A Quiet Stare

By Madan Shrestha

It had been a long afternoon, the kind where the sun starts to dip, painting the sky in soft oranges and purples. We’d been moving slowly, just the quiet hum of the vehicle and the rustle of dry grass, hoping for a glimpse. Then, there he was, tucked away, almost blending into the deepening shadows. He was just still, watching us. Not with aggression, not with fear, but with a deep, calm presence. The light was fading quickly, but for a few seconds, it caught his mane, making it glow like a halo against the dark behind him. It felt like time just stopped, and it was only us, sharing that quiet space. In moments like these, you don’t just observe an animal; you feel the wild, its ancient rhythm. That direct look, it stays with you, a quiet reminder of how much there is to simply be present for.