A huge Makhna emerges from the elephant grass on to the road. My driver, Nadeem, immediately stops the vehicle and turns off the engine. Before Zakhir Hussain, the guide, can raise his hand to warn me to be still, I have frozen. I was in the process of unwrapping my camera from its dust jacket, when my eyes caught the wet marks on his temple. He was in musth. He was dangerous. He had stopped in the middle of the road less than 45 feet from me.
He wavers for exactly three seconds before he makes up his mind. He starts to walk towards us. As the Makhna comes closer, Zakhir looks at Nadeem with sheer disbelief in his eyes. I keep my mouth shut. Nadeem starts the engine, and reverses the vehicle.
The Makhna picks up speed – first a pace, then two, and then more. The road is narrow and winding, with elephant grass on one side, and a mud bank on the other. The way Nadeem avoids the mud bank tells me he is scared of us getting stuck. Zakhir half-stands in the front seat, looking for any movement in the tall elephant grass, he is afraid we will run into more elephants. I cannot get my eyes off the Makhna closing in on me. At that moment, no one can say for sure how this will turn out.
After setting us back by about a hundred metres, the Makhna suddenly stops. Nadeem slows the vehicle to a halt some distance away, but doesn’t turn off the ignition. The Makhna stops and looks at us for two seconds. Then in a flash he takes three quick steps towards us, trumpeting and shaking his head wildly. All three of us jump out of our skin. Certain the chase has resumed, Nadeem turns back to begin reversing. Just before the vehicle moves, Zakhir’s hands find Nadeem’s on the steering wheel and he taps his fingers — a stop sign. Nadeem turns to see the Makhna has stopped. My eyes are glued on the Makhna, while I register Zakhir and Nadeem from the corner of my eye.
The Makhna gives up on us and leaves the road, headed in the direction he originally wanted to take — towards the stream. Given a choice between three dusty humans and water — he has chosen the latter.
It was the April of 2010, in the Jim Corbett National Park. During the ten March days I had spent in Bandhavgarh Tiger Reserve, I felt the summer sun shine hotter than expected for that time of the year. Summer is going to be early this year, I thought to myself.
Summer is a good time to observe and photograph elephant herds in Corbett. During summer, elephants move into Corbett from Rajaji National Park and other neighbouring elephant corridors. By mid-May, one can usually see a number of large elephant herds. With so much choice around and the north Indian summer sun evaporating all other thoughts, its difficult for the males not to think of sex. So naturally summer also happens to be their mating season. Desperate makhnas are more hot-headed than tuskers but often lose a bout against an equal-sized tusker and are chased away.
