The conservationist and ardent campaigner died on May 31st, aged 73 Once seen, he was not easily forgotten. In his kingdom, the national tiger reserve of Ranthambore in Rajasthan, he patrolled night and day, solitary, guarding what was his. His shoulders were broad, his girth impressive; he exuded power and purpose. A thick ruff of hair grew on his cheeks, and his eyes bored and blazed. No one registered more intently the trail of pug-marks or the flocking of vultures; the deer sucking up water-plants from the shallows of Rajbagh Lake, their antlers flat among the lotus flowers, and the crocodiles that pulled them under; each piglet-rustle in the tall grass. His speed, when he charged, was terrifying. Many of his kind were lazy, but not he; day and night he paced his territory, fearless and often roaring. His name was Genghis. But anyone who mistook him for Valmik Thapar ...
