The fearless swimmer of Bandhavgarh Tiger Reserve

The evening air is thick with anticipation.

A convoy of cars on the morning safari spent eons tracing fresh tiger pug marks around the edge of Darra Talab (pond), all in vain. Judging by the size of the pugmarks cheerfully imprinted in the wet mud, we can discern it’s a male.

Who could it be?

“D1 ho sakta hai ya fir Pujari ho sakta hai,” (It could be D1 or Pujari) confidently asserts the guide.

Had this been early 2023, our guess would have leaned towards Chota Bheem, rather than D1, skulking around the water hole. Both Chota Bheem and Pujari are formidable descendants of the blue-blooded Bheem and Mahaman Female, born from a litter of 4 cubs – 2 brothers and 2 sisters.

Tables turned when D1, skedaddled from Dhamokar buffer towards Khitauli, expanding his kingdom, and compelling Chota Bheem to tread the less-traveled path.

Can Tigers Share Territories?

Darra presents an anomaly in Bandhavgarh where the territories of these two male tigers overlap. It’s uncanny. While female tiger territories may intersect, the stakes for males are astronomically high. A male tiger daring to pilfer an inch of rival territory risks a brutal faceoff.

A trespasser is a mere criminal in this megalomania.

Can A Tiger Swim?

Not only can it swim, but it is an intrepid swimmer.

With a neurotic dread born of ashen experiences, the guide instructs the driver to wait at another water hole near Darra. A gypsy at this water hole quietly signals us over. Buoyed by a rotund body and silent strength, the tiger cuts through the water with swift celerity. He must feel the strain of being on display for the soirée, yet for now, he conceals it behind a veneer of proud desolation — the kind that comes with being a sovereign. A sultan.

Pujari - The Reverend Priest

No wonder his proclivity for swimming has earned this approximately 6-year-old tiger the moniker Pujari, translating literally to priest. A priest who ritualistically performs ablutions in the water hole. Some locals believe he regularly skinny-dips in the evenings, but, of course, these are just rumors that add to Pujari’s dramatism.

He glides through the flyblown waterhole with his lithe body, then embraces a tree, rubbing up and down against the bark in supple movements. “Favorite tree,” the guide jests. We can’t help but smile.

How peculiar! Just watching him makes time stop.

Photo Credits: Ozair Bakht

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