Tipeshwar Wildlife Sanctuary | As we approach the arid region of southwestern Maharashtra, a stark landscape of blackish-brown soil devoid of greenery stretches before us. An occasional Palash tree, covered in orange blooms, provides the only cheerful relief. Having shed their leaves, the teak trees stand bare—waiting to don their fresh green attire for spring.
At Sterling Tipeshwar, there’s a choral evensong by birds. With the Tipeshwar Tiger Sanctuary in its backyard and the resort’s green heart nurturing over 50 fruit-bearing trees, it serves as a secluded retreat for diverse bird species. In his welcome note, Resort Manager John Maliakal requests, “As a gesture of respect to the original inhabitants of this land, kindly refrain from playing loud music. Due to the adjacent forest, sambar, spotted deer, and nilgai frequently wander near the property. It is advisable to retire to your tent by 10:30 pm.” Heeding his advice, I retire early, falling asleep to the night concert of crickets.
Just before dawn, we set out for our first safari with guide Srikant, venturing into the undulating woods and grasslands of the Tipeshwar Wildlife Sanctuary. We drive past teak, red sandalwood, and bamboo groves. Suddenly, Srikant receives a message: tigers have been sighted. We speed off in a rush to reach the spot in time. Jeeps ahead of us kick up dust clouds, and the rough roads make the ride uncomfortable. In the commotion, I miss capturing photos of a sounder of 15–20 wild boars sprinting across and, later, a herd of spotted deer stotting away in fear.
Several jeeps are parked at the sighting spot, their occupants waiting with bated breath. Behind tall, dry grass, two ears emerge in the golden morning light. Slowly, Sitara rises, approaches a tree trunk as if to climb, then changes her mind and walks toward us. She pauses, scanning the jeeps and their passengers. From the bushes, her sibling Chhava joins her. They sit together for five minutes, still and majestic—time stands still as we watch in awe.
While some of us capture this precious moment for Instagram, Chhava rises and walks toward our jeep—too close for comfort. Displeased by our stares, he turns back, rejoins Sitara, and the duo disappears into the forest. It was the most gratifying moment of the trip—almost making eye contact with them. Words can’t quite capture it. Surreal is the closest I can come.
Srikant tells us Sitara and Chhava are from the same litter. Chhava was originally called Rocky but was renamed after the Marathi film "Chhava" started trending. Their mother, Archi—named after the lead character in "Sairat"—was born in 2018. She had four cubs with Zanjeer, but only Sitara and Chhava survived. Both are sub-adults, attempting to strike out independently like most teenagers.
Near a jungle lake, we pause at an abandoned school building—now a safari stop with a small canteen. Over hot poha and piping chai, Srikant shows me pictures from his gallery, introducing me to each tiger by name and backstory.
That evening, at Sterling’s barbeque, I met a local man from a nearby village. He told me the tragic story of Avani, a tigress who inspired the Vidya Balan-starrer "Sherni." Avani is remembered for her majesty and the bitter legacy of human-wildlife conflict.
She once roamed these forests freely with her two cubs, but after allegedly killing 11 to 12 people, she was labelled a man-eater. For 14 months, forest authorities tried to capture her. Eventually, in 2018, to prevent further casualties, a sharpshooter from Hyderabad was brought in to kill her. Her female cub died despite rescue attempts; the male cub vanished into a nearby forest.
My guide for the next safari is Chandrakant Madavi from the Pardhan tribe. Most guides and drivers here belong to tribal communities like Kolam, Gond, and Bhil. “We tribals practise Nisarga Puja—we worship trees, rivers, mountains, and the earth,” says Chandu. “I grew up in these forests, watching wild animals daily.”
Chandu left his job in the electricity department to return to the jungle. He knows every trail, tree, and tiger. Tracking the pawprints of a sloth bear family, he speaks of tiger lineages and territorial dynamics. “This area has four tigresses—each needs about 35 sq km. There’s Archi, Pilkhanwali Choti, Four-Mark Wali (with three cubs), and Daisy, pregnant with Veer’s cubs. A single male rules an area of 120–130 sq km. Veer, the alpha now, migrated here from Tadoba. Next season, Sitara and Chhava will be driven out as adults, but one day they’ll return to challenge the dominant tigers and claim their own territories. Since 2014, about 40 tigers have dispersed after coming of age. The cycle continues,” he says philosophically.
Can this charming little sanctuary remain unspoilt? How will it protect itself from over-tourism and human-wildlife conflict?
Divisional Forest Officer Uttam Phad explains: “Tipeshwar Wildlife Sanctuary remains largely undiscovered due to its remote location. Tourism is limited to just 8–10 per cent of the sanctuary’s 148 sq km—well below the Supreme Court’s 20 per cent cap. This allows tigers to roam freely in undisturbed zones. We’ve relocated the villages inside the sanctuary, leaving only one on the outskirts.”
He adds, “With 16+ resident tigers, the population is growing, though many migrate every two-three years. Human attacks have significantly declined thanks to regular awareness campaigns on avoiding tiger encounters. To reduce conflict, we’ve increased grass species for herbivores and distributed solar fencing to farmers.”
Someday, I hope to return to Tipeshwar—perhaps to see Chhava as the reigning alpha male and Sitara raising cubs of her own.
Tipeshwar Wildlife Sanctuary is accessible via Nagpur, the nearest airport 170 km away. It lies along NH44, roughly a six-hour drive from Hyderabad and 3.5 hours from Nagpur.
Accommodation options range from luxury to budget, with properties like Sterling Tipeshwar, Tipai, Tiger Tales, and Avani catering to travellers' preferences.
The best time for tiger sightings is from March to June when the forest is dry and visibility is high, while October to February offers pleasant weather that is ideal for birdwatching. Note that the sanctuary remains closed on Tuesdays and during the monsoon season.