soon turned into one of merry making.
When a day of interview session came to an end, we followed it up by a round of drinks at a local pub over a game of world cup football. The camaraderie was enhanced when we all decided to head out and have dinner at a common restaurant. I must mention, that the French attitude to food is much more welcome than the “boil/bake it and eat it attitude” of the English. Over my 3 days of stay in Roscoff, I have not just come to love the French food, but also detest the English sense of cuisine. I could not remember the names of the French dishes if I tried, but I do know that the Salidou crepe that I tried,in one of the many creperies there, briefly took me to heaven!
Crepes are a speciality of the French. Simply put a crepe is a pancake made of wheat, originally originating from Brittany When eaten as a desert, it is filled with a sweet filling, in mine it was homemade melted toffee and butter…mmm..i can hardly get the taste out of my mouth even now.
When done with the crepes, we walked around the entire town enjoying a cold evening breeze and catching up on each others stories. I must admit it felt great to be a part of this crowd. However the reality was that only 9 of us would return to Roscoff, when the results were announced, to be a part of the locality for the next 4 years. I wondered who among us would be the lucky ones.
One of my interviews was a disaster, as it was an entirely new topic for me, but the final interview did go on well. However my competitors are well established in the field and I don’t expect to be called back for selection. After the interviews we had lunch in the institutes own hotel with my interviewers and prospective supervisor. I realised that would be my last taste of the fabulous French food that I had been enjoying for the past few days…..To top it of, we had a desert made from sweetened white cheese (Fromage Blanc).
In the few remaining hours we had, we walked around and caught the final glimpses of this wonderful French fishing town. We also bought a copy of the local newspaper, in which a photo of us with the director was published.
Finally, after bidding emotional farewells to everyone, I headed to the ferry port to return to Plymouth.
As I said before, I don’t expect be called for the job, but this trip has given me not just a unique glimpse into the French way of life, but also an experience which I will treasure in terms of the people I met. Once again I believe fate has in store for me , something specific and perhaps this trip is just a preparatory experience along the way!

Adiós mis amigos (Farewell my Friends)

The past two weeks have been an emotional one for me, with the spectre of separation looming large upon the best friendship I have built up so far here. As I have mentioned in previous posts, my friends from Spain - Ovi and Martha - are heading back home after their stint here in the U.K. Although they are looking forward to heading back home, I can’t really put into words how much I will miss them.
With the weekdays occupied with our daily duties, it was the weekends that were left to us to spend our final moments together, and we decided to stretch it out as long as possible. It is frightening to stand up against time and realise there is so much to do in a limited amount of time.
Anyhow, we kicked of last weekend in the true English style of getting together for a session over a few drinks. Only that instead of heading for the pubs, we chose to go to the University students union, which is a pub of sorts which acts as the canteen by day and a disco by night, run by the university for its students.The student union is most active on the weekend nights, with the activity level gradually picking up as the night progresses, until finally at around 2 AM, it gets crazy enough to be closed.We had to find a relatively quieter spot in a corner to make ourselves audible over the blasting music and in between frequent escapades to the dance floor, our international group of friends (Spanish, Austrian, Latvian, British, American and of course the lone Indian- me) managed to chat the night away until the place closed for the night.
With barely a day to recover from the previous night, we once again got together at Ovi`s place. This time it was to watch an ever accumulating collection of movies, while continuing the blabber. To add to the cosy lazy mood, we gave up plans of cooking and decided to live it out on two massive made to order Pizzas which came with a buy 1 get 1 free offer! After what seemed like more than the actual 4 movies that we watched and with no track of the time, we finally had to call it a day (or night) and head back to our respective homes for another busy week ahead.
This week it was once again get together time to share a meal of spaghetti...which unknowingly turned out to be an all Italian meal with Italian pink wine and Viennetta ice cream. Ovi and Martha have plans to visit India later this year and I guess my stories about good old India have added to the fire. They in turn have invited me over to go to Spain. I hope both of these can be worked out soon.
The final get together along with our American friends Megan and Matt happened yesterday for a last supper. This time we decided to go for something more exotic and the best we could come up with was a Japanese restaurant in town called Yukisan.Japanese food is really popular in most western countries, and the most popular Jap food is of course the Sushi… for those that are not aware Sushi is a food made of vinegared rice combined with various toppings or fillings. The most common toppings are RAW seafood! (my friends in Japan, please excuse this !) O.k..I know exactly what most of you are asking now…yes I did eat it.What bothered me most was not that it was raw, but all the food poisoning issues linked with raw food that I had accumulated in my brain over the years of microbiological reading. Anyhow, my sense of curiosity prevailed over my fears and I decided to go ahead and finally taste what this famous food stuff was all about.
I ordered “Suzuki sushi” simply because the named seemed the most familiar to me. When served, the sushi turned out to be that made from the vinegared rice, topped up with raw pieces of Sea bass (a fish). Together with it came the accompanying condiments… soya sauce..called Shōyu, a hot chutney type stuff called Wasabi and a sweet pickled ginger quite unlike any other called as Gari. After a bit of struggling with the supplied chopsticks, I gave up and asked for a fork, and decided to put aside my reservations and have a go at the sushi. So, as instructed I mixed the wasabi in the shoyu and dipped the rice and fish in it and popped it into my mouth. I was half expecting my sense of taste to revolt, but I must admit it was rather appealinng in taste…the rest of my serving went down with relish replacing the curiousity. My verdict..good enogh to try once..especially with all the accompanying hype..but its not going to be on my list of favourites for sure. To compensate the raw taste I followed up the sushi starter with a deep fried tuna with sweet miso sauce..must say it was good…while my friends followed up with more helpings of susi..with raw salmon, raw shrimp, raw red snapper..and raw god knows what.When we finally finished an enjoyable meal, I kept waiting for symptoms of food poisonings which fortunately never occurred. We then headed over to the Plymouth Hoe to enjoy the late evening sunshine before the destined hour finally arrived when we had to bid each other farewell.
By the time this article is published in my blog, Ovi and Martha will be on their 18 hour ferry ride towards Spain. I wish them all the best for their future and I`m sure we will be meeting up again somewhere..the world is getting smaller by the day. Farewell my friends..until we meet again!