DD#2 - My Golden Lighthouse: A Wildlife Journey Back to Where It All Began
This is repost from my series: Dudhwa Diaries originally published at Medium.
For Me, It Was My Golden Lighthouse!
Welcome Back!
This is the second part of Dudhwa Diaries and we are back on the trail where we left, except this is new day, new dawn, new life and I’m feeling good! (If you catch that reference, you have good music taste) And if you are new and clicked based on title, I’ll suggest head to this first:
It’s the sorta origin story of whole thing and if you are wild and free and rules doesn’t bind you and if you are rebel against continuity and keep on reading, who am I to stop such unstoppable force!
Today was one of those days that felt like a private pass into the secret world of the wild, a Narnia you stumble into where the only rule is that there are no rules. Right out of the gate, we were greeted by a gang of monkeys (another recurring guest of our journey)— troops to be exact, which makes them sound much more organised than they are.
These monkeys seemed less interested in our presence and more intrigued by whether we’d brought snacks, eyeing us with that mix of curiosity and indifference only they can pull off. They might’ve been fooling around, but I couldn’t shake this feeling that I was the one being studied, not the other way around.
Now it was time to wake ourselves up so jaunty stroll top of the machan is always a good option. Just when I was thinking it might be all leaves and no birds, a flash of yellow zipped through the trees?—?the golden oriole. This wasn’t just any bird for me; it was a piece of my own history.
I was ten years old, signed up for a wildlife camp mostly for the thrill of it, not realising how much it would change me. Even as a kid, I loved animals and documentaries, but that early morning sighting of the golden oriole was different. It wasn’t just seeing a bird; it was witnessing something vibrant and alive, right in front of me, in a way I’d never experienced before for the first time. That flash of yellow kicked off a chain reaction that, looking back, is probably what set me on this very path. (In some alternate reality, maybe I’m solving quantum mechanics instead.)
We spend so much of our lives wandering, sometimes purposefully, other times blindly. But there are these moments, these encounters, that almost reach out, saying, “You’ve been here before; remember why you’re here.” It’s humbling, really, how something as fleeting as a bird can act as a lighthouse, a point of reference in life’s map that reminds us of the path we set out on. For me it was my golden lighthouse.
As a child, I didn’t really understand the effect that single yellow flash would have on my life. It was just a moment, an experience I soaked in without questioning. Yet here I am, years later, standing in a forest, and feeling that pull again. The oriole, in a way, is still guiding me forward on this path that feels both old and new.
The real adventure began when we decided to walk close to the rhino enclosure. Now, “close” sounds manageable until you realize it means you’re close enough to spot the faint imprint of fresh tiger pugmarks nearby. Some were faded, but as we walked, we found very fresh ones. It was like tracking the ghost of a tiger, knowing that somewhere nearby, a big cat might be watching us even as we trailed behind its footsteps.
While wandering deeper into the jungle, I almost walked straight into a giant wood spider’s web?—?a perfectly engineered network of silk strands that looked like it could rival anything out of Marvel’s universe. Of course, curiosity got the best of us, so we decided to test a strand. It turns out the spider-silk-being-stronger-than-steel thing is not an exaggeration.
As we pulled gently, feeling the surprising resilience of each strand. This is like millennia of evolution to craft material science can’t fully replicate yet. We’re talking about silk so strong it could inspire a comic book hero and just might be the future of bio-engineered materials.
Here’s comes the favourite part of my story which I think I should title “Mansab’s Animal Poop Saga: Researcher’s Ramblings” (Okay, we might need to rework on that). We collected poop samples, you wouldn’t think it but gathering that is like detective work, insider view on animal’s life. In a way, it’s the most direct (if not glamorous) connection to the unseen lives of animals.
Next, we went inside the rhino enclosure, hoping for a glimpse of these ‘unicorns’ of the jungle. We didn’t spot any rhinos (yet), but we did encounter darters, birds with sleek, almost serpent-like necks. One darted through the water so quickly it seemed more like a fish than a bird. Right on cue, we came across a mugger crocodile, not once but twice, casually sunbathing in its prehistoric glory.
I’ve learned that expecting the unexpected isn’t just a catchphrase here; it’s a necessity.
On our way back, the forest treated us to views of spotted deer grazing calmly in the evening light, as if to say, “Thanks for stopping by.” The final sights of the day were truly magical?—?a Great Hornbill in all its glory and a tiny colony of fairy inkcap mushrooms, so delicate they looked like forest sprites gathered for a midnight meeting.
By the end of the day, I felt more like a visitor to a hidden kingdom than just a researcher or wildlife enthusiast. Each moment, each sighting, was like a chapter unfolding, and in some strange way, the forest had become the storyteller.
And to that golden lighthouse which brought me here, Thank you!
So, stay tuned for the next episode of Dudhwa Diaries, because in this wild narrative, you never know what adventure tomorrow might bring!