07/03/2026
6 March, Friday, 3 pm at Karhandla Wildlife Sanctuary, Umred.
Nearly 3 uninterrupted hours, I with my family witnessed a rare privilege:
He slept. He slowly turned sides. He stirred, lifted his head, glanced toward us, shook his great mane lightly, and drifted back into sleep — this time sprawled on his back, all four legs raised in complete ease. Scarcely two or three metres away.
So close that the silence was broken only by the deep, rhythmic sound of his breathing. And then he rose, unhurried, dignified. He walked slowly around our Gypsy, circling us like a curious emperor examining unexpected guests. Then he moved toward the lake. He lowered his great head and drank deeply, the water reflecting stripes that seemed painted by nature’s finest brush. Soon after, he stepped into the lake, in the cool water he bathed leisurely, then shook his massive body with powerful grace, scattering droplets of water, some falling so near.
He then turned back toward the forest. Yet before disappearing into the deep jungle, he paused.
For two full minutes, he stood barely four feet from our vehicle, staring directly at us — calm, confident, utterly aware of his power.
And still the performance was not over. As if aware that the moment deserved a grand finale, he approached a tree. We thought he might climb it, but it was his time for gym, he stretched his magnificent body against the trunk, extending his muscles with the elegance of an athlete finishing an evening exercise.
Then, without drama, without hurry, he walked away in the forest.
Like a model walking a ramp with effortless confidence.
Like a master performer giving his finest pose before the camera of nature.
Majestic.
Mesmerizing.
Unforgettable.
