Waiting patiently at a watering hole that's known for leopard sightings, we sat quietly, observing the parched jungle bleed its amber appearance into a sinister darkness until the moon rose. Four vehicles waited in quiet anticipation without the obligatory "Kuch dikha?" exchange, a scene you'd be hard pressed to find in any other Tiger Reserve. The sun had almost set. A barking deer inched closer to the water, wary of the humans yet cautiously proceeding. Later, a tree pie got its fill. It was calm out there except for the occasional peacock's call. None shifted in their seats out of frustration or boredom. That is Satpura for you, quiet and natural.

Madhya Pradesh's criminally underrated national park, Satpura is stealthily coming up as an excellent escape for nature lovers. Those who can see the forest for what she is and not only as a sum total of its inhabitants, Satpura is where you should go once you've seen a Tiger. Because it is only here you'll be taught to see and experience the jungle as it is, without the pressure of chasing the big cat. But of course, big cats and big bears abound here along with pretty birds and sneaky reptiles.

Come with Forsyth Lodge and me as I tell you how I fell in love with this unlikely national park that's setting new standards for responsible wildlife tourism.

The moon had risen as well behind us already. We drove though the buffer zone that night under a moonlit sky. Nightjars relentlessly called out. Indian gerbils scampered by our side and an Indian hare ran into the rocks startled by the sound of our vehicle. Green eyes flashed in the bushes; we strained our eyes and ears to see if we could find the creature. Nothing but the emptiness of a shadowed forest stared back at us. We drove later through a meadow; the stench of a dead carcass filled the air. Twice actually.

Now Satpura is one of the very few national parks in the country where night safaris are legal. Realizing the need to engage the wildlife enthusiast holistically and not just take them on a big cat chase, the folks working in Satpura have convinced the government to allow night safaris in the buffer zones. From screeching insects to metronomical call of nightjars and glowing eyes to rancid stench of a recent kill, the jungle felt through our other senses without the aid of sight is an inherently primal and deeply invigorating experience.

The next morning, we drove leisurely observing Spotted Owlets, Plum headed parakeets, White throated kingfishers, Scarlet Minivets, Serpent Eagle, Jungle Fowls as well as the blazing red leaves of Kusum tree, tightly-packed cream coloured flowers of Giriya tree set against the blue sky and the yellow Mahua blooms that filled the air with a sweet aroma. Meanwhile, a Honey Buzzard circled high above the trees, using the hot air thermals to rise up and look for prey.

Almost wandering aimlessly, we stumbled upon one spot where the foul smell of a recent kill filled the dry air. We drove past the stench in a hurry, the forest uncharacteristically hushed. Neither a single bird song nor a distant alarm call pierced through the silence. Nothing except the steady rattle of the engine broke the silence of the forest.

Suddenly, Aadhar Singh, our expert forest guide lifted his arm and nonchalantly announced, “there’s a Tiger, let’s go back!”. To put things into perspective, there are probably 50 tigers spread over an area of 1200 sq kms of core area and we may have just gotten a chance to see one! Crouching between the dried undergrowth, white stripes and lazy eyes stared back at us. We stared back in quiet disbelief. "Mahina guzar jaata hai yahan ek Tiger dikhne mein”, Aadhar Singh grinned, quite pleased with the sighting. "Badi billi mili, badi billi" his voice cackled on the phone later. We stared in disbelief still; the rarity of the moment hadn’t sunk in yet. The Tiger, not used to the prying eyes of humans, quietly moved into the thicket and we left with a profound sense of gratefulness then. Satpura had already set unrealistic expectations at this point.

The next morning, Radhe Lal, a lean man with a keen understanding of the forest and an air of assurance about him, was our forest guide. Little could surpass the previous day’s sighting but the forest was feeling generous with the poor humans who braved the searing summer heat of central Indian jungles. In quick succession, we first spotted a black bear scurrying into the bushes and minutes later we also happened to track a leopard cub crouching by the grass.

When we set out on an evening canoe safari on the brimming waters of Denwa River later that day, river terns and many other water birds created quite a spectacle on the islands trapped between the flow. But there was one standout, the spectacularly orange-beaked Indian Skimmers. Their long bills glittering like jewels in the evening light, we were told Skimmers are only seen here apart from the risky Chambal river region, their primary breeding ground. So it was quite special, to be able see them skim the waters here in Denwa.

One of the more exciting things to do in Saptura is to take a walking safari inside the core zone. Being on foot inside a teeming forest is a great leveler; it takes away all our unjustified pride and fills us with deep humility and an awe of the great wilderness. That particular morning during our short walk, we knew for sure that a leopard saw us move through its territory and stealthily walked past us. How do we know? Fresh pugmarks on the trail we treaded just minutes before. Relief was the bigger emotion than missing the action then.

Satpura’s landscape, the forest and its inhabitants are definitely special. But it was something else that left a lasting impression on me - the strong sense of ownership and a great respect for the wilderness in the community that worked in Satpura. It was Deepak, a young naturalist from Kerala interning with Forsyth at the time of my visit, who first offered a shining example of the ethos of Satpura and the wonderful way the tourism is managed here. Observing the bear frantically move deeper and deeper into the bushes one morning, Deepak said, “The bear is stressed. Let's not worry it more now that we've had our sighting.”

It was nice to hear those words; see that concern for wildlife. “When there's a Tiger sighting, all the other animals go into hiding for fear of the apex predator. The forest goes eerily quiet for 2-3 days right after. So we're not always excited about a Tiger sighting”, he helpfully added. Not just that, all the forest guides here are all part time workers and villagers who grew up in and around the national park. During a walk along the banks of Denwa one evening, I casually commented to one of the forest guides, Khet Singh, about the trash in the river. He personally felt responsible for it, apologised and collected the plastic trash lying around, stuffed it in his pocket to dispose later.

These guides could spot a big cat or a small spider with equal and admirable effortlessness as well as interest. They are all young and their energy is palpable, what they're missing in wrinkled experiences balances out with their high enthusiasm! It was surreal, to see how much these guys were in sync with the forest and her cues. I only wish more of us could learn to understand nature so intimately.

If I have to think of one phrase to describe Satpura, it'd be “a box full of surprises"! Once you’ve had your fill of Tigers, head to Satpura and see what the jungle feels like in all its glory.

Make it happen

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Situated at the edge of Satpura National Park, Forsyth Lodge is an eco-friendly lodge spread amidst 44 acres of reclaimed jungle. There are 12 cottages, featuring an earthy style that offers great comfort and luxury within the wilderness but built in ecologically responsible ways. From your room, you can watch the stars at night as well as observe wildlife during the day. The folks at Forsyth are one of the pioneers of conservation-based wildlife tourism model in Satpura which makes a visit with them all the more pleasurable.  More details here - http://www.forsythlodge.com/

Spend you time between jeep, walking and canoe safaris as well interacting with the knowledgeable naturalists as well as guides at Satpura National Park.

Note: My trip to Satpura was sponsored by Forsyth Lodge, opinions are my own nevertheless.

Under the veneer of Rewa’s insipid “dusty little Indian town” feel is a treasure trove of forgotten history and an intriguing past that has comfortably faded into oblivion. At first glance, I couldn’t understand what made Madhya Pradesh Tourism send me this way, to this obscure place with nothing remarkable in sight. Little did I know that I was actually being sent down the rabbit hole of vanished stories.

Rewa is a little town in northeastern part of Madhya Pradesh and the erstwhile capital of Baghelkhand region in the past and Vindhya Pradesh in modern times, which was later merged into Madhya Pradesh. Today, you would be hard pressed to find anything evocative of the past glory but there are several mute witnesses in the form of crumbling and dilapidated ruins within the maze of modern constructions that tantalize you with the lure of a secret.

Walking along the banks of Rani Talab in the heart of Rewa I first noticed the remains of a temple with fragmented top and shrubs growing through the cracks in a dark corner. The next morning while looking for a museum of some sort, few more crumbling buildings in utter ruins scattered amidst the town came to my notice. It was only when I entered the colorful fort gate that I realized Rewa was a place of consequence in the past but has now fallen into a chasm of despair stuck between negligence and bad memory.

It was here that young emperor-to-be, Akbar, was given refuge for a while during which period he developed a close friendship with the prince of Rewa Ram Singh who would later go on to become the Maharaja of Rewa. In fact, two of the renowned “Navratnas” of Akbar’s court, virtuoso Tansen and ingenious Birbal were sent by Maharaja of Rewa kingdom after Akbar’s ascension to throne.

Inside the fort was Baghel Museum, a dilapidated section of the fort renovated to hold various paraphernalia belonging to the Baghelkhand dynasty that ruled Rewa and the surrounding districts of Satna, Shahdol, Sidhi as well as Singrauli and Chitrakoot of Uttar Pradesh since 13th century.

Geographically located next to the now famous Bundelkhand, Baghelkhand also holds similar treasures as its celebrated neighbour but is unfortunately ignored and forgotten for some reason. The only time Baghelkhand has ever come to the forefront of news was when the princess of Rewa came into limelight on silver screen for participating in Dance India Dance and embarrassingly enough when the museum was raided and looted by thieves who got away with historic artefacts worth crores! Despite the royal family still being alive and affluent, they have conveniently ignored their past treasures and maintained the museum only perfunctorily. There wasn’t a guide available knowledgeable enough to take me through the history of Baghelkhand and its rulers but the collection itself was quite fascinating. Ming vases gifted by the Chinese, delicate perfume bottles, weaponry and shields belonging to their soldiers, coat of arms and gifts from Queen Victoria among others were at display in a large hall.

In the adjoining room was the most treasured of Rewa’s riches, the taxidermied remains of Mohan, a white tiger captured as a cub in the wilds of Madhya Pradesh in 1951. White tigers are Bengal Tigers but with a recessive gene that causes absence of yellow coat color. Maharaja Martand Singh wasn’t content with just seeing this beauty in wild but wanted to lock it in like countless others who see no irony in restraining wonder. Mohan has since left behind an unfortunate legacy of fathering an inbred lineage of every known white tiger in the world at this point.

Mohan was first mated with normal coloured Royal Bengal Tigress called Begum only to produce three litters of normal coloration. When that didn’t work, Mohan was then bred with one of his own daughters Radha and the ploy worked but it led to the beginning to downfall of the white tigers. Highly valued for their rare look of blue eyes, pink nose and the ethereal white coloration, White Tigers have been inbred to the point of no return causing several genetic deformities in litters and breeding depression among the tigresses producing offspring. Only after the inbred white tiger litters were visibly deformed did the practice of breeding white tigers with normal colored tigers take off to some degree of success. However, this has launched another chain of disastrous consequences where the normal coloured cubs are considered a useless collateral and killed instantly.

Mohan is regrettably credited as being the first white tiger captured in the wild ever but that doesn’t seem to be true. What’s true is that Mohan was the last wild white tiger ever to be captured; they have been hunted to extinction since. Looking into the dejected blue eyes of life size stuffing of Mohan through the glass cage, where he is forced to persist till eternity, I sensed nothing but immense sadness come over me. Stuffed tigers are almost always preserved with an aura of ferocity in their demeanour. Not Mohan. There was neither pride in his dead eyes nor ferociousness in his likeness.

In the later years of Maharaja Martand Singh, who first caught and encouraged the deplorable breeding of white tigers, he showed a surprising change of heart and diligently rallied for the establishment of Bandhavgarh National Park and protection of tigers in general. He succeeded in his efforts and even campaigned to end tiger hunts among royalty. But before you think this story has a happy ending, his son, current Maharaja Pushpraj Singh purportedly took on the mantle of wildlife conservation from his father. So what did he do with his clout and passion? He helped open a white tiger safari at Mukundpur where three white tigers in captivity are at display, costing a whopping 50 crores to establish. The saddest part of this story is that the next plan is to develop a breeding center to create more white tigers.

Mohan would be rolling in his grave at our obnoxious obsession with his kind, if only he were buried!

A blur of black whizzed past the thicket ahead of me in Sanjay National Park, a remote corner in Madhya Pradesh. If not for the rustle of the dried leaves that raked up few exciting seconds of anticipation, I would’ve definitely missed my first ever sighting of the elusive Sloth Bear in the jungles of this tiger reserve, which were so thick that a Tiger could’ve been right next to me and I wouldn’t have had any inkling whatsoever.

Sanjay National Park, only recently opened for tourists after playing host to wildlife rehabilitation for years, is now apparently home to a thriving Tiger population of over 40, spread over 831 Sq Kms shared between Sanjay National Park and Dubri Wildlife Sanctuary. But apart from tigers, these forests are brimming with a variety of wildlife that makes it an exciting place to be for the nature lover. Considering the park has been recently opened for visitors, that there is only one wildlife resort in the vicinity and there are only two safari vehicles in all, wildlife spotting in Sanjay National Park is as real as it gets without any external influences yet.

It was a cold morning with a blanket of mist hanging over the tile-roofed houses dotting the vast fields we were cutting across. At the forest gate, at a distance of 11km from Parisili Resort (Read: Where I stayed), we took a diversion to the right leading into the forest instead of going through the gate. This set the tone for how the safari would proceed over the next few hours.

From driving through the shallow River Mudari that looked more like a blanket of water flowing over fertile lands to forging our own paths through the seemingly impenetrable jungle, the wildlife viewing experience here was quite novel. Chinkaras, which normally wouldn’t move an inch at the intrusion in other popular national parks, would jump at the slightest disturbance here. Watching them observe us through the gaps between dense foliage felt way more real.

Piercing through the heart of the jungle with the overgrown foliage whipping me occasionally in the face, things suddenly took a turn for the better when I was about to give up any hope of sighting wildlife in a forest with such low visibility and where animals are not used to human presence. A big sloth bear made a noisy exit into the forest startled by the approaching vehicle. Sloth bears aren’t that graceful in showing themselves to eager visitors normally, so this felt special than a tiger sighting. Soon after, another sloth bear ambled by the shores of a watering hole making it a jackpot of sorts. The only thing that could’ve made the day better was a leopard sighting but there’s a limit to greed.

Content with the unexpected sighting in a little known jungle, I suddenly realized how commercialised the wildlife safaris have become. With tens of other vehicles ogling at the lone tiger elsewhere, a very real but quick sighting felt so much more personal and intriguing. It was like a little secret between the jungle and me; a small but privileged glimpse into its world of wonders.

On my way to Khajuraho, there was a little detour to a place called Raneh Falls that frankly sounded quite uninteresting. In a sleepy stupor from long journeys of the previous days, I ambled into the viewing enclosure to see the canyon that’s in the path of Karnavati River (or Ken River for short). It wasn’t until the guide mentioned that the pure crystalline granite canyon was over 5kms wide and was formed by volcanic action millions of years ago did I wake up to pay attention.

The igneous rocks were columnar and looked otherworldly, typical of volcanic formations. From pink to black, the granite, basalt, jasper, quartz and dolomite rocks that form the canyon wore at least five different colors making it a unique sight – according to our guide, this is the only place in the world where these five rocks are found together.

Owing to the dry spell of winters, Raneh waterfall, one of the more prominent ones of the several waterfalls that form on the canyon, wore a forlorn look but it was abundantly clear that during wet season, Raneh Falls would be roaring. In fact, the best time to see the waterfalls is during monsoons when more than a 100 hundred waterfalls dot the canyon making it a sight to behold. However, winter is the best time to see the canyon itself that bares its form after the waters recede.

While Panna National Park may not be a hidden gem exactly, it’s gorges sure are! Ken River cuts through the heart of Panna and is the lifeline of its wild inhabitants. It has forged its path through the landscape forming a deep ravines and cliff edges that are great for observing vultures, crocodiles and other wildlife apart from the usual repertoire of MP’s more famous national parks.

Panna National Park is probably one of the country's few conservation stories that recorded a surprisingly remarkable turnaround. From loosing all its tigers in 2009 to the steady success of tiger reintroductions from Kanha and Bandhavgarh, Panna has bounced back to normalcy after a period of despair. No wonder these jungles are full of revving safari vehicles apart from its wild denizens today.

While I wouldn’t even remotely imply in any way that sighting a Tiger isn’t as special as it is made out to be, I would highly recommend exploring other landscapes that support a variety of wildlife once you’ve seen a tiger. There’s so much diversity in our jungles that it is nothing but a crime that the spotlight should be shining forever on the yellow stripes!

Sitting on the steps of a small shrine housing the imposing emblem of Chandela dynasty, a feisty prince battling a fierce lion, I remember being distinctly unimpressed with what I saw. Blame it on the marketing gimmick that touts Khajuraho to be something it is not, a grand display of Kama Sutra and assorted erotica. If a destination doesn’t even live up to its stereotype, then what is it worth really? The illusion shattered furthermore when I learnt that Khajuraho is not even the only temple that contains erotic carvings in India. There are at least 15 more across the country that we know of, including well-known ones such as Sun temple of Konark, Jain temples of Ranakpur and even Virupaksha temple of Hampi.

Earlier this month, I walked into the manicured lawns of Khajuraho’s Western group of temples – a cluster of the most prominent and well preserved of the 20 remaining temples today. Chandelas who ruled over parts of central India between 10th and 13th centuries undertook the massive task of commissioning these sandstone marvels. It’s a testament to the rulers’ commitment to the cause and the virtuosity of the architects as well as sculptors that 85 of these temples were constructed in a short span of two centuries – a miracle considering each temple required countless man-hours. History Channel even attempted a telling recreation in an episode cringe-worthily named “Lost Worlds: Kama Sutra” given that Kama Sutra and Khajuraho have little to do with each other and are separated by at least six centuries.

In the warm glow of that quiet winter evening, the sandstone temples of Khajuraho gleamed like gold rising out of a field of green. Women in colorful sarees stomped down the pathways crisscrossing the lawns in the far distance. The hushed winds whipped up a surreal aura when it suddenly dawned on me that these temples have stood witness to time for one whole millennium - a thousand years! There, that was the magic I could be more invested in. The next morning, trying to make more sense of Khajuraho’s allure which still didn’t quite get to me, I enlisted the help of one Gopal ji, a government approved guide who would go on to give me a lot of food for thought over the course of the day.

Under the shade of a towering tree, Gopal ji diligently retold the history of Khajuraho and Chandelas as he was taught. One thing stood out from his spiel, was that Chandelas were great patrons of Jainism too. No wonder then, Eastern Group of temples were home to three Jain temples built in the similar architectural style as the Hindu temples of Khajuraho and didn’t seem to have any eroticism but were peppered with Jain iconography.

“Because of the growing popularity of Buddhism, which they wanted to suppress, the Chandelas could’ve given patronage to Jains, who then thrived in Khajuraho during Chandela rule”, he mentioned in passing. Romila Thapar, a noted historian also surmises that one of the reasons there was a profusion of erotic art in the early centuries of this millennium was to counteract the tenets of Buddhism that propounded celibacy and rejection of all earthly desires. Edifying eroticism in temples and literature could’ve been a strategic move to retain the Hindu masses that wandered to the fringes of Buddhism’s austere spirituality.

While it was clear that Khajuraho’s temples were so much more than erotic sculptures, it was only when my guide diligently pointed out the intricacies of the carvings did I start taking note of the supreme craftsmanship at display here. The sculptures were evocative, expressive and very realistic, no small feat considering they were carved in stone. As we moved from Lakshmana temple to Kandariya Mahadev temple, it was noticeable that the sculptors refined their skill over the years and the sculptures became more evocative and slender too. However I couldn’t shake off the questions stirring in my mind. Why did the Chandelas build 85 of these temples in this remote corner? Was it their way of leaving a lasting legacy? While I was lost in these thoughts, our guide commiserated how the stereotype obscures the architectural splendor of these great constructions.

Invariably someone exclaimed, “What happened to us?” looking at the mithunas (erotic sculptures) of Lakshmana Temple. What happened is that a thousand years passed, during which Islamic and Victorian influences altered our culture. But that’s not really the point. Even though Khajuraho temples are of Hindu origin, it is pertinent to note that Chandelas were believed to be practitioners of Tantra cult, which was always esoteric in nature and by no means represented the more traditional and conservative form of Hinduism followed across the sub continent. So, no, India didn’t suddenly regress from being a country full of sexual liberals to repressed bigots.

Sexual liberation was prominent in Tantric culture but never an eminent part of India’s culture. If it were, we’d be having many more lascivious artworks littered on our temple friezes. Instead we now have fewer temples featuring erotic sculptures than a person can count on his fingers and toes together. Modern day debauchery in the name of Tantra has brought the once prevalent cult a lot of bad name (it is now exclusively associated with hedonistic sex and sensual massages) but in the time of Chandelas and before, Tantric worship was a profoundly spiritual pursuit which propounded sexual ritualism (which could be a deep metaphor for all we know) as a means towards spiritual enlightenment. I’m inclined to consider this theory given the oldest temple currently standing in Khajuraho is of Chausath(64) Yogini signifying yogini worship that is an integral part of Tantric cult was prevalent here.

It annoys me that something so mystical has been reduced to something so outwardly carnal – or something equally vague and untenable as the theory that the erotic sculptures were meant for educational purposes. That logic could be rational, but the lack of possible motive in advocating bestiality and orgies belies it. It probably is just easier for the local guides who have admirably learned to explain the erotic sculptures as “loving couple” without even wincing than to delve into the specifics of the Tantric connection and its multiple allegories.

The duality of unabashed aggrandizement of sensuality that clashes with the recurring motif of scorpion on the thigh that supposedly represents “poisonous lust” is where I would say, lies the true allure of Khajuraho. Even the origin of the name Khajuraho is not definite. Two date palm trees mentioned in scriptures but not seen physically could either have inspired it or the scorpion that isn’t mentioned anywhere but the motif is observed – unsurprisingly both translate to “Kharjur” in Sanskrit! Double entendres abound in these temples and I’m not entirely sure that the message, whatever the sculptures are meant to convey, is supposed to be taken at their face value.

We have no idea what the intention was. We have little understanding of the iconography here and as a result we have let the world brazenly brand Khajuraho as India’s temples of sex and the one shining example of conservative India’s lost liberalism. Not that there is anything wrong with it, it’s just that without any real knowledge, the sobriquet is as misguided as a shot in the dark that only panders to the western stereotype of eastern exoticism, eschewing a holistic view and offering little insight of any real value.

Now that I’ve pontificated enough, it bears to mention that less than 10% of Khajuraho’s carvings are erotic in nature. Standing under the shadow of an enormous tree as Gopal ji went on with his well memorized discourse, I remember my thoughts drifting to future when someone would discover a scripture or some buried treasure that would finally reveal the secrets of Khajuraho to us. And what a momentous unraveling that would be! I can only wish ASI and our historians would invest more thought and work into these glorious temples that are undoubtedly a time capsule from an intriguing epoch we know little about.

The allure of Khajuraho, I now realize, lies in its timeless tenacity and the untold stories it is holding within.

Note: This post is published as part of the #ChaloMPwithHolidayIQ campaign and I was hosted by HolidayIQ in Madhya Pradesh, in collaboration with MP Tourism.