In company of stripes: What tigers taught me about the wild, ourselves

There are moments in life that linger longer than they should. The hush before a tiger appears from the undergrowth, the collective inhale of the forest, and the flicker of stripes against filtered sunlight, these moments stay with you.

- DHAWAL SURANA

In the many years I've spent chasing silence, waiting in dust-laden gypsy trails, and sitting still with a camera pressed to my face, I've come to realize that the tiger is not just the king of the jungle. It is the soul of our forests. And in many ways, it has become the compass of my own life.

I didn't begin my journey in the wild with any grand plan. Like most obsessions, it began with curiosity. One trip to Corbett. One sighting. One look from a tigress as she crossed a narrow trail with her cubs, completely ignoring my presence but somehow acknowledging it too. I remember not being able to sleep that night, rewinding that moment in my head. Since then, what began as a hobby slowly became a calling.

I've followed tigers across India's densest forests, from the dry arid golds of Ranthambore to the lush, tangled greens of Corbett and the surreal sal and bamboo landscapes of Kanha and Tadoba. Each encounter has chipped away parts of who I thought I was, revealing a quieter, more aware version of myself.