SO SPLENDID I’VE HAD TO SHUT UP.

Ah…That was a well-satisfied ‘Ah’ by the way. To say that I have been having the time of my life would be an exercise in banality. But it also would express the truth, one hundred percent. This trip has really been up there with the greats. Right up with when my mother (now sadly deceased) took me into the dense undergrowth of our beloved Ranthambore for my very first hunt and kill. 

 More importantly, this trip has been one of those life altering ones. It maybe has wiped out my previous tracks and formed a new path on which I must prowl. For until this time, I had always just flirted with the Rickshaw Run, seeing it as a entertaining dalliance but knowing within my depths that I must return to the jungle. Now, I am not so sure. Maybe the Rickshaw Run is my calling, and I should just spend my years going from one end of my beloved country to another.

Think I'm addicted.

“It’s a drag”, I hear you say. ‘Doing the same triangle over and over again.” On the contrary my dears.  More people waved at me than they have at Shah Rukh Khan in the last 13 days. More tongues have wagged when I passed through villages sat atop my rickshaw than when Prince Harry paraded naked in his hotel room. In the last few days, I’ve paraded through the highly decorated lobbies of the country’s top 5-star hotels with Luke Rachel, Ginnie and Sean. I’ve sat in the lap of luxury and frolicked about quite a bit. Of course, this was to take the edge off the days of driving a three-wheeled tin can through the pot-holed terrain we Indians call roads. Now and then we’ve even mixed extreme luxury with the occasional night spent curled up in the rickshaw. 

I've got fans, alright.

As for the experiences – they were all rather magnificient. I’ve got spa treatment at the Taj Oberoi Taj Mahal Hotel and posed next to the erotic sculptures in Khajuraho. (Seriously - all that trouble to make cubs? These humans need to learn from us tigers.) I’ve taken an exclusive tour of the majestic Taj Mahal, and Fatehpur Sikri.

Of course it hasn’t always been all about luxury (I won’t bore you with any more of that – but oh, the whiteness of the towels I have had, the softness of the cushions I’ve sat on, the freshness of the meat I’ve sunk my canines into…). There were times mind you, when I wasn’t too pleased. Like when we passed through the Panna Tiger Reserve and I found that none of my grand uncles and aunts had survived beyond the millennium. And the few cousins who were around were so fed up of being photographed by tourists that they’d retired recluses in the style of Greta Garbo. So I didn’t really get to say ‘Hi’. But anyway – I did leave my scent and a pugmark or two just so they knew I was there. Then there’s all the cows standing around on the road (who’ve gone from being cute to extremely maddening in my team’s eyes) who I’m still not allowed to eat. In fact, I was once grounded by Ginnie because she found me tucking into a calf atop the rickshaw. I spent the night in the hotel parking lot instead of a comfy bed. GRRRRRRRR.

I'll miss you guys. But can't cry - I'm a tiger after all.

 Anyhow we are in Jodhpur now. Setting off soon for the finish line in Jaisalmer – at the erstwhile home of the Maharaja, the Jawahar Niwas Palace. I have to say I’m excited, counting the hours till I reach, and go back to where I started from. I’ll be sad to say goodbye to Luke, Rachel, Ginnie and Sean but it has to be done. Because it’s just a precursor to the bigger goodbyes I have to say to all my clan in the jungles of Ranthambore. For my mind is made up now – I am giving up the jungle for my Rickshaw Run and this is likely to be the last time I will be seeing them.