Kanha Tiger Reserve

 

Kanha: In the Realm of Sal Forests and Silent Footsteps

After our visit to the Ghughwa Fossil Park, we reached Mocha Resort by 2 p.m on November 15, 2025., welcomed by the stillness of the forest and the rich aroma of a hot lunch. By 3 p.m., we were already on our way to our first safari—eager, bundled in warm jackets, and watching the forest road wind ahead like a pale ribbon through green wilderness.

The Vast Expanse of Kanha

Kanha Sanctuary, spread over more than 2,136 sq km, is significantly larger than Bandhavgarh. About 900 sq km of this is the inviolate core area, while the rest forms the buffer zone. Only around 20% of the core is open to tourists—just enough to sense the forest’s pulse without disturbing its rhythm.

The park is divided into four zones, and our jeep rolled toward the Kanha Range after passing through the Kisali zone—a dense stretch dominated by Sal trees, where we spotted herds of spotted deer and the stately barasingha. Kanha is home to eight tigers in this stretch alone, each defending a territory of roughly 25 sq km. Knowing this, our anticipation sharpened as we entered the heart of the forest.

A Forest Woven With Trees, Myths and Rivers

Kanha is a symphony of trees—Sal forming the deep green canopy, and Bamboo, Saja, Palash, Jamun, Kullu (the ghost tree), Mahua, Gular and , etc, adding colour and texture. What makes Kanha visually special is the sudden opening of dense forest into meadows, veined by silver streams. The forest roads, made of white sand shimmering with mica, inspired the very name “Kanha”—derived from Kalhari, the shining sand.

The Banjar River flows gently through the landscape. Its banks are less fertile, making the land ideal for forests and wildlife. No wonder the region became the cradle of India’s tiger conservation success.

The Deer, the Calls, and the Legends

Kanha teems with spotted deer—so many that locals jokingly call them “the goats of the jungle.” Along with them thrive the sambhar, barasingha, and the elusive barking deer. We didn’t see the barking deer, but the massive sambhar played a crucial role—its alarm calls acted like forest telegrams warning of a tiger’s movement.

The barasingha, with its velvety brown coat, appeared like a living echo of mythology—reminding me of Sita’s fascination for the golden deer in the Ramayana. Kanha also holds a place in another legend: the Shravan Taal. It was here, tradition says, that King Dashrath accidentally killed Shravan Kumar, inviting the curse that would eventually shape the destiny of Ayodhya.

That Magical Moment in Kanha

After lunch, we left for the safari at exactly three in the afternoon and headed toward the Kanha Range. Our jeep was third in line. Renuka arrived, saw us, and quickly went to sit in another jeep—but finding no space there, she had to return and join us again. Before we count who were missed she told the driver to move., and our jeep started moving to join other two.

But we hadn’t gone far when Deepak called out, “The Baldi couple has been left behind!”

The jeep halted immediately. We turned back, picked up Shrikant and Uma, and once again proceeded toward the forest. This delayed us slightly and separated us from the rest of the group, though the road ahead was the same for all. Our driver, Rahmat Khan, and guide, Samim Khan, reassured us, “Today the chances of seeing a tiger look good. Stay positive.”

We remembered the beautiful scene of a juvenile tiger we had once seen in Bandhavgarh during an afternoon safari. We also knew that spotting a tiger is always a matter of pure chance—one must be at the right place at the exact right moment when it decides to cross the road. So our expectations were modest, but our excitement was alive.

Nearly an hour passed. It was around 4:30 p.m. when our guide suddenly noticed the alert posture of some deer ahead—their ears were raised. At the same moment, a barasingha began giving loud alarm calls. The direction of the deers’ ears and the barasingha’s call told us clearly: a tiger was close.

We assumed that if it were a cub, or if it heard the jeeps, it might not emerge. But destiny had planned something else for us that day. It was Sunaina—a regal tigress, fearless and graceful.

Our guide instantly figured out the path she would take. He drove the jeep to the exact spot and switched off the engine. Two jeeps ahead of us did the same, and a bus stopped behind us. The forest seemed to be holding its breath.

And then—

Sunaina appeared, parting the tall grass.

Her eyes fell on our jeep first. In the front stood Uma and Laxmi, watching her intently. For a brief moment, her gaze met theirs—as if she acknowledged their presence. Then, with a slight rightward shift, she began walking forward with a mesmerizing, queen-like stride.

The setting sun in the west cast golden rays on her body, making her stripes shimmer and enhancing her beauty even more.

She walked eastward.

We watched her from the north and our another group watched her from the south.

Three sides of the forest held humans in silent awe—while the tigress walked the fourth, owning the space effortlessly.

Renuka, sitting right in front, was so stunned that she filmed the entire moment—only to later realize she had forgotten to press the record button! Uma was simply absorbing the tigress’s beauty. And Shrikant, recording both Sunaina and the “Uma”—kept whispering “very beautiful very beautiful… thank you… thank you!” in excitement.

I stood behind them, capturing the full scene on my phone, trying to hold onto every second of this extraordinary moment. Laxmi, too, watched silently, clicking photos and videos.

Those sixty seconds of Sunaina’s slow, graceful walk became a lifelong treasure for all of us.

In truth, everything that happened that day felt like a chain of perfect coincidences—

Renuka joining our jeep unwillingly…

The Baldi couple being left behind…

Our group getting separated…

Our slight delay…

And Sunaina choosing that exact moment to step out…

All these moments blended together to make our visit to Kanha truly unforgettable.

Our third group, with Upendra in it, paused for a brief moment of rest—and in that small pause, they lost an experience beyond compare. The sight lasted barely a minute, yet its worth surpassed that of the entire journey.

Kanha’s Jewel: The Morning Safari

“कान्हा की सुबह की हवा एक लाख रूपए की दवा”—

The morning breeze of Kanha is worth a lakh rupees of medicine.

We understood the truth of this local saying the next day.

Our morning safari began at 6 a.m. The cold pierced through the blankets provided in the jeep, yet the freshness of the air felt invigorating. The forest was still, the silence almost sacred. No alarm calls echoed, perhaps because Bajrang, Mahavir, and Sunaina—the famous tigers of this range—were resting somewhere deep in the winter woods.

We saw deer grazing peacefully, sambhars blending into the shadow of trees, and barasinghas lifting their antlers with quiet pride. A mother langur sat warming herself in the morning sun, cradling her baby—a tender moment that ended as soon as we stopped for a photograph and they bounded away.

After roaming through the forest for two hours, we took a short break. We freshened up a little, clicked some pictures at the photo point, and opened our packed snacks. But the taste of the freshly served hot aloo bondas, samosas, and tea was incomparable. Our packed food was on one side, and this delicious treat on the other—the flavor was truly irresistible.

Since we still had some time, we watched a short film and exhibition about Kanha National Park. It reminded us how difficult it is to keep this forest and its wildlife safe—and to remain safe within it. Yet this world of nature continues to keep us happy and enthralled.

With no tiger in sight, a bright blue kingfisher perched near a stream seemed determined to offer consolation. And truly, Kanha itself—its air, its still water, its gentle rustle—was worth far more than a mere sighting.

The Banjar River: A Spark of Joy

Back at the resort, Dhanpat, Upendra, and Anil headed straight for a bath in the Banjar River behind our cottages. Lakshmi and I soon joined. The water was cold, clear enough to see the sandy riverbed, and refreshing enough to lift our spirits instantly. Such simple river baths carry a unique joy that no luxury spa can match.

An Evening in Kisli

Our final safari took us through the Kisli Range. Everyone hoped for one last glimpse of a tiger, but the forest had decided otherwise. Instead, we witnessed a magnificent herd of Indian bison—several females and two imposing males—followed by deer, sambhar, and barasingha grazing unbothered.

A troop of langurs entertained us with their acrobatics, leaping from branch to branch. One group, however, displayed comic disinterest—turning their backs toward us the moment we stopped, as if unimpressed by human curiosity.

Two Evenings in Kanha

Both evenings in Kanha passed pleasantly in the warmth of the bonfire, though they did not have the same liveliness we enjoyed in Bandhavgarh. Archana sang a song one evening and remained quiet the next. Dhanpat had been unwell for a day in Bandhavgarh, but here he bloomed again. Without his Haryanvi jokes, a few moments would certainly have slipped into boredom. Listening to his stories—from Hiralal to Devilal—never tired the mind. And when he had Upendra and Shrikant for company, every evening naturally became light and cheerful.

Kanha: More Than a Tiger Reserve

Kanha is not just a forest; it is a living storybook—of trees that breathe life into the land, animals that follow ancient rhythms, rivers that whisper secrets, and legends that echo across centuries.

We came hoping to see tigers.

We returned with something far richer—a deep sense of calm, wonder, and gratitude for the wild heart of India.

Our stay of two nights at “Baghira” of MP Tourism in Mocha–Kanha was comfortable. The food and the hospitality of the staff were outstanding.

Kanha: 15-16 November 2025