What is it that draws us back to the jungles and forests across the world? This is a question that has been ringing for a while, and the echoes of it have only gotten louder each time. Disclaimer — there’s no correct answer, but every answer is also correct.

On a recent safari, while we waited for action to happen, I came across a word that has been part of my vocabulary for years — sonder.

Sonder. The realisation that every living creature around you is living a life just as layered as yours. Full of urgency. Full of intention. A life that carries on whether you’re watching or not.

I’ve wondered what brings me back — the sights, the sounds, the air, the peace, the passion to be closer to nature, the conversations with fellow wildlife lovers. Or is it just to observe another creation go about their life?

That’s why we go. To spend time in their world, to experience wildlife while they go on about their lives. And their lives are all about survival — making sure their lineage continues. They are driven by emotion. And that, as a photographer, is what becomes key. Understanding behaviour. Reading that emotion or that moment.

An image that tells a story — whatever it may be. A kill. A mating ritual. A bird about to take off. A familial bond. Young ones learning how to survive.

Here are a few experiences that come to mind:

On a February morning in Dhikala, the forest gave us exactly that. We’d been tracking Paarwali’s daughter through a chain of langur alarm calls and conversations with other drivers. But it seemed like luck wasn’t on our side — she had crossed the Ramganga and vanished into the grasslands on the far bank. Most would have moved on. We waited. And then our guide, Ravi bhai, with the composure and quiet certainty that comes from years of oneness with the jungle, said — "टाइगर आया हैं, रेडी रहना" (The tiger is here, stay ready). And as fate would have it, she reappeared from the far side of the grasslands, crossed the river again, and stepped onto our road. But she wasn’t just passing through. She was on a mission — marking her territory, exhibiting the Flehmen response, completely absorbed in her own world. For over five minutes, we watched her work the road, sniffing, claiming, asserting. And then, just as quietly as she’d arrived, she disappeared into the bushes.

Understanding Behavior

You don’t simply visit Dhikala. Something shifts the moment you pass through the iconic Dhangarhi gate with its weathered map of the entire zone laid out before you. From there, the Sal canopies close in overhead, the high banks rise beside you, and the old rest houses appear one after another like chapters in a story you’ve heard but never believed. If you’ve read Jim Corbett, this is where his words come alive. The forests he wrote about so captivatingly aren’t pages anymore. They’re standing right in front of you. Goosebumps.

The soft morning winter light cuts through ancient Sal canopies while rustling leaves, Himalayan woodpeckers, and the sudden alarm call of a barking deer break the silence. It sounds simple, but it stops you in your tracks. I think it’s fair to also say you experience the wildlife there. Sambar deer crossing the rivers in no rush, tigers patrolling the banks of the Ramganga, and the helter skelter of a junglefowl as a jeep gets closer. Every encounter leaves you a little more still than the last.

Every photographer carries a frame in their head that they haven’t captured yet. For me, it was winding roads graced by the feline. On a recent trip, I was able to frame that dream. I positioned myself ahead of the jeep traffic, found a spot where the light broke through the canopy, and waited. Camera settings already dialed in. Nothing left to do but watch the road. Then the tiger stepped out. You only get a few seconds in moments like these. Your thumbs make micro adjustments on the dials while the rest of you stays still. The eye contact came first. Then the frame.

Don’t chase the frame. Read the light, find your position, get your settings right, and let the environment build it for you. The story worthy frame comes when you stop forcing it.

Stories from the Field

Understanding Behavior

Shooting with Intent

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