There are a plethora of how-to books and articles in the market. How to lose weight, how to score with girls, how to get rich, how to retire early, how to improve your sex life etc etc.
This one below will make as much sense as any of them, IMHO...
So, without boring you further, let's head straight to "How to frighten a tiger! In his own den!"
Step 1: Take a huge, noisy vehicle which clatters and clangs at every bump and trough in the wild road. No rubber lining on the doors, please. See below for illustration.
Step 2: Get a full blown Gujju family as your co-passengers. The ideal family shall include one floral print bush shirt with cream trousers wearing uncle, one ill-fitting tee-wearing aunty, their old, half bent if-I-see-a-tiger-I'll-die-of-fright maaji, two daughters, atleast one of which should be wearing a shocking pink top which glitters in the sunlight.
Step 3: Say nothing while said Gujju family does what typical Gujju families do. (Aside: Whatever you say counts for zilch, so save your breath). Explanations given below for reference.
Explanation 3a: Gujju aunty would loudly open Kurkure packet (1 No.), biscuit packets (2 Nos.) and offer it to everyone in the vehicle. Yes, even to poor Michael from UK sitting in the corner trying to ignore the antics. Offering Nice biscuits is her way of being nice.
Explanation 3b: Gujju aunty would request you to pass on water bottles, shawl, biscuit and miscellaneous other items from her seat in the third row to thirsty, shivering, hungry maaji sitting in the first row. Of course, Gujju aunty would realize that we are not supposed to talk, and thus would whisper loudly to you. Or worse, poke you. Not Facebook style. You, of course, should helpfully sit in the second row.
Explanation 3c: Gujju uncle would shout "Arre, thepla devanu" (ok, pardon my gujrati), when he sees some deer. (note to dim-witted readers: Not even deer in the wild can resist the irresistable urge to taste some methi thepla.)
Explanation 3d: Gujju daughter number one would wave the packet of Kurkure at a herd of elephants. If at first, they ignore, she'd wave harder. GD No.1 would also make strange noises while waving.
Explanation 3e: When the vehicle reaches the spot where there are three other vehicles waiting (noiselessly!) near a bush, and one of the drivers puts a finger on his lips to indicate we should maintain silence, Gujju daughter number two would helpfully make "tch tch tchu" noises, as if trying to call out to a dog. The expression on the face of the firangs who have been waiting there for an hour and a half is a sight to behold, much better than any tiger can offer.
Step 4: Sit back and marvel at the ability of a single non-violent, peace-loving, Gandhiji-birth state-native, pure-vegetarian-not-even-onion-eating family's ability to frighten the majestic king of the jungle into hiding. Armed with nothing more than a packet of Kurkure, and a shocking pink top.
Step 5 (Bonus tip): Rest your eyes on the bare shoulders of the feminine half of the honeymooning couple in the front row. Try to remember whether the dress she's wearing is what they call a halter-neck. Try not to cringe at the purple bra-straps peeking out. (Important: Resist urge to pull said strap and see whether it snaps back with a pop sound!!!).
PS: Regional non-discrimination disclaimer: I have nothing against Gujjus. Some of my best friends come from that state.
PS2: Inspired from Son-of-Bosey's "Wash Basin is not a verb" joke: Spotted Deer is not a verb!!