Safari Gujarati Magazine Telegram -

The reply came after two minutes: “The safari never ends, Ashokbhai. It just changes vehicles.”

Ashok typed his final command of the day: /subscribe . Then he took a sip of his chai, now slightly cold, and turned the page—even if it was digital.

But last year, the print edition closed. Ashok felt a strange grief, like losing a quiet friend. He missed the smell of the paper. He missed folding the corner of a page with a breathtaking photograph. Safari Gujarati Magazine Telegram

The next morning, Ashok made his chai, sat in his usual chair, but this time held his phone. He didn’t scroll. He just typed: /kutch desert 1999 .

For twenty-three years, Ashok Vora started his Thursday mornings the same way. Chai in one hand, the crisp, ink-smelling pages of Safari magazine in the other. The Gujarati monthly had been his window to the world—from the dense forests of Kanha to the icy cliffs of Antarctica. He loved the way the writers described a leopard’s sigh or the silence of a desert at midnight. The reply came after two minutes: “The safari

He read it. The words were exactly the same. The magic was still there.

The Last Page

Later, he messaged the channel admin: “Thank you for keeping the wild alive.”

His grandson, Rohan, noticed the unread magazines piling up on the table. “Dada, why don’t you just read on your phone?” But last year, the print edition closed

Ashok squinted at the phone. Rohan had typed a command: /antarctica . Within seconds, a PDF appeared—the exact September 2011 issue where Ashok had first read about the Weddell seals. Another command: /nilgai . A 2018 feature story on the blue bulls of Gujarat popped up.