The sun’s last rays of the day shimmered through the aerobridge. I was returning from a week-long safari in Kenya. Moving along with the passengers boarding the flight to India, I tried to get as much glimpse as possible of the African sunset. I was concerned to know if my passion would go down like the sun. I could not believe that a sunset would trigger such emotions in me. Usually, my penchant for a place would cease with the end of the journey. But this was no ordinary journey. For me, no other wildlife on earth can be as exciting as that of the Serengeti's or the Masai Mara's.
The aircraft made a smooth ascend. With my sight set far into the horizon, I wondered if I would see the migrating wildebeests again. Decades of watching documentaries and reading about the symbiotic wildlife of East African savannah have helped me a fair deal in understanding and appreciating every part of the ecosystem that I witnessed.
The in-flight entertainment came on.
I unswervingly navigated to watch yet another documentary on African cats. I am fascinated with the incredible ways of life of lion prides. Their unique instincts, family bonding, hierarchy, hunting techniques, communication, timely detachments, social order, and etiquette; continue to captivate me. Lions are different from us, yet they are so similar to us. One good look at a lion’s countenance would transfer me to an unknown philosophical plane.
Turbulence interrupted my trance. I observed from the flight-tracker that I had crossed the equator and flying closer to my continent. The aircrew began serving drinks. I asked for my newfound favorite, “Tusker”; and discretely envied the Kenyans for having the savannah at their backyard. As I consumed the beer, I was consumed by what was being shown on the little screen in front of me. A mother cheetah was preparing to chase a Thomson's gazelle; and its approach showed signs of a high-speed chase to follow. My body began to prepare for handling the adrenalin that was set to surge in me. My brain by now has figured out that just a mention of anything pertaining to the big cats is enough to set off a bio-chemical reaction in me.
When the cheetah tried to match the gazelle’s speed, even the slow motion of the video could not help in slowing down my racing pulses. Within moments, the cheetah settled down holding the neck of the fallen prey by its jaws. As the chase had exhausted the cat, it reposed to catch its breath; and so did I. The connection in our actions was the palpitation.
As the alcohol relaxed my nerves, I reminisced that as a young boy I had asked my dad of adopting a cheetah cub. Years later, I had put up posters of lions in my hostel room, and even prayed to them. While I pondered over my inanity, I realized that all my passwords have a connection to Africa’s wildlife. This has been an obsession that never left me.
I woke up when the in-flight announcement crackled. To me, the pilot’s tone was better than many of his Indian counterparts, who would often be too loud and broken in making announcements. Few hours to touchdown, I learnt. The growing voices of the waking passengers brought me the thoughts of my safari buddies, who had been clueless about my excitement when I had seen the images, from a decade of imagining, being played out in the wilderness. The experience of even driving on the Mara was psychedelic, that took away all my materialistic learning and my soul.
Whenever I had attempted to do a SWOT analysis with the campers on the great herds of African plains, they were only keen on knowing about India and its modern day complexities; the discussions of which constantly lead to the history and religions of the subcontinent. Every time the guy from Norway would ask the Indians, what do you call this animal in India, or what do you have for breakfast; the three of us— from Punjab, Andhra, and Tamil Nadu— would give three distinct answers. I was unsure if the other couple from London were amused or confused; but during those moments, I understood the true meaning behind the cliche, “Unity in Diversity”.
The landing was usual. I unbuckled my seat-belt soon after the plane came to a halt. The initial messages that filled the inbox of my now active mobile-phone were from the Bank, indicating my overseas Credit Card transactions. Fortunately, most of the concerned messages were from my wife. Without her go-ahead on doing the safari solo, I would have let go of the opportunity of a lifetime. She knew it was impossible for me to contain my passion for the wild forever.
Hailing from a middle-class family of Indian standards, from the southern metro of Chennai, I had to stretch the budget that I had intended initially for the trip. The internet, which usually gives unbiased ideas on most travel types; chose to go in details in this case mostly for the European and American safari enthusiasts, and not much for solo Indians. Nonetheless, I could not have joyfully claimed, “Been there, done that” sans the internet. No one would ever capture the same moments that I saw during the previous week; maybe, except my DSLR.
I stepped out of the aircraft. The horizon glowed with the first sun-rays of the day. As I walked alongside the windows, I was curious to know how much of my passion for Africa’s wildlife was remaining. The rising sun that grew brighter gave me the answer.
Thank you:
- Rhino Tourist Camp, for the comfortable tent, the full board, and the safari.
- Kenya Airways, for the friendly crew and refreshments.
- The authorities concerned for the favorable Visa-On-Arrival procedure.
My sincere reverence to the great herds and the tailing predators and scavengers of Masai Mara / Serengeti for the spectacle!
