Every few years, some company starts a [selfish] ad campaign to save the tiger, and everyone follows along. The latest is Aircel, who is busy counting down to the last tiger as if it were New Year’s night. There are some 1400 odd tigers alive they say, and the numbers are rapidly decreasing.

I have a problem with this.

Let me start by saying I’m not against tigers. I think they should be protected, and allowed to regenerate their population. I’m not against killing anything—except bloodsucking mosquitos and maybe our three dogs—so tigers are safe. In fact, I’ve always wanted a Tiger as a pet cat; where even an extremely large house cat would do. But, I have a problem with this largely fake sympathy toward Tigers.

Tigers and other carnivores are ecologically redundant. Their purpose in nature was to make sure the herbivores don’t eat up all of the grass, thereby leaving the earth barren; ending life. Now, humans are very well capable of doing that job—trigger happy Salman is just waiting to shoot down some black buck—so where does the Tiger fit in? The Tiger is only for the saving. The vanishing of the glamorous cat puts us all in extreme guilt for our better lives, so we want to do something about it. Nature doesn’t give a shit about Tigers. Nature doesn’t need tigers. Existence is not depending on whether or not tigers roam this planet. What are we saving them for. Our children? Aside from knowing that there are tigers in the wild, when was the last time you ever saw one? I’m not counting zoos here. And if you did make a Safari trip, how do you feel about yourself, disturbing their lives with your fucking cameras and littering?

What a magnificent beast, right?

Say something against Tigers, and it won’t be a second before someone yells out, “what a fucking self-important self-riteous selfish ass-tard”. Which is what I am. All individuals are selfish. It starts at the individual level, them family, local society, country, and finally, the species. With animals on the other hand it’s much simpler. In many cases it’s a direct jump from individual to species. Sometimes not even species. My point is we’re all selfish, so it’s not wrong to think of our species first.

Let me get the trivial stuff out of the way. We have no reason to kill tigers. Poaching is just plain wrong, and people who own tiger skin should be hanged at the local beat show. But that’s not why Tigers are disappearing—rather, they’re not proliferating. It’s because of drying watering holes, lack of prey, receding forest cover, and things like that which lead to the Tiger crossing paths with a human. Should we do something about it? What can we do about it? Not much. No matter how many speeches and documentaries we watch, we continue to use motor vehicles, we continue to eat chicken and beef, we continue to live in concrete houses, and continue to breed. As long as there’s development, there will be a climb. The climb may show a steady decline in increase, but it’s increasing nonetheless. Selfish species for sure, but evolution taught us that. It’s nature’s mistake really. It made man so powerful and smart, that he has taken over the planet. I’d like to blame this God fellow, but I’ll leave him alone for a change. But then, the age old philosophical question is asked again, “what are we here for?”. We don’t know. Intelligence, collective consciousness, and documented history could be far greater evolutionary achievements on nature’s part, than something as minor as a four legged carnivore.

So what do we do then? Just stand by and watch? No way. Do something. My parents are one of India’s greatest environmentalists (please don’t tell them I said that), and have played a crucial role in saving Goa from destruction. Truth. My brother is one of the most knowledgeable natural scientists I know, and has been educating people about the harmlessness of snakes for several years now (don’t tell that asswipe I said this either). I have reared the most awesome cat in the world. He’s been bred to be soft, sissy, good looking, and a good internet marketeer apparently. Do something for sure, something selfless that will prolong the life of this planet as we know it.

The problem with this “Save the Tiger” bullshit, is that it makes you feel like you’re doing something by not doing anything. As long as you don’t kill any tigers, and maybe have your kid draw some shitty paintings of happy tigers, you’ve done your job. It’s as fake as using a fleshlight to jerk yourself off. The real problems are swept under the rug, because (a), they’re not glamorous enough to sell a story to the public, and (b), it requires major effort and lifestyle changes on part of the public. The Ganges has turned into one filthy flow of sewage, the mountains are being hacked by people who can afford to pay bribes; we’re not worried about frogs killed for their legs, or indigenous primitive trees being hacked to make way for teak and other desirable wood, or that forest mushrooms hardly grow these days. Our priority should be to create a sustainable environment for the natural ecosystem to thrive. We need cleaner sources of energy, better laws and administration at from our government, and we need to understand that the last link of the chain is not nearly as important as the first. As long as that happens, tigers can most certainly take care of themselves.

A rare red and white tiger, spotted in its natural habitat.

As much as I’d like to deny it, bike riding is torture. It hurts the back, balls, and the inner thighs become so sore that the mere act of getting up from the bike and walking a few steps is like an orgasm. I knew this from my Bangalore trip, and I knew it would be the same for the next one.

I don’t know what calls me to make a biking trip. Is it the poetic idea of ‘hitting the road’, or the fear that this is the only age I’ll get to ‘freak out’ so? I don’t know. So without an explanation as to why, I’ll give you a short note on what went down that road.

On the travel plan

I depend on Google Maps. I look through the images, jotting down my path. This time, it was a 400km straight ride to Mangalore, cut across to Metikali (Coorg), and ride through the Nilgiris, passing some flatlands in Kerala, Gudalur, climbing up into Ooty, and finally, Coonoor, where my aunt awaited my arrival with chocolates made just for me.

On Getting there

There weren’t any surprises. I had initially planned on staying at my uncle’s place in Mangalore, but I got there at ~2 in the morning. Add to that now-city is completely unrecognizabke from 3 years ago. Lodges were closed. I managed to find a lonely bus stop with ledges wide enough to accomodate me. It was some terrible mosquito ridden sleep, but I needed it.

I arrived at Coorg late afternoon, and got a royal welcome at Sujata and Anurag’s Eco tourism retreat—dad’s friends. Chilled. Ate. Slept (fucking cold). Left early next morning.

Nothing much to add here. Some rough roads in between, not the greatest of scenery, and food was nothing compared to back home. Fucking Keralites and their coconut oil. I reached Coonoor withi 48 hours of leaving home—actual riding time an unknown.

On Riding Gear

Unlike the last time, I decided to get me some good riding gear to protect me from the cold as well as reduce injury should I crash into a cow. I’ve got to hand it to the Cramster guys. Splendid jacket. Not only could I ride in extreme cold, the jacket beathes enough to make riding in the hot sun quite tolerable. At no point did I get any shivers of any kind, nor did I feel the need to take it off in the sub. Only, if I did stop in the sun , I had to immediately take it off because it just absorbed all that heat leaving me drenched in sweat. Overall amazing constriction, protection, safety, and it looks awesome too.

On The Nilgiris

It’s breathtaking. The green tea gardens, the deep valleys, the clouds beneath. Riding between Coonoor, Kotagiri, and Ooty was sheer joy. The roads are smooth and well maintained. The gear of course protected me from the cold.

After two days of this though, its artificial face showed through. Neatly arranged tea gardens doesn’t exactly spell out ‘nature’. There were of course evergreen forests; beautifully covering the road in certain areas, and I enjoyed riding through those under the thick canopy.

On Coldness

I hate the fucking cold. I hate sleeping under heavy quilts, I hate heating water every time I want to drink, and I hate having my dick frozen every time I have to take a piss. Maybe I’m too stupid to actually like the hot Goan weather; I just do. That is not to say I suffered all these days. I can very well take the cold for a few days or even months. But living I do only in the tropics.

On Aunt’s place in Coonoor

For all those family folks reading this, Anjie’s place is awesome. Really nicely designed, elegant furniture, utilitarian too. Awesome that she made time for even though she was so busy.

On Photography

I hate photographers who post awesome shots, and then complain that they didn’t get it right or some bullshit like that. Also, I’m not a photographer (yet), so I didn’t expect my pictures to make it to people’s desktop wallpapers. During my trip, I remembered something a photography great had said. It’s not about having great lenses, or having years of experience (although those help). Photography is about getting up early in the morning. It’s about hiking to the precise spot on that hill. It’s about stopping, setting up your equipment, and working just because you think a particular scene might end up being a good shot.

I certainly couldn’t wake up at 5 in the morning; it was too cold and I was lazy. But if you allow me to blame equipment for my crappy shots: First, I didn’t have a UV or Polarizer filter on my lens so there was all kinds of weird hues. Second, while travelling, my bag was tied to my bike. So I couldn’t leave it unattended. Third, my left toe was hurting.

On South India

It sucks. No one speaks English or Hindi, so all I could say was “illa placename“. Road signs are all in freakin hibberish—why would they renamed a lovely name like Ooty to Ugamimagadipadam?—and the the coolest place around town was a Cafe Coffee Day. The moment I crossed the Karnataka border into Goa, I could feel the difference. For one, there’s a bar every 200 metres or so (with increasing frequency until they’re actually touching one another). For another, the people are just fun.

On Aloneness

“Of course I’ll be joining you”, said one. Another had already set aside cash. Another was just a few hours away, so definitely. I knew ultimately I would be the only one going on this epic journey. First, I don’t mind the alone. While riding I don’t see how company helps other than for protection should something happen. It would have been nice to have someone on to roam around the place though. To see a breathtaking sight, and all you’re surrounded with are monkeys and yanda-gundu speaking people isn’t all that fun.

Oh I’ll be doing this again. For sure.

As usual, we uphold the tradition of stealing people’s Christmas stars on New Year’s night. Again, one can’t take great pics in minimal light, no tripod, and on the lookout for people who might want to kill the fucking thieves.