As the sun began to set on my adventures in India, I took the time to reflect on what I have seen. It was certainly a time of personal growth and wonder. However, I couldn’t help but think about whether or not the places I had visited or the tigers I had seen were going to remain for much longer. In particular, I thought a lot about a dream I had when I was first starting to pursue tiger conservation. It occurred a few years ago, and this dream has haunted me ever since (among others, but that’s another set of writings).
The dream began with me stepping out of a car in the parking lot of a large white building. What struck me first was that I was an older gentleman, perhaps in my 50s or 60s; my hair was gray and despite the nice looking brown jacket I was wearing, I had let myself go a little bit. It must have been a busy day at this white building because I had to park quite far away. After making my way into the building, I immediately knew what it was: it was a museum.
This museum was quite beautiful, with plenty of natural light shining in from its many windows. It had plenty of open space and had what looked like a column of floors extending several storeys and allowing visitors to overlook the museum via a central balcony. It was comfortably designed, clean, sharp and ultra-modern. As I toured the museum, I happened across something which would render unto me sadness unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
I came across a video screen with an interactive display...and a dead, stuffed tiger. The films that were being featured depicted older footage of tigers in the wild. They also showed footage of death and destruction: tigers were being shot, cut open, and their forests were being destroyed. Each of the clips that played had the same message at the end in haunting red text: the wild tiger was extinct. Other species seemed to be on the way out too and the display acted as a warning.
I lingered around the display for some time and watched as groups of schoolchildren walked by with casual interest. I remember holding back tears as I watched this new generation, now growing up in a world without the tiger.
I had failed. I was now a pathetic old man: alone, defeated, and bereft of purpose... I had experienced an overwhelming sense of emptiness and was living a life that no longer had meaning. I was left limping through the remaining days of my life, a ruined relic of a lost cause.
It was a dream that depicted a possible future and for has stuck with me. Occasionally my mind will wander and those terrible feelings come creeping back. I’ve wondered if that is to be my fate. The longest time, it was the only glimpse of a possible future I’ve ever had...that is, until I journeyed into the realm of the tiger.
My quest through the forests of India, seeing tigers and taking in the sights and smells, was an incredible experience I will remember for the rest of my life. By the end, I didn’t want to leave. However, before I left, I had another dream...a new dream.
This dream was far different. I wasn’t walking across fields of concrete or in the echoing halls of manmade structures, nor was I alone. I was fit and happy. I was in the forest, surrounded by those sights and smells I had fallen in love with. I was a watchful guardian. As a setting sun coloured the forests aflame and cast shadows among the trees, I walked towards a humble house to retire for the evening. I paused before entering upon hearing a wonderful sound: it was the sound of a tiger’s roars somewhere in forest, staking claim to its kingdom.
I had succeeded. The tiger retained its place in this world. I would spend the rest of my days with those I love, watching over the tiger’s kingdom...an eternal, emerald jewel that would serve as a living testament to those who dedicated their lives to protecting the most incredible of our natural heritage.
I no longer dwell on the painful prospects of that first dream. Rather, I have departed India with a new dream...one I will fight to achieve.
This is the beginning...
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