Meta description: The Sanjay Gandhi National Park is nestled on the periphery of the massive urban metropolis of Mumbai. It seems incredible that you can take a safari to see lions and tigers so close to a big city. Discover more about this amazing National Park, and book a safari today.

Sanjay Gandhi National Park Safari 

 It isn't very common for city dwellers to get the opportunity to see wild animals. In Mumbai, the wildlife is on their doorstep. Within half and hours drive of the ity centre, the people of Mumbai can take a safari to see lions and tigers. These big cats live in Mumbai, in and area that covers 20% of the city. It sounds amazing, but there they are, in their own Mumbai neighbourhood. So do the neighbourly thing, pay them a visit, and who knows, a tiger might repay the kindness, and come to tea. 

 Best Time for Sanjay Gandhi National Park Safari 

November-February - Winter Season: The ideal time for bird watching. 

April-May - Summer Season: Although the weather is hot, these are the best months to see a larger variety of wild animals. 

July-October - Monsoon Season: The heavy rains wash away the heat and dust, rejuvenating the forest with vibrant, lush, green colours. 

 Animals to Spot on Sanjay Gandhi National Park Safaris 

 During the summer months, you are more likely to see spotted deer, Indian flying foxes, Indian hares, porcupines, and crocodiles. 

In the winter, bird watchers will have a higher chance of spotting birds like the Shikra, Black Kite, Crested Honey Buzzard, and Crested Serpent Eagles. 

On a lion and tiger safari, you will obviously be able to spot lions and tigers. 

 Sanjay Gandhi National Park Safari Timings 

 9am to 130pm and 2.30pm to 4.30pm 

All safaris are in a caged bus, and last 30 minutes. 

 Sanjay Gandhi National Park Safari Cost 

Tiger Safari: Adults 70 INR, Children 28 INR 

Tiger and Lion Safari: Adults 81 INR, Children 32 INR

The Fortieth

 

I went to a fortieth today. my mum's brother's wife's sister's husband died forty days ago, so it was his fortieth. It was a large gathering of family and friends and by the looks of it lots of passer-by's who were interested in the free grub. It was a mixed gathering of Shia and Sunni but segregated too, women inside and men out in the street.

Persian carpets stretched out across the road with a narrow strip of cotton cloth in the middle travelling the length of the carpet, on which the food would be placed. A canopy had been erected above the carpets to protect people from the glare of the late afternoon sun.

Before the food there was a Shia cleric who would lead the prayers for the dead and give a sermon. It was about the importance of prayer and as is usually the case with Shia clerics, he brought the talk round to the matyrdom of Imam Hussain and his voice broke a few times. Then the prayers. Fruit was brought out and words from the Quran were recited over them.

As the time for breaking the fast drew near, it was the month of Ramadan, large trays of fruit were placed before a long line of seated people who flanked both sides of the white cotton cloth. There was a tray in front of me and a minute before the call to prayer someone asked for some fruit. The tray was lifted. It was filled with dates, bunches of bananas and sliced segments of apples and peaches. As it started moving away from me people began grabbing for the fruit like frenzied monkeys. I reached for a date and decided to settle for that. The man sitting next to me had about 8 bananas in his plate. I didn't even have a plate. I looked around and noticed how some people had piles of fruit while others had none. I was amazed at the time but realised later that these were the people who had come off the streets.

As the call to prayer rang out I had my date and then reached out for a banana from the man with all the bananas on my right. He didn't object. I noticed the boy on my left wasn't eating. It was a mixed gathering and the Shia's break their fast 10 minutes later than the Sunnis. Don't ask me why because I have no idea. Ten minutes later he and the other Shia's broke their fast. A man came round and distributed the naan, placing them on a plate between the diners. The man to my right had finished his bananas and he grabbed 3 of the seven naans in front of him. Someone opposite me grabbed another 3 and someone else went for the last one. I looked on in wonder at these antics. I mean, it wasn't as if they were going to run out of naans or anything else for that matter. There was an old man directly opposite me who was dismayed at the disappearance of the naans. He managed to get one of the three naans from the man sitting next to him and then proceeded to fold it up and hide it in his clothing. He then asked for another naan from a passing waiter, and placed it on his plate with great reverence.

When the bowls of chicken curry arrived the old man was very animated, calling for a bowl to be placed before him but to his consternation one was placed a few people to his right and another a few people to his left. He was about to complain loudly when a bowl piled higher than the others was passed to him and he joyfully began piling his plate with large chunks of curried chicken. I was too busy watching him to realise that everyone else was helping themselves too. When a bowl was eventually passed to me there was a small piece of chicken neck swimming in a curry sauce. I made a start on that hoping they wouldn't be long with the refills. But when they came they were quickly dispatched too. I waited until things settled down and reached for a vacant bowl and helped myself to a chicken wing. All through the meal I watched the old man opposite me and wondered where he was putting his food. I helped myself to one of my neighbour's naans. He did have 3 after all. I noticed he has acquired another 3 from somewhere and was using them to work his way through a pile of chicken. How could these people eat so much?

And then the sweet rice arrived. People were still on their first course so it sat for a while but I did notice the old man eyeing it from time to time. He had finished off his naan and he was now busy separating the bones from the meat of his remaining chicken pieces. He then reached for the tray of sweet rice and scooped a mountain of rice on top of the chicken. After that I just couldn't look.

Rocky: A Eulogy

 

Rocky died on October 18. He was ten years old. He was a happy and friendly dog. He had two brown patches around his eyes like a mask. The brown fur continued along his back to his tail like a superhero’s cloak. Rocky’s superpower was kindness. He loved small fluffy animals, be they chicks, bunnies or kittens, and they loved him. Two days before he died, I saw four kittens curled up next to him keeping him company.

I buried him in the garden, his face turned towards our front door. Later that day my daughter and I listened to a Japanese song that played at the start of a Japanese drama series called Midnight Diner. We couldn’t understand the words so we read a translation of the lyrics:

That white breath of yours

Now drifts with the wind

Within the clouds in the sky

Little by little it dissipates

“That’s Rocky,” I said.

My daughter started to cry. I had tears in my eyes too. We sat side by side listening to the rest of the song in silence. In the evening we watched the final episode of Midnight Diner, and said goodbye to Rocky.