The night enveloped me in profound darkness as I groped for my phone to silence the alarm. Anticipation coursed through me for the day ahead. I found myself in Ranthambore National Park, poised for an early morning game drive in just an hour. My heart raced with excitement once again. "Seeing wildlife is unpredictable," I reasoned with myself. There are no assurances, despite my extensive experience of 16 years of visiting various national parks of India, which is part to my professional life.

Every time I step into these parks, I'm struck by the realization that they belong to the animal kingdom; we humans are mere visitors. Their laws govern these lands and its inhabitants; it's their world, not ours.

This time, Crossing into Zone 2, I felt the same sensation—a world of dense forests and watchful eyes, interrupted only by distant calls of chital and monkeys. It was a reminder that the rulers of this domain, the Royal Bengal Tigers, were on the prowl.

An hour deeper into the park, we strained to hear any hint of these majestic creatures. We searched tirelessly, our senses heightened, eyes darting in every direction.

Then suddenly, a rustle in the thicket nearby revealed one of Earth's most magnificent creatures. Known as Ennead or T120, he strolled past our jeep, appearing disinterested, occasionally yawning. After a brief leisurely walk, he glanced at us with seeming indifference before returning to his refuge in the thickets. We were left awestruck.

The rest of the morning and afternoon game drives were consumed by our desperate quest for another glimpse of the elusive Bengal Tigers. Along the way, we encountered families of Gray Langurs, native Indian species, lounging amidst herds of spotted deer or chital. We also spotted the solitary Nilgai, Asia’s largest antelope deeply embedded in Indian culture since ancient times, and the camouflaged Sambar Deer. Among them, packs of wild jackals and colorful birds strutted about.

Intermittently, we stumbled upon crumbling Rajput palaces and temples, reminders of a time when these forests and lakes served as royal hunting grounds.

Encountering one of the park's prized residents so early and so closely had been an extraordinary stroke of luck. Hoping for a second sighting, I traversed Ranthambore's ravines and meadows for the remainder of the day, driven by a sense of greed. But my efforts were fruitless.

As dusk approached and the gates prepared to close, all I found was a teasing pugmark on the dirt road. It seemed to taunt, "I was here just now. Find me if you can next time. I choose when and who sees me, not you."

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