QUEEN of the Lakes

The man who spent years tracking, observing and documenting India's wildlife shares the powerful, personal story of Ranthambhore's most unforgettable tigress

- Sachin Rai, Ishani Nandi

THERE ARE SOME creatures that pass through the wild without a sound, and others who leave their mark forever—etched not just in the landscape they inhabit, but in the hearts of those who have seen them.

For me, Arrowhead was one such being.

I've been photographing wildlife for over 25 years now. Growing up in India, with its astonishing diversity of landscapes and life forms, I found myself drawn to the natural world early on—first to birds, then frogs, and eventually to the most enigmatic of them all: the tiger. It’s almost inevitable, I think, for an Indian wildlife photographer to fall under their spell. There's something about their beauty, strength, and mystery that pulls you in completely.

I still remember the first time I held a camera on one of those early wildlife education tours by WWF India, back in 2000. That trip changed something in me. From a stable corporate career to travelling across India's wild heartlands with a film camera in hand, it sparked the beginning of a lifelong pursuit. Back then, I would spend nights examining photo negatives under a tube-light, hoping to catch that one shot that told a story. This obsession with story, with watching and documenting life unfolding in front of me, has never left.

Over the years, my work has taken me to many of India’s tiger reserves, but Bandhavgarh and Ranthambhore have a special place in my heart. And Ranthambhore—dry, rugged, and starkly beautiful—is unlike any other. It’s a world of golden grasslands, scattered rocks, and twisted trees, where over 40 species of mammals and 300 species of birds thrive. But it’s the tiger who reigns supreme.