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The Lockdown Tiger !!




The Lockdown Tiger - Moonga Sher


The year 2020 was a time of immense hardship for the world, marked by grief, loss, and an overwhelming sense of uncertainty. My heartfelt condolences go out to those who lost loved ones during the pandemic. People were confined to their homes, fearful of the invisible threat posed by their fellow humans—friends, relatives, and even neighbors could unknowingly carry danger.


At that time, my family and a handful of staff were staying at our Baaz Jungle Resort in Pench. The resort industry, like many others, had come to a standstill. With no guests to serve, it was critical to find a way to stay occupied. While my software business kept me busy, my family focused on taking care of the resort’s grounds and maintenance.


Before I tell you about my encounter with the Lockdown Tiger, let me set the scene for you.


Baaz Jungle Resort, founded in 2005, spans over 13.5 acres and is a haven for wildlife. With its abundant native vegetation and natural environment, it attracts an array of birds and animals. The resort itself is centrally located within the property, leaving large open areas for wildlife to roam. To the east is an open expanse of land, while the west is home to a lemon orchard with around 400 trees, beyond which lie farmlands. After the farms, the buffer zone of the Turiya Core forest begins. A small water body borders the south, with Kohka Lake and the village of Kohka about a kilometer away. A man-made irrigation canal, originating from Kohka Lake, divides the property, giving rise to a fascinating structure to the north—where a jungle stream flows through large cement pipes under the canal. Known locally as “Moonga,” this cool, shaded spot would play a vital role in the story of the Lockdown Tiger—Moonga Sher.


To the north of Baaz lies buffer forest, followed by farmlands stretching towards Awarghani village. The lockdown had all but halted human activity, allowing wildlife to roam freely in the quiet surroundings. We would often hear the rustling of animals in the dry leaves or the alarm calls of chital and sambar, signaling the presence of a predator—perhaps a tiger or a leopard.


It was during this period that a sub-adult male tiger began frequenting the area. Known for preying on cattle, he had become a problem for nearby villages, particularly around Khawasa. The forest department had collared him and driven him back into the Turiya Core forest, but his penchant for easy prey—livestock—kept drawing him back. A powerful, majestic male, with a head nearly two feet wide, he was both magnificent and dangerous.


The forest department monitored his movements closely, hoping to prevent human-animal conflict. Despite their efforts to push him back into the forest where natural prey was abundant, this tiger, later nicknamed Moonga Sher, was reluctant to give up his habit of cattle killing. By late April, he had wandered close to Kohka Lake and eventually settled in the lush greenery behind Baaz. The forest department warned us to exercise caution, especially when venturing towards the lemon orchard or open areas around the property.


It wasn’t long before Moonga Sher discovered the cool, shaded area beneath the “Moonga” pipes. He quickly grew fond of it, often spending his days there after his nightly wanderings. Concerned that the tiger had made the area his permanent home, the forest department brought in a team of elephants to relocate him. With the help of the mighty Jung Bahadur, they succeeded in driving him out of the pipes and sealed them off, hoping he would return to the core forest. But Moonga Sher wasn’t ready to leave just yet.


June 4th was a hot day, and as dusk approached, we heard the plaintive cries of a lost calf. The sound faded as night fell but returned the next morning, echoing from somewhere near the northern side of the property. My wife, Rajlakshmi, and the staff were eager to locate it, but fear of the tiger kept us from venturing too far.


On June 5th, another scorching day, Rajlakshmi insisted we go in search of the calf. Reluctantly, I agreed, and with four staff members, we headed toward the northern boundary of the property. As we neared the jungle gate, we passed a large tree casting a cool, inviting shadow. Little did we know that beneath that very tree, the Lockdown Tiger lay hidden, silently watching us.


As I stepped into the shade, I heard a low, menacing growl. Turning, I saw him—just nine feet away. His massive head, with fiery eyes fixed on me, was poised in indecision. I instinctively backed away, shouting for my team to stay calm and not to run. Slowly, as the distance grew between us, the tiger rose, turned, and retreated into a bamboo thicket some 200 meters away.


In that moment, I felt a deep sense of gratitude. The tiger had spared us, choosing to quietly move on rather than attack. His silent message was clear: “This is my territory, and I will let you leave peacefully.”


Back at the resort, as we gathered our composure, the forest department called to inform us that the tiger was still nearby. They requested permission to enter the property to monitor him, and we accompanied them in their vehicle. Though we knew exactly where he was, Moonga Sher had once again vanished into the shadows, his camouflage perfect against the backdrop of the jungle. Only a trained forest guard, using binoculars, was able to spot his ear, barely visible amidst the dense foliage. The tiger lay flat, barely 30 feet away, yet unseen by the untrained eye—a true master of stealth and ambush.


Days later, we received word that Moonga Sher had moved on to an area near Awarghani village, a more populated region with open fields. To avoid potential conflict, the forest department eventually made the difficult decision to tranquilize him and transport him to the animal care center in Bhopal.


Reflecting on the experience, I am reminded of an old jungle saying: "Even if you haven’t seen the tiger during your safari, rest assured, he has seen you."


Reflection: A Lesson from the Jungle


This experience left a profound impact on me. Moonga Sher’s presence during the lockdown reminded me of the delicate balance between humans and wildlife. As the old jungle saying goes: “Even if you haven’t seen the tiger on your safari, rest assured, he has seen you.”


Nature has its own way of communicating, and this majestic tiger gave us a silent, yet powerful message: Animals are beautiful people.


Conclusion: The story of Moonga Sher, the lockdown tiger, will forever be etched in my memory. It’s a reminder that, even in times of global turmoil, the wild carries on—unfazed, resilient, and full of untold stories.


Mahendra Godbole 08th Oct 24

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