Dr. Manoranjan Mishra Assistant Professor, Translator, Editor

  Tiger-sighting   Neither did I watch him lazing in the lonely caves of the forest nor while majestically chasing a herd of deer, nor did I witness his burning eyes in a drunken stormy Amavasya night, not even the dance of death when he sprang upon his prey from under the cover of bamboo trees I watch him, a coward spectator, from the safe confines of the third tier.   From that safe distance, I watch his dimensions the lines of black painted on yellow wool, the sharp knife-like nails in the paw-sheath, seem to be enjoying a life of disuse.   Stuffing the facial skeleton with flesh and blood and filling the eyes with volcanic lava perhaps one can draw a parallel picture, and recreate a face like that of this poor tiger.   The sleepy royal yawn has enough power to shatter the breast of some garjat forest, dread, swirling like the banati fire, strikes the lone traveler passing through the ghat.   A sing...