Parag Deka has always had a connection with wildlife. Perhaps because he grew up in Kokrajhar, a town surrounded by Sal forests, along the Western border of Assam.

He was only eight years old when he rescued a few baby birds that lay wounded on the ground after a storm hit the state. He took them home and tended to them. Most of the fledgelings died, which he buried with a solemn prayer, but a few lucky ones recovered, and he set them free.

That was the first time he experienced the joys of saving animals. Little did he know that years later, he would be leading the brigade to save an entire species from extinction.

Deka is now a veterinarian and conservationist heading the Pygmy Hog Conservation Program (PHCP) run jointly by Indian authorities, the Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust, and a local NGO called Aaranyak.

“It has given my life purpose,” Dr Deka, who has dedicated his entire career to the conservation of the pygmy hogs, tells The Better India. “The way I see it, I am spending my one human life to save a whole species from extinction.”

The World’s Tiniest Pig

The pygmy hog is the smallest species of wild pigs known to us. About the size of a house cat, pygmy hogs are on average 60 centimetres long and 25 centimetres tall. They are extremely rare, confined to the grasslands of Assam at the foothills of the Himalayas. Surveys using droppings and other markings as well as camera traps estimate that there are now 300 pygmy hogs currently left in the wild.

They are very shy animals and hypersensitive to their environment. They can only survive in the grasslands, hiding in the tall grass, wary of predators.

Initially, these grasslands were converted into fields, farms, grazing grounds, and villages. The destruction of their habitat due to human activity is why they’re endangered today.

Because pygmy hogs are so sensitive, they act as a measure of the health of the ecosystem. Striving to conserve such indicator species indirectly contributes to maintaining their habitats, which have huge ecological and economic advantages.

Deka explains, “These wet grasslands serve as buffers against floods in the rainy season while maintaining high groundwater levels in the dry season, which indirectly benefits farming communities.”

The Pygmy Hog Conservation Program (PHCP)

It was the naturalist and conservationist Gerald Durrell’s keen interest in pygmy hogs during the ’60s and ’70s that laid the foundation for their protection.

Later in 1995, the PHCP was established by biologists Dr Goutam Narayan and William Oliver of the Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust (DWCT). At the time, the hog population was at an all-time low.

In 1997, Deka, who was studying a masters in veterinary science, joined the team as an intern. After the internship concluded, he had the opportunity to join a college as a lecturer, but instead, he followed his heart and stayed on with PHCP.

“I am only continuing the legacy work started by Durrell, Oliver, and Goutam,” says Deka.

How To Save A Species

Bringing a species back to life needs a multifold approach. One of the main endeavours of PHCP is conservation breeding, that is, the captive breeding of pygmy hogs with the objective of reintroducing a subset back into the wild.

In 1996, two males and four females of the last remaining wild hog population were captured at Manas and brought to Basistha Research & Breeding centre for this purpose. The PHCP always has at least 70 captive hogs at their facilities. Over the past 11 years, they have reintroduced 130 pygmy hogs in four national parks and wildlife sanctuaries in Assam (Orang, Sonai Rupali, Manas, and Barnadi).

Before reintroduction, the hogs are trained in surviving in the wild at a pre-release facility in Potasali, Nameri Tiger Reserve. The hogs survival, health, and activities are tracked using field signs such as nests, forage marks, droppings, as well as modern technology like camera traps and radio telemetry.

Another important element of the conservation action plan is the up-gradation and protection of the sub-Himalayan grasslands. Deka and his team work closely with the fringe communities in the area to spread awareness of the importance of habitat maintenance.

Bringing The Wild Hog Back To Nature

Deka recalls seeing images of the released pygmy hogs for the first time.

“Three years ago, I was in my room at Nameri scanning through thousands of camera trap pictures. It is a tedious process but we need hard evidence of how the hogs are faring in the wild after reintroduction,” says Deka.

And then he spotted the tiny hogs in two images. But they weren’t alone. The mother hogs were accompanied by their young ones. The implications were huge. They were not only surviving, but the hogs had started breeding in their natural habitats!

The reintroductions have been very successful. In Orang, the numbers have more than doubled and the hogs have migrated to areas far from the release locations. In Manas, the total count of reintroduced hogs and their offspring is estimated to have reached 200.

Starting in 2021, another 60 hogs will be released over a five-year period in the Bhuyanpara range of Manas. Efforts are underway to identify and restore other protected grasslands for reintroduction.

In the coming years, Deka’s team is looking to do for other endangered species what they have done for the pygmy hog. Guided by Durrell’s ‘Rewild Our World’ strategy, the PHCP is now working on the recovery of highly threatened animals such as the Bengal Florican, the Hispid Hare, Eastern Barasingha, and the Water Buffalo.

In order to do so, they are using a three-pronged approach: Restore (the environment), Reconnect (with the communities) and Revive (repopulate the grasslands with several endangered species).

“We have drafted a plan for until 2025, the 100th birth anniversary of Gerald Durrell, the founder of Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust and whose vision has helped save the pygmy hogs from extinction,” Deka explains.
You can also help save this unique species by spreading awareness, helping raise funds and by volunteering at the conservation facilities.

(Edited by Yoshita Rao)

Attending the Pacific Asia Travel Association (PATA) conference in Kathmandu, Nepal, back in 1978, Karnataka’s tourism minister at the time, R Gundu Rao, was given lodging at the famous Tiger Tops Jungle Lodge at the Royal Chitwan National Park.

(Image above of ‘Papa’ John Wakefield with American actress Goldie Hawn at Kabini River Lodge courtesy JLR)

Deeply impressed by the resort—its facilities and the model of leveraging Chitawan’s stunning natural beauty to attract tourists in a responsible manner—Gundu Rao felt a similar model could be adopted in his home state which was home to a myriad of wildlife species.

Upon his return, he invited Tiger Tops to open a similar resort at the Rajiv Gandhi National Park or Nagarhole in Karnataka. Jim Edwards, the owner of Tiger Tops, sent two men to fulfill this demand—Ramesh Mehra and Colonel John Felix Wakefield. A year later, the Government of Karnataka announced that it had entered into a partnership with Tiger Tops and unveiled Jungle Lodges and Resorts, India’s first venture into eco-tourism.

However, the idea of constructing a lodge inside Nagarhole was junked when it was declared a national park since as per the Wildlife Protection Act, 1972, any construction of commercial tourist lodges was prohibited in a declared forest area. Instead, Mehra and Wakefield searched for locations where they could set up this resort and found a former hunting lodge of the Maharaja of Mysore in Karapur on the northern banks of the Kabini river.

Developed as a joint venture between the Government of Karnataka and Tiger Tops, the Kabini River Lodge was open to the general public in 1980. But a couple of years after the lodge was opened to the general public, Tiger Tops withdrew from the partnership and sold off their stake to the Government of India. Today, it’s 100 per cent owned by the Karnataka government. In the decades since the River Kabini Lodge was opened, it has earned a reputation of being one of the best wildlife resorts in the world and established a model for eco-tourism, which is today a major instrument of wildlife conservation efforts all over India.

What’s interesting to note is that while it was Gundu Rao who came up with the idea, it was the work of a former British soldier, conservationist and former employee of Tiger Tops, Colonel John Felix Wakefield, fondly known as ‘Papa’, who ensured that India’s first eco-tourism venture took off. He remained the lodge’s resident director for the following few decades.

Unlike conventional tourism, the objective of eco-tourism is to educate the tourists about their natural surroundings and help them develop a genuine appreciation for it. These initiatives are also about ensuring that local communities living in and around these forests are made genuine stakeholders. Suffice it to say, our natural forests are best protected by educating visitors along with sustaining the livelihood of local communities.

As the resident director, ‘Papa’ Wakefield was instrumental in applying these principles.

An Englishman Who Made India His Home

Born on 21 March 1916 in Gaya, Bihar, Wakefield came from a long line of Englishmen, starting with his great grandfather who came to India in 1826 to join the army of the erstwhile Bengal Presidency under the East India Company. His father, meanwhile, was employed by the Maharaja of Tikari in Bihar.

Growing up, it was in the private forest of the Maharaja, where he picked up his first passion for hunting. There is anecdotal evidence to suggest that he shot his first tiger at the age of 9 and first leopard when he was 10. It was a childhood largely filled with fun and adventure, but his father soon sent him to England for his formal studies. Upon his return to India, he furthered his passion for hunting, and even met the legendary Jim Corbett on such hunts.

“During the war (World War II) in 1941, he had enlisted in the Emergency Commission of the British Army which took him across North India and Burma. Fighting in Burma, Wakefield also succumbed to the typical war-time romance. He met and married a British nurse working in Q A Army Hospital. But after his wife’s father fell seriously ill, the family left for England in 1958. He never met her again, though his two daughters and their children visited him often in India,” notes this profile on Wakefield published in the Deccan Herald. It also cites another instance when Wakefield had a chance to leave India in 1948, when his mother warned him, “India is going to the dogs”. But while she left, he stayed.

After he left the army in 1954, he rekindled his passion for hunting, organising trips for tourists. But it was the growing public discourse on wildlife conservation highlighted by news of the dwindling number of tigers in the early 1970s and the subsequent enactment of the Wildlife Protection Act of 1972 that finally converted him into a conservationist.

Kabini Lodge: Introducing Eco-Tourism to India

When Tiger Tops split from the Jungle Lodges venture barely a few years after their partnership with the Government of Karnataka was announced with much fanfare, it was Wakefield who held fort at the Kabini River Lodge.

The challenges of running such a venture were immense. For starters, various environmentalists of the day panned the very rationale of wildlife tourism and establishing jungle lodges in Karnataka’s wildlife sanctuaries.

Some called it “ecocide” while others raised concerns about how such establishments would “upset the delicate balance between nature and wildlife”.

Nonetheless, one official at the Jungle Lodges and Resorts venture responded to this criticism by saying, “We are trying to introduce wildlife tourism in a highly specialised, scientific way. Our accent is on quiet, thoughtful and unobtrusive tourism. It would be a harmless way to watch wildlife. And the revenue earned could be used to promote wildlife.”

Meanwhile, there were obstacles set from within with the government bureaucracy trying to impose their own ideas on how this venture would work, besides the forest department’s instinctive suspicion of ‘intruders’ like Colonel Wakefield. But he won them over with his vast knowledge of the jungles, his affable manner and of course his ability to recognise the importance of the local population in ensuring such ventures succeed.

As Geeta Doctor, a Chennai-based journalist and writer, notes in her profile of Wakefield for the Business Standard:

He [Papa Wakefield] was one of those who believed that while it’s the animals who are the prime species in a jungle resort, people also matter.

The local population makes up 90 per cent of the staff at Kabini. At the same time, the hunter-gatherer tribes of the surrounding jungle, the Soligas, have continued their original pursuits as collectors of honey, their villages left undisturbed in the interiors of the forest.

He was aware of how, when the dam was built across the Kabini River at Beechanahalli, many of the older settlements had to be relocated, and how it was that the ancient temples and sacred groves that had been washed away could never be replaced.

That they would be supplanted by a country liquor shop, a permanently shut village dispensary and an ugly cement-and-grilled-metal, asbestos-sheeted shed to house the earlier gods. But his approach was never confrontational. The dam had also allowed the area to become one of the best natural reserves with 250 different bird species, all manner of small and large animals to live together in close harmony with the human population.

His sensitivity to the plight of the local community living in and around the jungle is what eventually translated into the philosophy of the Jungle Lodges and Resorts venture.

As the Jungle Lodges website notes: “We source a large portion of our provisions from local farmers; our staff includes reformed poachers – capitalising on their sound knowledge of the forest and wildlife for the greater good; and our guests often leave as avid endorsers of conservation.”

Offering employment opportunities for local villagers was critical in building local support for conservation efforts. Besides involving those from the local community, the venture was also about educating tourists of the natural wonders before them.

“Wakefield hired Sundar as head naturalist [in 1986] for taking tourists from Kabini Lodge into the Nagarhole National Park, and for teaching locals to be naturalists in the park. Thus, a coherent philosophy of and practice of providing knowledgeable naturalists to accompany tourists in the forest, presenting the park’s features, was implemented by both these national parks [including Bandipur]. Assuming a strong and informative role at the tourist lodges, the naturalists for both parks offered the tourists bird walks, explanations of elephant behaviour and descriptions of the trees in the forest,” notes this chapter in a collection of essays titled ‘Animals in Person: Cultural Perspectives on Human-Animal Intimacies’.

And, of course, there was an intimate bond he shared with the animals roaming these parts, particularly elephants. In fact, some believed that he could actually communicate with them.

Until his eventual passing at the age of 94 on 26 April 2010, Colonel Wakefield soldiered on with his remarkable work in Kabini, which he had made his home for nearly three decades. Along with being credited for the emergence of ecotourism, as an instrument of conservation, in the area, the legacy he leaves behind in Kabini is unquestionable.

(Edited by Yoshita Rao)

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Years from now, when the history of snow leopard conservation in Ladakh is written, two names will shine brighter than the rest—Rinchen Wangchuk, the late co-founder of Snow Leopard Conservancy India Trust (SLC-IT) and Dr Tsewang Namgail (46), the current director of SLC-IT and, arguably, Ladakh’s most accomplished wildlife scientist.

Image above of Rinchen Wangchuk (Left) and Dr. Tsewang Namgail (Right)

It’s impossible to overstate their incredible contributions towards protecting the snow leopard, an apex predator that plays a critical role in maintaining Ladakh’s ecological integrity. From starting India’s first successful community-based snow leopard conservation effort through the promotion of homestays to educating Ladakh’s masses about this
elusive cat, they have rendered yeoman service to the cause.

In the arms of Mother Nature

Rinchen Wangchuk, the son of Colonel Chewang Rinchen, a decorated Indian Army soldier honoured with two Maha Vir Chakras, grew up in the serene village of Sumur in Nubra.

“As a young boy, I grew up chasing Lynxes and going out with herders. I was always drawn to outdoor life and mountaineering. In high school, I started taking Western groups climbing some of the 6,000-metre peaks we have here. As a mountaineer, I got drawn more to the beautiful wonders of Ladakh’s rich biodiversity and tracking snow leopards and wolves. This led to me becoming a nature guide. I began leading some wildlife documentary film groups that came here to film snow leopards. From there, I got more involved with the scientific community,” says Rinchen in this short documentary.

Meanwhile, Dr Tsewang Namgail grew up in the remote yet picturesque village of Skubuchan, which lies about 125 km from Leh. Until he was nine, he studied with fellow village children out in the open amidst nature without a classroom.

“That really exposed me to wildlife and my natural surroundings. On weekdays, I would go to school, while the weekends were spent herding sheep and goats on higher pastures. These experiences exposed me to wildlife, including the snow leopard. As a child herder, I had lost a few sheep and goats to snow leopards. Until I left my village, I never really experienced a formal upbringing, particularly when it came to education since our teachers wouldn’t attend regularly,” recalls Dr Namgail, speaking to The Better India.

Despite Rinchen’s quaint early upbringing in Sumur, his father’s vocation meant travelling to different parts of India and changing schools regularly. After completing his graduation from Delhi, he returned to Ladakh in the late 1990s to work with the International Snow Leopard Trust as a field associate, conducting various surveys.

“Alongside colleagues like Jigmet Dadul (one of India’s leading Snow Leopard naturalists and trackers), we would spend entire winters living in tents and monitoring snow leopards. This was when we realised the plight of rural communities that had to co-exist with this beautiful animal. As beautiful and enigmatic as this animal was to us, it caused a lot of nuisance to farm communities. While earning an income working as a naturalist, I wanted to do something for these communities. It began with volunteering to survey the proposed high-altitude Hemis National Park. I realised that we needed a long term local solution to the problem. It became imperative that we find incentive-based conservation initiatives to help farmers and get them involved in conservation efforts,” says Rinchen in the short documentary.

Dr Namgail took a different route. After completing his MSc in Zoology from Panjab University, he obtained an MSc in Wildlife Biology from the University of Tromso, Norway, and PhD in Wildlife Ecology from the Wageningen University in the Netherlands. Following his stint in Europe, he was a postdoctoral researcher at the United States Geological Survey (USGS) for three years before returning to Ladakh in 2013.

Protecting the Community

As a field associate, Rinchen Wangchuk framed a question that would address the fundamental challenge of snow leopard conservation. How do you reconcile the notion of snow leopard conservation with the needs of local communities who lose their livestock, particularly sheep and goats, to these elusive creatures? Snow leopards were predominantly suffering retaliatory killings at the hands of these communities. Today, there are a little over 250 snow leopards left in Ladakh.

“On one hand, we have an obligation to conserve these animals, while on the other, they pose a genuine threat to livelihoods. In the early days, there were times when I would visit some of these remote villages in the Hemis National Park with Rinchen Wangchuk as an independent wildlife researcher and speak to them about the conservation of these animals. They would stand surprised at our desire to protect an animal they despised, and even name our organisation after it,” recalls Dr Namgail.

To address these concerns, Rinchen established the SLC-IT in 2000 (registered in 2003) alongside Dr Rodney Jackson of the US-based Snow Leopard Conservancy (SLC), to promote local efforts towards community-based conservation efforts. Until 2010-11, the SLC-IT worked as an affiliate of the SLC, before turning independent.

“One step the SLC-IT took is to secure corrals that housed the livestock. Rinchen understood that retributive killings of snow leopards often took place due to multiple livestock killings when the predators managed to enter poorly constructed corrals. We would supply wire mesh to cover the roof of their livestock pens, wooden beams to hold the wire mesh, and material to strengthen their door and door frames to secure the livestock. Sometimes, we encourage them to build entire corrals made of stone from scratch because their livestock pens are attached to their homes, and they are difficult to repair,” says Dr Namgail.

Since its start in 2000, the SLC-IT has helped build more than 200 livestock corrals across Ladakh. However, this initiative’s biggest success story to develop predator-proof livestock enclosures is in Zanskar, where the programme began in 2011. Some of these villages are really remote, and transporting this material is very difficult. These corrals serve entire villages and not just individual households.

“Around 5,000 people have directly benefited from these corrals overall. We estimated that for every 1 corral we build, which can last for 60-70 years, we could save at least 2 snow leopards. This is a very rough estimate based on the frequency with which people kill snow leopards inside their corrals. We always build these corrals in partnership with these communities. Local villagers provide on-site materials like stone and brick. Villages that have trees provide the wooden beams that support the steel mesh on the top. In villages with no trees, we provide them with wooden beams and material for door frames. They build these corrals, while we supply off-site materials and facilitate the process,” he says.

Most of these corral projects are located in the Sham Valley, Rong Valley in Changthang, Zanskar, and some in Nubra like in the very remote Digar-Tangyar rural areas. The SLC-IT also runs a voluntary programme for school and college students from around the world called VolunTourism.

Students spend a week to 10 days in remote villages across Ladakh and help build individual corrals while living with local families and learning about their culture.

Once they helped them build these structures, the next step was to soften local communities’ attitudes towards snow leopards. In 2003, the SLC-IT under the leadership of Rinchen started the pioneering Himalayan Homestay Programme in Rumbak Valley of the Hemis National Park to help villagers offset the financial loss they suffered after losing livestock to snow leopards. At the time, Dr Namgail was researching the Tibetan Argali (wild mountain sheep) and visiting these parts with Rinchen Wangchuk.

“It was actually some of the women in Rumbak village who first proposed this local homestay model to Rinchen. They suggested ‘instead of camping out and littering the place, why can’t tourists live with us inside our homes instead?’ If tourists stay at their homes, they can avoid the trouble of carrying a lot of the camping gear on horses that were grazing on the same pastures as the vulnerable Tibetan Argali and eating up all their food. The SLC-IT also conducted a survey among tourists and locals in the area whether such a model would be acceptable to them,” says Dr Namgail.

So far, the SLC-IT has helped establish 200+ homestays across Sham Valley, Rong Valley and Zanskar. These homestays are in critical snow leopard habitats or along popular trekking routes. Residents are earning anywhere between Rs 15,000 to Rs 2.5 lakh per season (tourist season lasts about six months) depending on the location and popularity of trekking routes. Besides homestays, the SLC-IT encourages the sale of local handicraft products that tourists can take home as souvenirs, creating Eco Cafes serving local delicacies along trekking routes and provision of solar water heaters.

“Conservation-linked homestays were first started in Ladakh and then slowly took off in other areas of the Himalayas. It became a good way of obtaining the support of local communities in snow leopard conservation. It was not snow leopards who were at risk of losing their lives to herders, but wolves as well. The same people who killed these predators in the past are now inviting tourists to their villages to see snow leopards and other wild critters. These homestays were first started in Rumbak in the Hemis National Park, which the state wildlife department took over in 2006,” says Dr Namgail.

“Under Rinchen’s guidance and leadership, the team at SLC-IT developed one of the most successful models of community-based tourism in the Hemis National Park, the Sham region of Ladakh and Zanskar. The Ladakh Himalayan Homestays programme helped the poorest families in villages along popular trekking routes earn an income from tourism. This helped, in part, to offset to a certain extent the economic losses incurred when their livestock was predated upon by snow leopards and Tibetan wolves and fuelled attitudinal changes of villagers towards predators,” writes Sujata Padmanabhan, for Sanctuary Asia, in a tribute to Rinchen, who passed away on 26 March 2011 at the age of 42.

Over the years, many experts contend that there has been a complete shift in local attitudes towards snow leopards in the last 10-15 years. Converting these angry farmers into active conservationists is a significant achievement. Today locals scan the higher reaches to see whether a mother snow leopard has given birth to cubs or not in positive anticipation.

“However, occasional killing on high pastures persisted. To resolve this, SLC-IT started a community-controlled livestock insurance program, whereby the villagers collected premiums from insured animals, and SLC-IT provided a matching fund to create a corpus. The villagers then got compensated from the corpus, which keeps growing in the bank,” notes this story in the Vikalp Sangam publication.

Another facet of their conservation effort was developing a biodiversity resource kit for schools in Ladakh called the Ri-Gyancha meaning ‘jewels of the mountains’ in Ladakhi about a decade ago, alongside Kalpavriksh, a Pune-based NGO.

“The kit contains information about biodiversity, ecosystems, Ladakh’s wildlife, threats faced and conservation actions. It also contains detailed descriptions of 80 activities that can be conducted as part of the program. The kit is illustrated with many photographs and drawings and is in full colour to make it appealing to teachers and children. It includes ready-to-use educational materials such as posters, a board game, card games, worksheets and puzzles,” notes the SLC-IT website.

They also conduct regular workshops in schools and colleges in Leh and Kargil to spread awareness about Ladakh’s biodiversity and help youngsters understand the role of ungulates or snow leopards in maintaining the region’s ecological integrity.

Other Initiatives

Since Rinchen’s passing on at the age of 42 because of a deteriorating neurological condition, Dr Namgail has carried on his mentor’s work. However, between 2011 and 2013, the SLC-IT went through a period of real uncertainty.

It was a serendipitous meeting with the outgoing director in Leh Bazaar during his holidays in 2013, which got him to stay and take over the SLC-IT reins. “It was a difficult decision because I had a good thing going in the US, but at some point, I always wanted to come home and do something for these animals that I held so dearly. After much thought, I took over because Rinchen was such a good friend and mentor to me,” he says.

Since taking over, he has only strengthened the SLC-IT’s initiatives across Ladakh.

“In the early years, Rinchen found it difficult to obtain funding. Whatever initiative he envisioned and started, it was on a smaller scale. In my view, Dr Tsewang Namgail is Ladakh’s most accomplished wildlife scientist. Over the years, he has conducted critical scientific research on not just the snow leopard. Moreover, he has expanded the scale and scope of SLC-IT’s work, particularly in Zanskar and the upper Indus river belt,” says Khenrab Phuntsog, a wildlife guard in Hemis National Park, to The Better India.

During his tenure, he has started a series of initiatives, particularly from 2015 onwards. He started the monastic education programme. SLC-IT apprises Buddhist monks, nuns and religious heads of all the major conservation issues and the wild animals that are threatened or endangered. In return, they impart the message of conservation through the lens of Buddhist principles like inter-dependence and non-violence to their followers.

They have also engaged local villagers in surveying wild animals around their villages and the higher pastures where they take livestock to graze. For the past five years on Snow Leopard Day, these villagers have been going up on the mountains conducting surveys and recording whatever they have roaming in these areas. These findings go into creating a biodiversity profile of the respective villages. The SLC-IT is in the process of analysing all the data that has been collected in the past five years. The results will be published in a local publication sometime next year.

Also, as reported in The Better India, Ladakh has struggled with an explosion of feral dogs, threatening both people and the local wildlife. This is a human-made problem.

“We have realised that spaying and neutering these dogs may help in the short term, but in the long run, unless we manage the wet waste which is being created mostly by tourism and the military, we won’t succeed in managing the problem well. Last year, we developed a biodigester prototype to produce biogas at military camps funded by the United Nations Development Programme under their Secure Himalaya Project. We set up one at a paramilitary camp in Choglamsar area of Leh, housing the unit inside a greenhouse. We showed them that this biogas digester could operate in winters as well,” says Dr Namgail.

But the question is whether the armed forces have the will to assist conservation efforts. In remote areas right alongside the border where the military is camped, there are endangered species like the Wild Yak, Tibetan Antelope, Snow Leopard and Black-Necked Crane under threat from these feral dogs. This is why they must act soon.

Meanwhile, the struggle goes on for the likes of Dr Namgail, who carries forward Rinchen’s legacy. “After all, protecting and conserving the snow leopard in particular and wildlife in general is my life long mission,” he says.

(Edited by Vinayak Hegde)

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There could be a pangolin in the backpack of a person standing right next to you, and you would never know. Unlike other wild animals, these mammals, which are usually about the size of a house cat, have no teeth, and do not squeak, howl, or even attack. Despite having overlapping keratin scales across their bodies, the only defence mechanism of a pangolin is to curl into a ball when it senses danger.

Such vulnerabilities make the shy and nocturnal ant-eating animal the most trafficked animal in the world, putting it on the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) red list of threatened species. The animal has high demand in international markets for its meat, blood, and scales, which are assumed to have medicinal properties. However, very little is known about the Indian pangolin, found across the Himalayan region, predominantly in Odisha.

The state has now become notorious for pangolin smuggling, where traffickers remain in hiding and work quietly from unknown territories. But in 2019, Sasmita Lenka, a divisional forest officer, busted a racket and an active international network involved in the illegal trade.

The 47-year-old officer braved threats to her life to arrest 28 including eight smugglers, and rescued five pangolins, seized one dead one, and recovered five kilos of pangolin scales. She was responsible for all the legal action taken against the smugglers between August 2019 and April 2020 during her stint in the Athagarh and Khunpunni forest range.

Modus operandi

“There was no information on the presence of pangolins in this area, and no action by authorities had been reported with respect to the illegal trade. Not many locals knew about it. Some even thought it was a bird,” Sasmita tells The Better India.

However, she was sure of the existence of the network in the forest area, and deployed informers across the jurisdiction to receive tip-offs on such illegal activities. Within a month, she rescued a pangolin from Kharod village, and began busting other gangs. She says the case revealed the presence of an active network that had not been on the radar, probably for years. Further investigation provided deeper insight into and understanding of the network.

Describing the modus operandi of the traffickers, she says, “An agent or middleman approaches the tribal people in the area, and asks them if they know where pangolins could be found. They sometimes share photos or videos of the animal. A few locals are usually aware of the pangolin’s whereabouts, but don’t know how endangered the species are. All the information is exchanged online. These locals usually pick up the animal for the agent in exchange for a few thousand rupees. When the animal is exchanged between agents across different states, the value increases to lakhs,” she says.

Sasmita says the pangolin travels across the country through sea or land. An adult pangolin can earn upto Rs 10 lakh. Four inches of scale can fetch around Rs 10,000. “The scales are weighed in grams. Imagine what 5 kilos of seizure would cost,” she says.

An incredible feat

Sasmita says she conducted many awareness activities regarding the pangolin, its ecological value, and the threats it faces. “Pangolins are natural pest controllers of the forest, as they thrive on ants, termites and larvae. They burrow into the ground and in the process, help improve the quality of soil,” she says.

To crack down on the gangs, she offered a reward of Rs 10,000 for information about suspects. “Residents across 30 villages reached out with information. The initiative received a huge response, and we took action against several criminals based on this information,” she adds.

While she received plenty of appreciation for her efforts, Sasmita had to face many challenges and threats to her life. “Threats via phone calls became a routine. There were even instances of stone pelting at my residence. Many influential groups and people attempted to put pressure so the work would stop. But I remained undeterred,” she says.

Villagers claim they did not know about any such illegal activities, and are now ready to contribute to the conservation efforts. “A majority of locals were not aware that pangolins exist in the vicinity. Awareness about the animal and strict action taken by Sasmita helped change the people’s mindset and support the pangolin’s conservation,” says Soumya Ranjan Biswal, a conservator from Odisha.

Recently, the United Nations recognised Sasmita’s efforts and felicitated her with the Asia Environment Enforcement Awards 2020 under the ‘gender leadership’ and ‘impact’ category. “I’m glad my hard work was noticed. But the work will only stop once the threat to pangolins is mitigated and the animal is saved from extinction,” Sasmita, who is now posted as deputy conservator of forest in the Bhubaneswar district headquarters, says.

Edited by Divya Sethu

Aaliya Mir, who lives in Srinagar, Jammu & Kashmir, was busy when we called — her phone giving an engaged signal. But we keep trying.

The 42-year-old former Maths teacher is famous on the internet for climbing sketchy ladders in Kashmiri homes to save snakes while wearing sports shoes, salwar kameez and a hijab. There are also pictures of her hand-feeding bears in wildlife enclosures and rescuing leopards in the valley. As you can probably imagine, this was someone we wanted to speak to very keenly.

An hour later, she gets in touch to let us know she is amidst yet another rescue operation. “Another leopard was spotted in the CCTV footage of the Budgam village. We have been there since morning. It is not easy to rescue the animal on the same day. We have been trying to rescue this leopard since last week,” says Aaliya.

Of course, a wild cat will not come when called. So, in the meantime, Aaliya and her team at Wildlife SOS, a non-profit organisation for rehabilitating the wild, conduct awareness sessions with the locals.

Asked the dos and don’ts when spotting a wild animal, and she has a long list to give.

“If a leopard is spotted in the area, pets should be kept inside the house. Children and the elderly should not venture out from dusk to dawn. People should avoid going alone or taking shortcuts through the villages/jungles where there is no traffic or human activities,” cautions the wildlife rescuer.

When it comes to bears, in addition to not taking the shortest route home, the people of the valley are advised to keep their dustbins inside their home. “They’re omnivorous. If there is something edible in your garbage, they will be attracted to human settlements,” she says, adding, “People are advised to keep their surroundings clean so that these animals don’t get a chance to take refuge in piled up garbage, pieces of wood or heaps of leaves.”

People of the valley are also advised to cement their poultry pens and chicken coops. “Ones made of mud will easily be accessed by the wild animal. Livestock should also wear bells around their necks, which acts as an alarm system,” she says.

All this knowledge has come from the experience of being a wildlife rescuer for a decade and a half. “Over the years, I’ve also researched quite a bit about animal behaviour, taken courses on animal rescue and wildlife rehabilitation,” she says.

And rightly so.

In the past three years, she and her team have rescued 2 leopards, 2 turtles, 3 bears, 6 monkeys, 16 raptors and 88 reptiles.

Aaliya has also spent weeks conducting censuses of the wild in Kashmir, such as the Asian water-bird census and the Red Deer census. She also conducts workshops with law enforcement agencies and the local forest departments.

But the former Maths teacher had no idea she would end up rescuing the animals herself.

Furry rescue missions

“In our society, we always think of girls becoming teachers, and that’s what I had aspired to become,” says Aaliya, adding, “I was still in my second year degree college in Delhi in 2002 when I got married. The next year I graduated with my Bachelors in Science and began pursuing my Masters in Maths, while also simultaneously studying for my Bachelors in Education.”

While she was studying hard to become a Maths teacher, life had other plans. She says, “My husband is a veterinarian. When we got married, I got to experience this wonderful world of animals. That’s when I started volunteering for Wildlife SOS in 2002.”

Wildlife SOS began its operations in 1995 and had its presence in Delhi—where Aaliya lived at the time—among other cities.

But what took her to Kashmir was a rather tragic affair.

“In 2007, there was an incident where a bear was stoned in one of the villages in Kashmir. This was very tragic and motivated us to start a project to mitigate the human-animal conflict in Jammu & Kashmir. This was at a time when human-animal conflicts were on the rise,” she recalls, adding that’s when she was made project manager and asked to head operations in J&K.

Today, Wildlife SOS is taking care of six black bears and two brown bears at two of their centres at Dachigam and Pahalgam under the guidance of Aaliya. The bears, among other animals at the reserve, have been rescued from human-wildlife conflict situations. “Sometimes, the mothers of these bears are killed or driven away during these conflicts. If we hadn’t taken them in, the cubs would’ve been eaten up by wild dogs or wolves,” says Aaliya.

Reminiscing about her most challenging rescue, she says, “Last year, a mother bear and her two six-month-old cubs had entered an abandoned house in Pulwama. When with her offspring, mother bears can be very ferocious. That rescue was very challenging because we had to keep them united. We shot the mother with a tranquiliser, but she still managed to run away. We didn’t tranquilise the cubs and rescued them anyway.”

It was dark before the mother bear showed up again. The team had kept the cubs in a two-cage enclosure that closes upon entering. They eventually managed to reunite the bear family and set them free in the wild.

Having volunteered with Wildlife SOS since 2002, Aaliya keeps a record of the kinds of rescue missions she has conducted over the years. But this, she says, is not her biggest feat.

Preaching wildlife awareness in the valley

“People used to swarm the areas where wildlife is spotted in hundreds with lathis (sticks) and kulhadis (axes). They’d drive the animal away by stoning or hitting them,” she says, emphasising that “controlling the mob” has been one of their biggest achievements.

These awareness sessions, she says, are important as they run parallel to the rescues. “We started with education and awareness, capacity building and rescue and rehabilitation of the wild,” she says, adding, “We even reach out to tribesmen in the forests for awareness sessions.”

For instance, not many know there is a compensation policy wherein victims of human-animal conflicts can claim money from the wildlife department for their injuries. “We try to bridge the gap between people, the wildlife department and the government,” she says.

Official statistics cited in a Mongabay-India article state that in just eight years from 2012 to 2020, 44 leopards and 124 black bears have died because of retaliation or natural causes. “In the past 14 years (from 2006 to 2020), as many as 242 people have died, and 3,528 were injured in human-wildlife conflict in Kashmir,” the article notes.

But ignorance is still rampant in the valley. Detailing one such incident, Aaliya says, “During one of the awareness campaigns at a degree college here, a professor accused me of not ‘doing my job’. She said, ‘What are you guys doing? A tiger has come to Lal Chowk!’ She wasn’t aware that we have no tigers in Kashmir, just leopards. This was the limit of ignorance. We have had to educate even the so-called educated here about wildlife.”

And no one is prouder of her work than Aaliya’s ever-supportive husband, Dr Shabir Ahmed, who feels great that he could inspire her to change her vocation. “Aaliya is doing a great job when it comes to wildlife conservation. She’s rescuing animals by conducting workshops and community awareness sessions as well. Sometimes it can be terrifying when she handles wild animals, especially when it comes to bears, leopards and snakes. But I know that she is experienced and she can handle all of this very well. I feel very proud of her work and passion towards animals,” he says.

But at this point, Aaliya is devoid of fear. She enjoys observing the animal kingdom, taking care of vultures, orphaned bear cubs and owls, and even carrying out the most nerve-wracking rescues.

“This Earth doesn’t just belong to humans but animals as well, and we have to learn to live with them,” she signs off.

(Edited by Vinayak Hegde)

In 1995, Geeta Seshamani witnessed a sloth bear bobbing up and down in the middle of the Delhi-Agra highway. “The poor bear was being dragged along by a coarse rope that was threaded through his bleeding and infected muzzle while his ‘owner’ begged money off the tourists,” she says, with anguish in her voice.

The horrific practice of the Dancing Bear—as it was referred to since the bear jumped up and down in pain when their handlers (from the Kalandar community) tugged at the rope—struck a nerve with Geeta. It involved piercing a hot iron rod into the soft muzzle of the bear cub, after which a rope is threaded through it, which is then used to make the bear ‘dance’.

The dancing bear act began around 400 years ago when a nomadic community entered India from Persia and performed tricks to entertain Mughal emperors. Over the centuries, the emperors and kingdoms disappeared, but the ‘dancing’ bear trade remained. This transitioned to cheap street entertainment for tourists. While the practice was made illegal in India in 1972, underground trafficking of the bears still took place.

“I realised this was not just entertainment for tourists but torture and abuse of an endangered wild animal that was being exploited for human greed,” says the co-author of ‘Dancing Bears of India’ and ‘Trade in Bears and Their Parts in India: Threats to Conservation of Bears’.

Since then, Geeta, her old friend Kartick Satyanarayan, and their team at Wildlife SOS have rescued 628 bears. They have rehabilitated the bears and helped provide alternative livelihood options to the Kalandar community — who traditionally captured the bears.

Life At The End of A Rope

The child of a military father, Geeta travelled to many places while growing up. She completed her education at Delhi University and said that she has always been compassionate about animals.

“What I recall as a ‘life-changing incident’ was when I was 20 and saw a dog in pain, after having met with a road accident. The accident had happened right in front of my eyes, and the human responsible had not bothered to glance back. I immediately leapt out of the car, picked the dog up, and took it to the side of the road. Unfortunately, the injuries were fatal, and the dog passed away on my lap,” the 70-year-old laments.

This incident compelled her to become a voice for the voiceless and create an institution that would help such animals in distress. “In 1979, I met a group of school children who were part of a ‘kindness club’ led by Anuradha Modi. Friendicoes SECA (Society for the Eradication of Cruelty to Animals) is one of the oldest animal shelters in Delhi-NCR,” says Geeta who is now the Vice President of the organisation.

Later, in 1995, she and Kartick established Wildlife SOS that runs several projects to support wildlife conservation in India.

In an earlier interview with The Better India, Kartick also admitted to finding his calling early on when he saw large-scale poaching of wildlife and habitat destruction was doing irreversible damage to ecosystems.

After witnessing the bear in 1995, Geeta went with a filmmaker to a village of the Kalandar community, just 30 km outside Delhi, to find a horrifying reality.

“The bears were tied to sticks and Tikar ka ped. They were lying in dirty conditions with swarms of flies around them. And that night that I stayed with them was a life-changing experience. I saw the poverty of the people. The children were pot-bellied. Every household had only five or six vessels and two sets of clothes – if they were lucky. They had bears, owls and monkeys, who were in such bad shape. I was taken aback that so close to Delhi, where we are steeped in privilege, lies this village in abject poverty,” she says.

Geeta and Kartick eventually investigated the illegal practice of dancing sloth bears from 1995 to 1997. They stayed in over 60 villages across five states — Bihar, Odisha, Karnataka, Haryana and Rajasthan.

“We realised right at the very beginning that if we wanted to help implement India’s wildlife laws to eradicate the illegal and brutal practice of dancing bears, we had to work with the nomadic community that depended on the bears for a livelihood,” says Delhi-based Geeta.

Geeta adds, “Kartick and I travelled for months to remote parts of India, stayed in tents and on railway platforms to gather intelligence. The dancing bear practice was being handed down from generation to generation, thereby preventing youngsters from accessing education. We wanted to ensure a bright future for younger generations while ensuring sustainable protection of the bears.”

The duo’s report was published in 1997 and submitted to the government of India, which got them their support and cooperation. It also helped them establish the world’s largest rehabilitation centre for sloth bears in Agra in 2002.

“The first of the bears started coming in on Christmas Eve in 2002. That was a beautiful blessing. Interestingly enough, our last bear also came in on Christmas Eve in 2009,” Geeta says.

In 2009, the final curtain was drawn on the centuries-old practice in the country, and Wildlife SOS successfully rescued and rehabilitated 628 sloth bears from this cruel industry.

However, a lot of the bears were already infected with tuberculosis. “The Kalandars had tuberculosis, and hepatitis was endemic in the community, and the bears would live with them in their huts. About 50% of the bears were lost due to these diseases. But today, all of the bears in our enclosures are almost 20 years old, with a few turning 30 and 32,” says Geeta, who continues her work to resolve man-animal conflicts.

Helping The Kalandars

To protect the indigenous sloth bear population, efforts had to be made at different tiers. An alternate means of livelihood confirmed uprooting the practice effectively.

At first, the Kalandar community felt threatened by the Wildlife SOS team, who they thought were attempting to take away their only means of survival.

“In the beginning, they couldn’t understand why we wanted to help them, and it took us many years to earn their trust. Whatever little Kartick and my salaries permitted, we used to take small things like helping them with rice or atta. If a village needed water or a tubewell, we’d help them with that. We even helped them make ad hoc temporary toilets, which were essential for the women. Over time they realised that we wanted to help provide a more sustainable solution for their families,” she says, adding that funding from donors and international organisations came only after 2002.

Slowly, the community began to adopt alternate methods of livelihood.

“There was a very old man who took the funds to buy himself a Genset which he would lease out at weddings or events. Highway stalls of boiled eggs and omelette stations and other food items, juice stalls, fruit and vegetable carts were set up. The women were empowered with many skills, seed funds for their small businesses like sewing, block printing. They always did better than the men in accepting this change and turning their investments into profits,” says Geeta, who also helped set up a driving school for the youngsters who learnt how to drive auto-rickshaws.

Along with providing alternative livelihoods for the community, Wildlife SOS has designed and carried out several initiatives to empower the women of the community in Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh, Haryana and Uttar Pradesh.

Geeta adds, “We wanted to wean them off child marriage practices. We asked them how much they spent on marriages, and it was maybe Rs 6,000 to 8,000 at the time. We then assured them that we would pay for the girl’s lehenga and kitchen vessels only if they waited till their daughters were 18 before marrying them off. They agreed.”

Even today, the organisation has to approve 100-200 seed funds and marriage funds every year.

Banks were another foreign concept for the community, which had a low ratio of students completing their education. “In many villages, if the child has cleared his class 8, they can avail of loans from the block officer. So we put them in touch with the authorities, which made them more willing to study. We even pay for everything from the satchel to the sweater to their pens, books and fees on the condition that they educate the girl child too,” says Geeta.

Over 3,000 families have benefited from the initiatives by Wildlife SOS, and over 7,600 children access education which helped change the future for the community.

The Return of Elvis

Wildlife SOS rehabilitated all 628 sloth bears in four large natural sanctuaries across India. Wildlife SOS operates these centres in collaboration with the State Forest Department. They were also able to stop the poaching of the bear cubs from the forests successfully.

But even today, there is a community across the border in Nepal that still indulges in the dancing bear practice. During some festivals, they cross the border and come into some states.

In 2015, the Wildlife SOS anti-poaching unit, ‘Forest Watch’, gathered intelligence about a gang of poachers who had a bear cub in a remote village on the Indo-Nepal border area.

“We liaised with the Forest Department and local police to launch a joint operation to rescue the cub, who was later named Elvis,” says Geeta, who adds that the King of Rock and Roll was her ‘heartthrob’ growing up.

Elvis was poached from the wild as a cub of barely 6-8 weeks old and was in the process of being smuggled across the international border. His delicate muzzle was already pierced with a red hot iron poker.

“Unfortunately, the poachers had already received word of the raid and had fled the scene before the Forest Department and our team could intercept them. We found Elvis chained to a tree, whimpering softly and scared of being left alone in a half-starved condition,” she says, adding, “Elvis has been hand-reared by our staff and caregivers since then. We can’t release him back into the wild. As he was snatched away from his mother at such a young age, he never had the chance to learn the basic skills of surviving in the wild.”

“Today, it fills my heart with joy to see Elvis, who is almost five years old, living a healthy and safe life in the company of other bears at the Agra Bear Rescue Facility,” says Geeta.

The septuagenarian describes her journey as a ‘roller coaster ride’ and is still not ready to throw in the towel when it comes to conservation. “I am aware that there is still plenty more to come, and I feel incredibly fortunate to have experienced so much, connected with so many lives and been able to make a difference, no matter how small it may seem,” she signs off.

(Edited by Vinayak Hegde)

On a Wednesday afternoon, Anil Shou (31), a resident of Budhnagar, Rajasthan, received a distress call from his mother who was working on their farm.

“A Chinkara [Gazelle] that was roaming around our farm was attacked by a bunch of stray dogs. My mother quickly got into action and chased away the dogs. But, the chinkara was bitten on its hind legs and was unable to move. So we made a phone call to Farsa Ram Bishoi, a well-known wildlife conservation worker in our village,” says Anil.

Born and raised in Budh Nagar, 25-year-old Farsa Ram Bishnoi cannot hear or speak. However, he acts as the voice for all the wildlife around him.

Not only does he provide them with food and shelter but also gives them first aid, if they are injured, and even takes them to the veterinarian, if necessary.

Now, this hero from a small town has become an internet sensation after Indian Forest Service officer Ramesh Pandey shared a video of him on Twitter.

In the video, Farsa Ram is seen racing out of the farmland, carrying the injured Gazelle on his shoulders.

We conserve wildlife for the purpose of conservation in our country. It’s not a fashion. Communities like Bishnoi in Rajasthan have given lives to save animals.
VC: Anon #wildlife #conservation pic.twitter.com/KEkfshim2P

— Ramesh Pandey (@rameshpandeyifs) July 1, 2021

When Anil heard about the injured Gazelle, his first action was to video call Farsa Ram and show him what had happened. Then he shared the location with him and within 10 minutes, Ram reached the location.

“Usually, I would call the forest officials to the spot so that we can transport the injured animal to the nearest town where the veterinary clinic is situated. However, this Gazelle was hurt in the middle of the farmland where vehicles cannot enter. So, I swept up the animal and carried it on my shoulders till the road,” says Ram.

During this time, the Gazelle remained calm. Ram believes that the animal understood that the humans were trying to help it.

“This is not something that only I do, there are many people in my community who spend all their lives taking care of animals. I grew up seeing them and being inspired by them,” says Ram.

After IFS officer Ramesh Pandey shared the video, it was reshared over 1,000 times and has over 4,500 likes. After he shared the video, several people from the Bishnoi community expressed their joy to see their community and youth being recognised.

Ramesh says, “I am glad to bring this story of conservation to light and give the real hero his deserved recognition. With the efforts of youngsters like Ram, collectively we can protect nature.”

Edited by Yoshita Rao

Earlier this week, 56-year-old Karma Sonam, a field manager with the Nature Conservation Foundation (NCF) in Ladakh, received the Natwest Group Earth Heroes Inspire Award 2021. Karma received the award for his outstanding work in reducing human-wildlife conflict in 17 communities across eastern Ladakh and creating awareness about the importance of environmental protection. Working in close coordination with agro pastoralist communities, he has helped protect endangered wildlife species like the elusive snow leopard, Himalayan wolf, Tibetan gazelle, bharal (blue sheep) and the Tibetan argali, among others.

His focus, however, has largely been on the snow leopard and the Himalayan wolf. Leveraging a system of community-based conservation, he has helped implement fascinating initiatives like self-sustaining insurance schemes for pastoralists who lose their livestock to predators, creation of grazing-free reserves for herbivores like the Tibetan gazelle that are prey for snow leopards and converting Shandongs (traditional wolf traps) into holy Buddhist sites.

Khenrab Phuntsog, a wildlife guard with the Wildlife Protection Department in Leh district, talks about why Karma deserves this recognition.

“There is no doubt that Kaga (elder brother in Ladakhi) Karma deserves this award for the effort and dedication he has put into wildlife conservation in Ladakh for the last 15 years. He has the ability of establishing close relationships with different communities and convincing them to work for wildlife conservation. For decades our pastoralists have had a difficult relationship with predators like snow leopards and wolves who prey on their livestock. Take the example of his work converting Shangdongs (wolf traps) into stupas (or chortens which are mound-like shrines). It’s an ingenious way of ensuring no one from their community kills another wolf in it given how genuinely these people take their Buddhist faith,” says Khenrab.

Violence Before Repentance

Born and raised in Rumste, a hamlet that lies about 78 km from Leh and forms a part of the larger Gya village, Karma grew up in a family of agro-pastoralists.

“As a child, I would climb up on horses along with my uncles to the pastures above our hamlet and collect manure from our livestock grazing there. At the time, my family had about 250 animals as part of our livestock. All our earnings were dependent on them. On one such sortie with my father as a 10-year-old, I remember heading to a pasture land about 7 km from our hamlet, where we came across a Shangdong or traditional wolf trap and a crowd of herders that had gathered around it. A Shangdong is a conical stone structure, where a live bait like sheep or goat is kept to lure a wolf inside. Once inside the protruding walls of this particular structure, which slants upwards, the wolf cannot get out and remains trapped,” says Karma.

When Karma and his father got up to the Shangdong uphill, they saw a small black-coated wolf trapped inside and the group of herders stoning it. “My father and I joined in to stone the trapped wolf until it died. At the time, we knew little of conservation, and were mindlessly reacting to the danger it posed to our livestock. It was only much later in life that I realised the sin that was being committed here. For the past 15 years, I’ve spent time atoning for it by working with these same communities to protect these wolves,” he adds.

Finding His Way to Atonement

“In 2006, we started a community-based insurance scheme to help local pastoralists make up for some of the losses they suffer when their livestock gets eaten by predators. In Ladakh, we started this scheme in the village of Gya,” notes Karma. It’s imperative to note that the NCF had started this livestock insurance scheme in the Spiti Trans-Himalaya region back in 2002.

As the NCF notes: “In the Spiti Trans-Himalaya, our ecological research had established that intensive livestock grazing had out-competed wild herbivores from the rangelands, and this in turn had presumably intensified the levels of livestock predation by the snow leopard (Panthera uncia) and the wolf (Canis lupus). We studied this human-wildlife conflict in detail, and found that the consequent economic losses suffered by people were considerable, and their resentment occasionally led to persecution of these endangered carnivores. In 2002, as part of their larger conservation programme, the NCF set up a livestock insurance program in Kibber Village in the Spiti region of Himachal Pradesh that was designed to share and offset the economic losses that local people were facing due to livestock predation by wild carnivores.”

So, how does this insurance scheme work in Ladakh? Village residents first appoint a committee of three to six executive members. The committee’s job is to determine how to set the monthly premium each household has to pay and how they collect that amount. Take the example of Gya village, where NCF started their scheme in Ladakh in 2006.

“In Gya, residents and the village committee chose the horse as the most important part of their livestock on which they would pay an insurance premium. Residents felt this was a very useful animal for ploughing on the field, collecting manure from grazing fields and transport, although they’re less used today given the arrival of pickup trucks and SUVs. Losing horses to predators like wolves and snow leopards was causing extensive financial loss for residents,” says Karma.

The committee initially set a premium of Rs 25 per month per horse. At the community level, they insured more than 100 horses, which members of the executive committee would collect from residents. If a resident lost their horse to a snow leopard or wolf, the concerned person would get Rs 7,000 as compensation, an amount set by the committee. Over the course of a year, if the committee collected a corpus of say Rs 50,000 from all the premiums paid by residents, the NCF would add a further Rs 60,000 to create a total corpus of over Rs 1 lakh.

This amount is deposited in a joint bank account of two executive members, who keep a detailed account of how many horses were lost in a given year, how much compensation each resident received, etc. For the first five years, NCF contributes about 60% of the total corpus with the other 40% coming from the premiums residents are paying.

After five years, if their community insurance programme has a sizable corpus, the village runs the scheme independently. If in a given year, the village suffers a high mortality of horses due to sickness or loss to predators in the wild, the NCF steps in for monetary support on occasions.

“After we ran this insurance scheme successfully for five years in Gya, we started a similar version of it in Hemya and Miru. In Hemya, residents chose Yak as their choice of animal on which they would run their community-based insurance scheme. The premium on Yak was kept at Rs 50 per month, and total compensation in the event of a loss was set at Rs 8,000 per Yak, by the village committee itself,” he says.

In villages like Samad Rupshow in the Changthang region, their committee has set a monthly premium of Rs 200 per horse per month and a total compensation in the event of a loss at Rs 15,000 per horse. But if mortality rates are high, the committee can decide to lessen the premium amounts each resident has to pay. Today, the scheme runs independently in Gya, while it’s in motion across other villages like Miru, Kungyam, Hemya and Rupsho.

Faith For Conservation

Another key element of NCF’s community-based conservation effort is converting Shangdongs to stupas to provide escape routes for trapped animals. The process begins with consulting the goba (village headman), village youth groups, women’s groups, representatives of the herding community and government officials.

“The first construction of a stupa near a Shangdong was initiated in the Chushul village of Ladakh in 2018. Here, we dismantled four shangdongs and constructed one stupa. A Shangdong is dismantled by removing just a few stones from the structure, which creates an escape route for any trapped animals. In doing this, the original architectural structure is preserved, honoring the tradition of these pastoral communities. Building a stupa near the dismantled Shangdong integrates Buddhist principles of compassion toward all living beings. The message is to strengthen the traditional link between culture, livelihood, and conservation,” writes Karma Sonam in a June 2020 column for the Snow Leopard Trust.

A religious ceremony follows this construction, wherein the stupa is consecrated by the Rinpoche (an honorific given to spiritual masters held in high regard by Tibetan Buddhists). In 2019, a similar initiative was organised near his hamlet of Rumste, which included one of the Shangdongs where he stoned a trapped wolf as a child.

“His Eminence Rangdol Nyima Rinpoche and His Eminence Drukpa Thuksey Rinpoche suggested that we build a Changchup Chorten, which symbolises the Buddha’s enlightenment, near the dismantled Shangdongs. Leveraging their reputation and the principles of Buddhism helped us significantly in relaying the message of conservation to locals. We appealed to their religious sentiments to drive home the message of conservation. People in Chushul dismantled four Shangdongs and the residents of Gya-Miru dismantled two to construct and consecrate one Stupa each for a future of compassion and coexistence,” says Karma to The Better India.

NCF is currently conducting a survey of all Shangdongs in Ladakh and so far have found over a 100 of them. They have created a digital map locating where these structures are currently.

“As a child I committed a sin in stoning a wolf to death in a Shangdong but as an older man, I now have the opportunity to conserve these animals. In September 2021, we converted our third Shandong to a Stupa in Hemya village. Our objective is to neutralise all of them,” he adds.

Grazing Free & The Future

Working with these communities, NCF has converted hundreds of hectares of community-owned range land into grazing-free reserves where herdsmen are not allowed to bring their livestock. After NCF holds discussions with the villagers, the latter nominates a committee of residents to oversee the implementation, following which an agreement is signed between both parties about the area free of livestock grazing and human use for five years.

In Changthang, when herdsmen over-graze the land with their livestock, the quality of pasture land declines. This becomes a problem for the wildlife dependent on the flora, and the predators, whose survival is incumbent on ensuring they are fed well. The NCF started this in Ladakh in 2007 near Hanle, where there was a small population of the Tibetan Gazelle.

“Their habitat saw increasing amounts of overgrazing. In close consultation with local herders, we ask them not to take their livestock to graze there for five years and offer them incentives to follow through. After five years lapse, we extend that period, depending on the agreement reached with the herder community. Of course, it was not easy to convince them to let go of grazing land for five years or more. In Hanle, for example, we would send Rs 50,000 annually into their community account to buy fodder for the first few years. Similarly, for the herder community in Gya, who complained of a lack of lighting in their Rebos (nomadic tents), we set up solar lighting for them. Every community has their own needs, and to ensure they don’t graze on a particular parcel of land, we fulfill whatever they desire in exchange,” explains Karma.

His approach works because NCF has been regularly meeting with these communities since 2006. After starting with Hanle, the NCF team proceeded to Gya, Miru, Hemya and Chushul as well. So far, they have created five grazing-free reserves. Meanwhile, they have also built about 65 predator-proof corrals in the Rong Valley, Gya-Miru and Changthang areas, besides running conservation education programs in government and private schools for school children with the help of the Himalayan Nature Club and its members for the past 15 years.

“Only those who possess a deep and abiding love for nature can continue to work relentlessly like he has, given how challenging conservation work is on the ground. We have worked together for many years and I know the kind of difficulties and obstacles he has faced. It’s unfortunate that not enough people know about the amazing work he has done,” says Khenrab.

For Karma, however, it’s pretty basic. “Our aim is that the community’s livelihood should stay sustainable and that humans and wildlife should co-exist,” he says.

(Edited by Yoshita Rao)

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Anil Bishnoi was about to call it a night when he received a call from his village informer in Rajasthan’s Hanumangarh to save a blackbuck. So, in 14℃ weather, he raced to the spot, driving for 30 kilometres on pitch dark roads.

By the time he reached, the antilope cervicapra had been shot dead and prepared into a delicacy. Anil then handed over the perpetrator to the police, and was subsequently sentenced for six years for killing the endangered animal. Anil had filed a case under the Schedule I of the Wildlife Act, 1972.

The incident got a lot of attention from the regional media and also sent a stern warning to the poachers in the region.

“He wanted to impress his son-in-law with this meat dish and there was no remorse when he confessed,” Anil, a farmer and activist, tells The Better India.

“I have come across several poachers who believe it is okay to kill animals for entertainment purposes. It is because of such people that I decided to initiate a mission to protect these animals in Hanumangarh and Sriganganagar in 1990,” he adds.

The 48-year-old belongs to the Bishnoi community who consider blackbucks sacred and a reincarnation of their Guru Bhagwan Jambeshwar. The community has been known to make sacrifices to protect the trees and animals. They believe that every living creature has the right to live peacefully.

“We will never tolerate any harm to blackbucks. With a life span of 10-15 years, they are nervous and shy by nature. They inhabit jungles, farms and scrubland,” adds Anil.

A recipient of Dalmia Water Environment Protection Award and state-level Amrita Devi Environmental Protection Award, Anil’s brilliant efforts have been recognised and lauded multiple times by the Rajasthan government. He has been accorded with the status of Honorary Wildlife Warden.

Anil, who once wanted to get into the teaching profession, shares how he has been keeping more than 10,000 chinkara and blackbucks protected across 60 panchayats while tackling death threats.

‘Threats Won’t Stop Me’

Growing up in the 80s, Anil noted the deaths of two to three blackbucks almost every day in his district. While he was angry and sad, there was nothing he could do.

It was during his college days that he finally got a chance to make a difference.
“In 1990, I was studying in a Suratgarh college. One day, our community had organised a conference to spread awareness on deforestation and killing of the wildlife. This made me rethink my life’s philosophy and had a deep impact on my mind. The highlight was the case studies of people who had been saving blackbucks for decades,” recalls Anil.

After finishing his B Ed and BA, Anil returned to his village called Lakhasar and took up farming of pulses and grains on his ancestral land.

There were multiple reasons behind the blackbuck fatalities such as dog bites, extreme climates and road accidents. Hunting was the most pressing issue so Anil began a campaign to stop poachers.

But for a 20-something boy to catch hold of experienced poachers was not easy.

He mobilised villagers to alert him every time there was a hunting possibility. From stopping the poachers to registering cases against them, Anil did everything. His mission soon got attention from nearby villages and the poaching-related calls increased.

In one of his earlier cases, the hunter had killed five blackbucks for their meat. As he tried to stall the hunter till the forest officials and local police arrived on the spot, the hunter pointed a gun to his head.

“I was scared but it was necessary to risk my life, if it meant saving the species. Thankfully, the team arrived and he was arrested. I have caught 300 poachers red handed so far and put several of them in jail,” says Anil.

Anil visits courts as a witness and follows up with the cases till the punishment is given. At times, he even organises peaceful rallies to sensitise people to the issue. He works with a team of 3,000 people across 12 districts of Rajasthan.

Karan Singh Kajla, Deputy Conservator of Forests, Hanumangarh, says, “Anil ji’s work is commendable. I have not seen another person doing such a selfless job of saving lives in the area. Anil has made saving wildlife his life’s goal. Whatever they do, they do it from the heart. The forest department is grateful for his and his team’s services.”

‘They Are Like My Children’

Apart from preventing poachers, Anil also looks after the well-being of blackbucks and chinkaras.

He looks after the injured animals and gives them first-aid either at home or at the forest department’s medical centre.

“In case of roadside or shooting injuries, they take a few weeks to heal and during this time it is important to give them love and care. Hunters often kill the mother and then the children are left alone, who may fall prey to the wild dogs. We rescue and look after them till they are ready to go back to the forest. If they die, then we organise their funerals, too,” says Anil.

Another major issue that Anil and his team face is the water scarcity during summers. Insufficient drinking water can be fatal for wildlife. So, he raised Rs 2,00,000 among the villagers to build 66 ponds in 2017.

“We got a lot of support from people who were kind enough to give us construction materials for free — even masons did not charge anything. In case of scanty rainfall, we spend money to get water from tankers. Fortunately, for the last two years we have received a good amount of rainfall,” says Anil.

Ramswaroop Manjhu, National President of All India Bishnoi Mahasabha, says, “Anil has been engaged in the work of saving wildlife for many years. He contributes to protecting the environment and wildlife with the spirit of service. His work is nothing short of exemplary.”

Initially, Anil’s family was skeptical about his work given the risks, but now his children, wife, brother and sister-in-law are the first ones to provide first-aid to the injured blackbucks and chinkaras. During lockdown too the family looked after the deer.

Given that most villages have a blackbuck population of more than 100, Anil has been trying to set up a community reserve for them since 2000. Until he gets one, he says that he will continue to provide his services.

(Edited by Yoshita Rao)

In late October this year, Arunima Singh was conferred with the NatWest Group Earth Heroes Save the Species Award 2021 for her exemplary grassroots conservation efforts to safeguard north Indian freshwater turtles and tortoises, crocodilians and Gangetic river dolphins.

Since 2013, Arunima, a resident of Lucknow and staff of the Turtle Survival Alliance (TSA) – India, has used various initiatives to further the cause of conservation — from educating over 50,000 children from rural and urban communities about conserving freshwater reptiles through formal and informal means in Uttar Pradesh, to assisting with rescue, rehabilitation and release of over 28,000 turtles, 25 Gangetic dolphins, 6 marsh crocodiles and 4 gharials in the last 8 years.

In a conversation with The Better India, she recalls, “As a child I would often visit the river with my grandparents to watch and observe aquatic life. I guess without really knowing it, my passion for conservation came from the imprint those visits left in my mind. These visits growing up would help create a sense of belonging within me and establish a close connection with aquatic life.”

Over the years, Arunima’s efforts have led to many changes.

Through the joint Uttar Pradesh Forest Department and TSA India Program for Aquatic Biology, she was instrumental in establishing assurance colonies for more than 10 species of turtles and most of which are critically endangered. Her efforts further bolstered rear and release programmes for certain imperiled turtle species such as Indian Narrow-headed Softshell Turtle (Chitra indica).

Moreover she helped sensitise and built capacities of hundreds of frontline forest department staff and veterinarians. Her research has facilitated understanding the breeding of a few elusive species. If this wasn’t enough, she has also been on the frontline of operationalising on-site care for tens of thousands of turtles rescued from clandestine trade.

As Dr Shailendra Singh, the Director of TSA India Program, said upon receiving news of the award, “Arunima has been one of the most remarkable conservationists in the country, single-handedly attending to several wildlife distress calls. Her research on elusive freshwater turtle species, the Crowned River Turtle (Hardella thurjii), has provided watershed moments for scientific turtle conservation communities and aids our organization in the development of species-specific conservation strategies.”

But it was a visit to the Kukrail Gharial Rehabilitation Center (KGRC) at the start of her Master’s course in Life Science from Lucknow University in 2010 that set her on the path of conservation.

“Dr. Shailendra gave me an insight into how I could be involved with wildlife conservation in the long term and gave me opportunities to obtain a greater understanding of it in areas like the Chambal Valley. In 2011, I began doing some volunteering work with the TSA and enrolled in a small awareness and educational programme at Lucknow University for wildlife conservation. Upon completing my Master’s degree, I got involved full time in conservation work of endangered freshwater turtles, tortoises and other aquatic species. At present, I’m also pursuing a PhD focussing on freshwater turtles,” she says.

Assurance Colonies

As an intern joining the TSA in late 2013, her vision was to develop assurance colonies for all Indian turtle species under one roof. She had even obtained a small grant to work on this idea.

But what are these assurance colonies?

According to this explainer in Reptiles Cove, “Assurance colonies is a word that refers to a group of critically endangered or threatened animals in captivity. Assurance colonies are used to create various conservation programs together with breeding groups to ensure that these animals will not become extinct. In the wild, these animals have very low chances of survival, and they may only do so in an assurance colony.”

While building these assurance colonies to start with, the TSA-India programme started looking for a more in-situ approach in the selected tributaries of Ganges to safeguard turtle population.

“The first winter is crucial for the survival of newly emerged hatchlings of Chitra. Rearing them is very difficult because they stop eating. When the baby hatches, it’s imperative that it is given the necessary nourishment for survival and growth. Our project team would get eggs from the wild, and hatch here at the captive centre, but there was no full-time team there to oversee this process. When I started with TSA, the whole idea was that apart from the Chitra species, there were other freshwater turtle species with no husbandry and breeding information available. We began significantly expanding our research on other species,” Arunima explains.

She notes, “See, you can’t bring turtles from the wild, simply start a breeding programme and keep them to develop assurance colonies. Also, for any species endangered or critically endangered, there should be two or three assurance colonies for them.”

Turtle eggs are translocated to an assurance colony like at the KGRC from vulnerable nests along rivers like the Yamuna and Ghaghra. There, they are incubated safely and naturally in a sand hatchery, growing in habitats featuring solar-powered warm, running water, and fed live fish fingerlings. After being head started to a size around 1,000 gms, most juveniles are released into rivers where governments are carrying out a rejuvenation initiative. The objective of releasing these turtles back into their natural habitats will help the wild population rebound there.

Today, for species like the Red-crowned Roofed Turtle (Batagur kachuga), TSA helped create three assurance colonies including the KGRC, Lucknow and the Kanpur Zoo.

“Thus far, we have developed assurance colonies for more than 10 endangered and critically endangered species of freshwater turtles. B. kachuga is completely extinct from the Ganges and other rivers, but only survives in the Chambal. We are working on a re-introduction programme for these species in the Ganga. For species such as Chitra, we have got some rescued animals and are preparing more ground for their breeding,” she adds.

Triage Centre for Turtles

But when Arunima started working towards building assurance colonies, she also started getting more calls from the enforcement agencies about endangered species of turtles rescued and confiscated from smugglers, who would earlier simply release them back into the wild. There were no such centres to first rehabilitate these confiscated turtles.

“The first consignment we helped rehabilitate was around 300 spotted pond turtles (Geoclemys hamiltonii) near Etawah and Mainpuri in 2015. We brought them to the KGRC and cared for them for 60 days before releasing them back into the wild. However, at the time, these turtles, particularly soft-shelled ones, suffered from high mortality because of the uncaring way in which they were translocated by the poachers,” she says.

In the same year, they received another consignment of 500 smuggled Indian Tent Turtles (Pangshura tentoria circumdata) and Indian Roofed Turtles (Pangshura tecta) at the KGRC. It was during this operation, they met with Arvind Chaturvedi, a police officer with the Uttar Pradesh Special Task Force (STF) and a man Arunima describes as “very committed to wildlife conservation” as well, who helped confiscate this consignment.

The TSA gathers information on the field about endangered species being smuggled and relays that information to the police or the forest department. Couple of years later, there was another conversation Arunima and her team at TSA had with Chaturvedi, following which his STF team confiscated around a record 6,400 turtles in Amethi and nabbed the kingpin of an inter-state gang involved in smuggling of reptiles in 2017.

“At the time, I was heading the Rescue and Rehabilitation for TSA, giving shelter and treatment to turtles and then releasing them back into the wild. Treating the 6,000-odd turtles individually was difficult, but our team took care of each and every turtle like removing the hooks inside the mouth, etc. Unfortunately, we could not treat them for a prolonged period of time because we didn’t have the necessary facilities for 6,000-odd turtles at once. But we did build a small and temporary facility at Amethi, and released the animals back into the wild,” she says.

Arunima says this event was an eye opener in terms of understanding the scale of smuggling taking place and building a triage centre. From here on, the TSA began offering training to personnel of the forest department, police, and local communities across UP where consignments of these turtles were confiscated on how to approach rescue and rehabilitation.

“Since 2017, we’ve helped rescue and rehabilitate thousands of turtles every year, giving them care and releasing them back into the wild. Before our intervention, there was no rescue and rehabilitation centre for freshwater turtles in UP. There was no management plan in terms of what to do with these rescued turtles, and there was a lack of enforcement and awareness as well,” she adds.

What Can We Do?

Freshwater turtle species are smuggled for three primary reasons:

1) Food: In states like West Bengal, soft-shelled turtles are a delicacy, particularly during festivals like Durga Puja. Recently, a consignment of soft shells heading to Kolkata was confiscated by the authorities in Uttar Pradesh.

2) Medicinal Purposes: Some of these freshwater species are translocated to South-East Asia and China via Bangladesh to make traditional medicine. “For medicinal purposes, poachers often take out the calipee of big soft shelled turtles, boil it, dry it, and then package them as chips which makes it difficult for enforcement agencies to detect what’s happening. In 2019, we helped confiscate about 2-3 quintals of calipee,” says Arunima.

3) Pet trade: Given their peaceful demeanour and beautiful shells, some of these freshwater turtles are highly sought after pets, including in India.

“About a month ago, we repatriated a bunch of turtles from Hyderabad to Lucknow. The poachers were taking these turtles from the Gomti River and selling them in Hyderabad to pet shops there. The Indian tent turtles (Pangshura tentoria) are hardshell. The males are generally three to four times smaller than females. Poachers translocate the males to private aquariums since they won’t grow beyond a certain height. There are often organised gangs behind such smuggling organisations,” she adds.

How do you address these issues?

Starting out, Arunima believes that governments and NGOs working on the ground must coordinate their efforts better to help on-ground smugglers involved in poaching and translocating these turtles and finding out alternative means of improved livelihood opportunities as these on-ground smugglers often come from impoverished backgrounds.

Also, she believes enforcement organisations have to do a better job of recognising where the demand for endangered freshwater turtle species come from and understand how this business works.

“We probably need stronger laws as well, since smugglers who are arrested often get bail within a month, and go back to business. Education and awareness are also very important. We must sensitise the general public into not keeping turtles as pets. The Olive Ridley turtles are famous because of the great work NGOs and governments have done together in protecting them. There is a lack of awareness about freshwater turtles. We must get common citizens more involved in the conservation programmes like they have done with Olive Ridleys,” she says.

(Edited by Divya Sethu)

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In Tamil Nadu’s Pudupalayam village, a 50-acre farm has something unique to offer — if you visit, you might be greeted by a flock of deer, alongside the usual goats and cows.

For the past 20 years, the deer have made this farm their home and have peacefully coexisted with domesticated animals.

Given that apart from some peacocks for company, there is no other wildlife or even a forest nearby, how did this happen?

This is, in part, due to the efforts of R Gurusamy, who gave up his farmland to create a safe habitat and protect wildlife.

Speaking with The Better India, Gurusamy recalls his first encounter with the deer and how he helped increase the population from just three to hundreds.

An act of compassion

“One day in 1998, I saw three spotted deer grazing on grass, alongside my goats. I was amused by the sight, as the deer followed the cattle to feed on grass. To my surprise, they never really left, and instead became a frequent visitor,” he says.

Gurusamy believes that the deer ventured into his territory from the neighbouring Mettupalayam Forest of Western Ghats for water and food. “The region has been experiencing drought conditions and shortage of rainfall for the past 25 years. River Khousikha used to have water for most of the year, but now runs dry. The groundwater table has also decreased owing to overexploitation of the water for irrigation. The deer must have faced the brunt of this,” he explains.

The 70-year-old says, “I have 60 acres of ancestral land, and during those days, practised organic farming over 15 acres of land growing corn, cotton and seasonal vegetables. I dedicated the 45 acres of land for my 100 cows and goats to graze and grow indigenous plants. I use the cow dung from the cattle for making organic fertiliser.”

Gurusamy says the open land with greenery became a safe habitat with assured food for the deer. “The deer made the land home. I eventually limited my farming area to 10 acres and gave away 50 acres for animals,” he says.

He says he felt compassion towards the deer and did not want to harm them or shoo them away. “I had seen some instances of dogs attacking the deer, and I wanted to protect the wildlife. I realised that my farmland would keep the deer safe, away from outside threats,” he explains.

The farmer says that of the three deer, one was male, and the remaining were female. As the animals started breeding, not everyone was kind enough to sympathise with the wild animals.

“The deer population grew over the years, and no one knew about them until 2005. The numbers had increased to the extent that the deer started reaching nearby farms and often damaging the crops in the process. Other farmers felt threatened. Our village and neighbouring districts had a rainfall deficit around the mid-2000s. The deer walked into other farms to access water in their ponds and feed on the crops. Some complained to the forest department and district administration officials,” he says.

Soon, a local newspaper journalist found out about the ordeal, he wrote about the increasing wildlife in the area. Taking cue from the news article, urban dwellers started visiting the place to see the deer, Gurusamy says.

But Gurusamy has no complaints and understands the reason why farmers considered the deer a menace. “They already suffered from a shortage of water, and the production of crops was declining. The damage by the deer added to their losses and was not acceptable to them. Some adopted dogs to chase the deer away,” he says.

However, chasing away deer often scared them, and the wild animals ran helter-skelter, and some became victims to road accidents. The deer population also attracted poachers who started hunting them for meat and trade.

Gurusamy says that he tried to convince the farmers, but in vain. “They all went against me and reported it to the collector. I am struggling to create awareness and change their perception towards the animal to date. It is only my friend C Balasundaram who has always supported my cause. He allowed deer to wander in his coconut grove spread across several acres,” he says.

Balasundram also helped Gurusamy catch two teams of poachers in 2008 and 2010. “We reported the issue to the forest department and have received constant support from the officials. They have promised us 24/7 assistance. To prevent the deer from venturing outside, I built a couple of ponds on the farm. The officials from the forest department fill the water during peak summer months,” he says.

Senthil Kumar, Range Forest Officer, Tirupur, says, “The population of deer has increased tremendously over the past two decades. According to a census conducted in August 2021, the deer population stands around 1,800.”

Senthil says the department assists Gurusamy in protecting the deer and understand their needs. “There is round the clock patrolling by forest guards to control poaching and illegal activities that may threaten the population,” he adds.

A hunt for a safer place

Gradually, some NGOs and environmentalists also started showing support to Gurusamy and his cause.

K Ravindran, an environmentalist and president of the Nature Society of Tirupur, an NGO, says, “I have been following Gurusamy’s work since 2010, and his work is commendable in protecting and increasing the deer population. However, deer is a herbivorous species, and there are no carnivores to keep a tab on the grazing population in the surroundings. Moreover, with banana, tapioca and other dense tree plantations, one can mistake Gurusamy’s farm for a mini forest.”

Ravindran says that the absence of predators has led to an exploding population of deer. “It is a classic example of how a fragmented forest can lead to an imbalance in the ecosystem and disturb the food chain,” he shares.

He adds, “I saw about 110 deer during my first visit over a decade ago, and today there are hundreds thriving in the area. The district collector and forest department officials frequently visit the farm to ensure the protection of the wildlife.”

Considering the increasing threats, Gurusamy has requested authorities to relocate the deer to a safer place.

Echoing Gurusamy’s same thoughts, Ravindran says that relocation of the deer is the need of the hour, but has its own challenges. “The deer is a sensitive animal. Even a shock or long chase can lead to tiredness and can result in death. Tranquillisation of the animal and relocating, a common practice with predators, will not serve as a feasible alternative. The relocation will require a slow and long term plan, and we are exploring solutions to suggest to the officials,” Ravindran says.

Despite the uncertain future for the deer, Gurusamy says that he will continue to protect the wildlife. “I do not need any support and will fight with the farmers for the deer’s safety. The state government has sanctioned an irrigation pipeline to address the water woes for the farmers. Access to water may increase threats for deer, and hence an urgent solution is needed to reduce conflict between humans and wildlife. It would be appreciated if some experts help us,” he says.

Edited by Divya Sethu

Baba Dioum, the famous Senegalese forest engineer and conservationist, once said, “In the end, we will conserve only what we love, we will love only what we understand, and we will understand only what we are taught.”

This is an approach that drives many wildlife conservationists.

But how do you get ordinary citizens who aren’t invested in wildlife conservation to care about other sentient beings inhabiting our incredible planet?

This is precisely the question that the Karnataka Forest Department is looking to answer through India’s first blue-chip natural history film called Wild Karnataka, scheduled for a full-fledged theatrical release on 17 January 2020.

Backed by stunning visuals showcasing the breathtaking natural wildlife of Karnataka, this 52-minute film hopes to evoke feelings of awe, love and eventually, understanding about natural wonders among everyday people, wonders that exist in their own backyard.

With narration from the iconic Sir David Attenborough, music from Grammy Award-winning composer Rickey Kej and cinematography by a world-class team of Indian filmmakers like Kalyan Varma and Amoghvarsha JS at the helm, Wild Karnataka hopes to get more ordinary Indians invested in wildlife conservation.

“There is a general consensus in the wildlife conservation community that awareness holds the key. If I have to tell you about needing insurance for your house, you need to know why. You need to know what you are insuring, what you are getting insurance for, and what is the value of the house, etc. In the context of wildlife conservation, a small section of the population understands the answers to these questions. But there is a large percentage of this country which is not even aware of what biodiversity lives in our backyards,” says Amoghvarsha JS, in a conversation with The Better India.

Book your tickets now. Click here to book.

Mainstreaming wildlife films/documentaries

Wildlife documentaries have mostly been shown in confined spaces like schools, colleges or seminars. If you open a blue-chip documentary like Wild Karnataka to an audience not invested in wildlife conservation through multiplex screenings, you have a shot at making them care about these things.

For example, I’ve only seen a tiger in the wild once during a school excursion to Nagarhole National Park. That image of a tiger in full flight has never left me. It’s the image that got me invested in stories or initiatives related to tiger conservation.

“See, you can’t expect people to save the tiger unless they care about it. The first step is to help people fall in love with nature. Once you do that, they will automatically care for it. People from Karnataka should take pride in their wildlife. We all know wildlife is under threat in India. This film will help people get in line with conservation. When the time comes, they will step up to save a particular species of animal or a patch of forest,” said Kalyan Varma, in an earlier conversation with The Better India.

Any landmark moment in human history, whether it’s the abolition of apartheid or slavery, or the dawn of the feminist movement, began with a change in consciousness. Take the plastic ban, for example. Why did people decide to participate in it even though it’s hugely convenient and has a massive economic lobby behind it?

It was awareness about plastic’s debilitating effects on the environment and the consciousness that it’s our responsibility to address the problem urgently.

“Our animals don’t come out in protest when their habitats are under danger. Who can be their voice? Us. We have to take the message of wildlife conservation to the masses because they don’t have access to quality documentaries, talks, podcasts, or reading material. Pursuing wildlife filmmaking, visiting national parks and going on safaris is expensive and time consuming. What is the quickest and cheapest way we can bring this experience and build a sense of wonder and awe, particularly in children?” asks Amoghvarsha.

In the age of digital media, where content is constantly consumed, the makers have a very special opportunity to tell this story.

The first step towards mainstreaming wildlife conservation is a change in consciousness. Amoghvarsha is a product of David Attenborough’s films, and he is making films today. There are researchers, conservationists and lawyers battling against illegal encroachments or poaching, and they are all the products of the media they have consumed.

If even a fraction of those who watch this film are inspired to work towards wildlife conservation, the makers have done their job and proved why it is so important for quality wildlife documentaries to go mainstream.

Further democratising the process

Working as ace wildlife photographers and filmmakers, Amoghvarsha and Kalyan Varma have travelled the world working for a whole host of notable international publications and production platforms, including National Geographic. But although their work did get broadcast internationally, it wasn’t readily available in India.

“It was a shame that we hadn’t made a documentary about our own state or backyard. There were questions surrounding funding, acquiring permissions to shoot, and logistics, among other things. There was no precedent for the work we were doing for Wild Karnataka. This is the first Indian wildlife documentary to go on the screen as a full-fledged release like a Bollywood film,” says Amoghvarsha.

Fortunately, the filmmakers had the backing of the State Forest Department, particularly with logistical assistance and sponsors who bought into their vision.

“We have also made a Kannada version of this film, and the plan is to showcase it in rural areas. Our objective is to reach about 50,000 schools. So, while the world can see our work on various platforms, even children studying in villages can watch and relish it. At the same time, we want regular people to go to theatres and watch it with their children and families. This is a classic family entertainer,” says Amoghvarsha.

Most wildlife documentaries are in English. Children studying in local government schools across small towns and rural areas can’t access these documentaries and find them hard to understand. For the Kannada version, therefore, the team has roped in famous Kannada actor-director Rishabh Shetty. They have started running pilots in these schools, and the first cycle of their outreach will include 5,000 schools. For audiences outside cities like Bengaluru, it’s critical to present these films in the vernacular.

Memorable moments built on a unique narrative

There are extraordinary moments in this film, including the sight of otters chasing away a tiger at the Kabini Wildlife Sanctuary. Many of us understand wildlife in the context of predator and prey, but the animal kingdom is a lot more complex.

In the film, there is a remarkable sequence where a sambar deer fends off a pack of wild dogs to protect her young ones. The sight of an underdog taking on a pack of predators and a mother protecting her young ones presents core human experiences as well.

“We have adopted a very different narrative style in this documentary. Rather than talking about it as a wildlife documentary, we want it to be seen as a family entertainer. Instead of a time pass Bollywood flick, take your parents or kids for this incredible visual experience and come back with some knowledge. If people loved Jungle Book, they will love this visual experience even more because the animals are real,” says Amoghvarsha.

The makers don’t want this to become merely a niche film for wildlife lovers. There are around 20 sequences in the film, whereas a typical wildlife documentary will not have more than 12-13 detailed ones that address animal behaviour. In Wild Karnataka, you’ll see a new animal every two minutes and something is happening all the time to keep you engaged.

These 52 minutes should just fly by. In fact, Amoghvarsha tells us that he had to keep reminding their post-production partners that this film is for people who haven’t really seen wildlife before.

At the end of the day, however, it’s about telling a good story.

In funnelling over hours of footage measuring 60 TB of data into just 52 minutes, the makers of this unique film hope to tell a story that will not only influence future wildlife conservationists but also usher in a generation of filmmakers and photographers who will document the earth’s natural beauty for decades to come. With their work, more people in the future will care and the wonderful cycle of wildlife conservation will continue.

“My mantra for youngsters wanting to get into wildlife filmmaking is simple. Start with what you have. There are fantastic mobile phones with which you can shoot a full film. People have this impression that wildlife media is an expensive affair. It’s not if you’re willing to put in the time. Bengaluru, for example, has many parks with plenty of flora and fauna. Pick a story and a subject that is easily accessible because it’s not about the equipment, but how you tell a story. If you’re good, others will notice you. If Wild Karnataka succeeds in capturing the attention of mainstream audiences, then one day, you could also be that person awaiting the grand release of your film at multiplexes across India,” he says.

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(Edited by Shruti Singhal)

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Shaaz Jung’s life changed when he first encountered Scarface, an alpha male leopard, in the jungles of Kabini, Karnataka. It was 2010, and Shaaz had finished his course from the Utrecht University School of Economics in the Netherlands, and was all set for a lucrative career in the United States. During the four-month break, he decided to spend some time with his parents, who are famed eco-tourism operators.

“My life changed when I encountered Scarface, who was 1.5-years-old at the time. We developed a close connection because he was a brash young leopard taking over territory, and I was a young man looking to make my mark in the world. We were both passionate and wanted to explore the forests together. As he grew more comfortable in my presence, he led me into some of the most beautiful parts of Kabini, and showed me some of its oldest trees,” says Shaaz, in an exclusive conversation with The Better India.

Instead of taking up a corporate career in the United States, he came back to the forests of South India, where he spent most of his childhood. He decided to study leopards here and help establish the Bison Resort in Kabini as a naturalist and guide.

After two years, he picked up the camera to identify and study individual leopards, beginning his sojourn as a wildlife photographer, and eventually, a cinematographer. Of course, his parents’ association with ecotourism, conservation and wildlife over 30 years gave him a solid platform to pursue his interests.

Ten years after seeing Scarface, the ‘Leopard Man of India’ has delivered The Real Black Panther, a documentary which stunningly weaves the tale of a young panther Saya, in collaboration with National Geographic Wild. Set in the Nagarhole Tiger Reserve, the documentary explores his love for Cleopatra, the most dominant female leopard, and efforts at challenging Scarface, the ferocious leopard king.

Can Saya win Cleopatra’s heart? Can he become the jungle’s top cat?

Melanistic leopard

Saya is a melanistic leopard (black panther), and the only one in the forest. It’s rare to find one.

Spotted for the first time in 2015, Shaaz has been tracking, observing, and documenting him since. In the past, black panthers have only been studied through trap cameras in places like the dense forests of Malaysia.

However, when the opportunity to tell Saya’s real and unscripted story presented itself, Shaaz approached National Geographic in 2017.

“I have spent the last ten years at the Nagarhole National Park, studying leopards. When Saya became a regular figure in our forest and took it by storm, we approached National Geographic. We aimed to tell the story that showcased the beauty of his life and journey over three years,” he says.

Tracking Saya

He’s a needle in a haystack as the only one of his kind in the forest. Unlike tigers, leopards are very elusive and nocturnal because they’re not the apex predators in Nagarhole.

Theforest is home to tigers, wild dogs, and other predators. That makes it more difficult to tell the story of leopards, leave alone one melanistic leopard, who is not just surviving but thriving against the odds of natural selection.

This leopard lives in a dry deciduous forest like Nagarhole, which stays dry for six months in the year, and wet for the remaining six.

“Saya doesn’t belong there, which means he had to adapt. This adaptive melanism makes him unique. He developed these beautiful characteristics and little quirks that you had to understand to track him. Since his skin wore a black coat, it would absorb heat faster than the average leopard. Also, unlike most leopards, he loved the rains. Whenever there was a thunderstorm, we would see him climb a dead tree to enjoy it, whereas other leopards tend to take cover under a thick undergrowth. Understanding these characteristics based on weather and habitat was the key to tracking him,” argues Shaaz.

The forests of Nagarhole are thick and dense. There are lantana trees that are not indigenous to the country growing like wildfire. The undergrowth is so thick that the moment you witness the big cat, it disappears.

Shaazand the Nat Geo WILD team would spend 10 hours a day, and see him twice a week. Sometimes those sightings would range between just five and seven seconds.

Mainly, the challenge was to tell his story not by merely spotting or documenting him, but by following him closely. This meant capturing his efforts at courting females, attempts at hunting, overthrowing other resident males, dominating their females, and camouflaging even in broad daylight. This also contained a perfect little love story, which worked well with National Geographic’s aim to highlight real stories and celebrate our ‘Real Love’ of these magnificent creatures.

“Saya, for example, loves one particular female leopard called Cleopatra (Cleo), because she is stunning. Tracking Saya for the past five years, we know every single pathway, and the trees he loves to climb depending on the season, which females interest him, and where he spends time in their territories. It has been an unbelievable journey,” elaborates Shaaz.

For the most part, the physical characteristics of Saya and other leopards are the same. The only difference is in the colour of the fur because he lacks the agouti gene, which regulates the distribution of black pigment within the hair shaft.

“We track leopards by listening to calls made by the langur and the spotted deer. The way they call for other aggressive leopards like Scarface, Torn Ears or Saya is similar. However, to specifically track Saya and not another leopard, we needed to understand his pathways. The jungle has pathways created by elephants which walk through the dense foliage creating different openings. Just like humans, big cats also tread these openings so that there is not too much foliage that scratches them up. The key was to understand the pathways Saya took and where they lead, which were often places that other leopards wouldn’t venture into,” says Shaaz.

Assisting Shaaz and the crew closely was the Karnataka Forest Department, whose guards also helped them track the leopards.

For survival, Saya began taking over territories where pathways led to evergreen and banyan trees or those that did not shed their leaves throughout the year. These paths would invariably lead to evergreen patches or trees like the big banyan and rocks that cool the earth on a hot day. That very Jungle Book-like part of the forest became a haven for Saya, although other leopards didn’t like it much because of the high density of tigers in the area. It may have been scary, but he found a way to coexist with them.

He would climb trees with black barks, being camouflaged in their shadows, rather than stand out in daylight.

This is how he would hunt as well.

“As the first people in the world to document a melanistic leopard so closely, observing Saya has thrown up some fascinating insights. In a habitat not conducive to his kind, it’s incredible that he is not only surviving but also thriving and dominating. He has overthrown leopards double his size and courted three female leopards on one tree, all at the same time, which has never been documented before. We don’t yet have the answers to why someone like Saya thrived in Nagarhole,” he admits.

Nonetheless, understanding and following Saya has been an incredible journey for Shaaz and the Nat Geo WILD team. In two years, the team has witnessed many beautiful moments. In wildlife filmmaking, the first thing many learn is to respect the animal.

“You want to give the animal space, where they behave naturally. When they are aware of your presence, they behave unnaturally. In the first year, we parked at a long distance and captured his behaviour. We would switch off the car and spend hours in his territory. And this allowed him to get comfortable with our vehicle. One of my most memorable sightings was a day in March 2018, when it was scorching hot with temperatures above 40 degrees Celsius. Saya was panting very heavily. There was no water body or shade in sight, except the shadow our car cast on the ground. He walked right towards us and sat in the shade for more than two hours. That was the perfect example of coexistence and trust, which we built over these years,” he says.

For a larger purpose

It pains Shaaz to explain that the documentary scheduled for telecast today on Valentine’s Day, is not just about his passion or love for leopards. He believes these creatures have taught him more about life than humans. He wants viewers to get inspired and understand flora and fauna around them.

“These leopards taught me how to love, move on and live by the day through their little struggles, triumph and victories. Humans worry about tomorrow, the day after, and the next year. Cats live for getting their food, water and other necessities each day. They don’t care about the passing of time. They do not care about how old they are or whether they are going to die in a few years. In teaching me to live by the day, they helped me understand the circle of life and that we are all a part of it. Scarface may be a leopard, and I, a human, but at the end of the day, we are all animals,” he concludes.

Also Read: Wild Karnataka: India’s Landmark Wildlife Documentary That Took 4 Years to Create

(Edited by Shruti Singhal)

Images courtesy: The Real Black Panther, National Geographic Wild

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The Silent Valley National Park in Palakkad is one of the most well-known tropical forests in India and is home to a wide variety of rare species of flora and fauna including the endangered lion-tailed macaque.

In 1970 when the Kerala State Electricity Board (KSEB) proposed a hydroelectric dam that runs through the Silent Valley submerging almost 8 KM of the forest, many environmentalists came together in protest and standing at the forefrunt of the protests were the tribal communities living in Palakkad. Eventually, the project was scrapped.

Maari, a Muduga tribal, grew up listening to his father standing in the frontlines, fighting to protect their green home. And it left a lasting impression on him.

It is no wonder then that Maari became a conservationist, dedicating his entire life towards preserving the environment. And for the same reason, he was bestowed with Kerala Chief Minister’s Forest Medal this year.

Early Life In The Silent Valley

Maari has been a part of the conservation of the Silent Valley forests in Kerala’s Palakkad municipality since childhood. His father, Letchiappan, had helped numerous environmental scientists and conservationists from across India study the biodiversity of the Silent Valley during the late 1970s.

Maari had also accompanied his father on most of these guided tours where he would point out the peculiarities of each of the rare species found in the forest.

Discontinuing his formal education in the 7th standard, Maari joined his father at the age of 16, who was also assigned as a temporary ‘watcher’ at the Silent Valley.

“My father knew every single detail about the place since he was brave enough to go into the deepest regions of the forest,” explains Maari.

Currently a conservationist at the Poochipara region of the Silent Valley, Maari interacts with eco-tourists and environmentalists on a daily basis.

He points out that he has had the opportunity to learn a lot from the researchers he’s guided in the past few years. He would point out rare species to them and they would teach him the name. Today, he can name 134 species of orchids in the Silent Valley along with the names of different birds and insects.

“In 2013, I had the chance to meet Prince Charles who had come to visit Kerala. I even had the opportunity to speak to him for a while with the help of a translator. At the time I didn’t know that it was a big deal, but now I do,” laughs the 48-year-old conservationist.

Besides conservation and being the ‘keeper’ of the Silent Valley, Maari also enjoys taking pictures of all the exotic creatures that only his eyes have witnessed.

“I’m not a professional photographer, but I love to capture whatever I see in the forest as a form of documentation. A range officer that used to work here gifted me a camera in 2002 and I’ve been taking photos ever since. I don’t keep any of the pictures, I submit them all to the forest office,” he explains.

Encounters With The Wild

“Whenever I take tourists and researchers into the forest I tell them a few simple things. If you spot an animal, don’t get scared and don’t make noises or run. The key is to be silent. The second thing and the most important thing to remember is that this is the animals habitat, if you don’t do anything to them, they won’t do anything to you,” he explains.

“There are so many encounters that I’ve had with the wild animals. A few years back, I was guiding a few researchers through the forest and we spotted a lone elephant. Everyone hid behind trees on seeing the tusker. When the elephant heard our footsteps, I saw him reach out with his trunk to find us. But luckily, he couldn’t reach in completely,” he says, relieved.

But for Maari, the scariest encounter was with a wild tiger.

“I was alone that day and was trying to clear my path of the twigs and leaves in the forest. Suddenly, I looked up and right next to me stood a wild tiger staring right at me. Then for the next 15 minutes, both the tiger and I were imitating each other. When I sat down quietly, he also sat. When I got up, he also moved back. Then suddenly, when I made a loud noise, the tiger ran away. The next day when I came back to the same spot, I found the remains of a Sambar Deer lying there. That’s when I realised that I had encountered a hungry tiger,” he explains.

Leopards, bears, tigers, stray wolves, snakes, there’s a long list of animals that Maari has encountered. But rather than being scared, this man has embraced these experiences that have brought him closer to the wild.

Silent Valley Today

Life in the forest has been full of obstacles and difficulties for Maari. Even during the Kerala floods in 2018, Maari was forced to spend multiple days in the forest alone as all the paths and roads to the forest were flooded.

Furthermore, his visits to his home are limited to once every 15 days. Maari says that his wife Pushpa and his three children Mithun, Lakshman and Sreerag love life in the forest but don’t have the kind of passion that he’s developed for it.

Every year the Kerala government presents the Chief Minister’s Forest Medal for exceptional efforts by individuals who have worked for the development of the society and the conservation of the environment. This is one of the highest honours that Maari has received so far.

He has also won several other environmental awards in the past, including a conservation award instituted in memory of former Chief Conservator of Forests N Madhavan Pillai and also the prestigious P V Thampi environmental award.

Maari’s selfless efforts and contributions to save the rare ecosystem of Silent Valley is unparalleled and we applaud him for being an inspiration to many forest officials and conservationists.

Also Read: When Savitribai Phule & Her Son Gave Their Lives to Save Bubonic Plague Victims

(Edited by Saiqua Sultan)

Like this story? Or have something to share? Write to us: contact@thebetterindia.com, or connect with us on Facebook and Twitter.

Our history is replete with stories of elaborate big game hunts, particularly of tigers and leopards, that were a favourite pastime of royal families in the Indian subcontinent. These events were often staged to showcase their royalty, power, wealth and, of course, machismo.

Officers of the British government routinely hunted down these wild cats with reckless abandon, alongside their Indian vassals that ruled over nominally sovereign ‘princely states.’

Post-independence, however, the killing of tigers escalated. Hunters from around the world gathered in India with local travel agencies promising them marquee trophies of animals including tigers, elephants, lions and the rhinos, amongst others. And leading the pack were the Maharajas.

Serious scientific research in the field of wildlife conservation only began in the country when renowned wildlife biologist, George Schaller came to India in the 1960s. Prior to his arrival, most of the stories surrounding wildlife were written by Britishers who were working with the Raj when hunting was allowed whether he was Jim Corbett or anyone else. People were fascinated more with the aesthetics of tigers and eventually killing them, and we saw the gradual disappearance of the strongest cats from the gene pool.

After visiting a series of forest areas like Kanha, George Schaller wrote a popular book titled ‘The Deer and The Tiger’ published in 1967, which offered a detailed account of the ecology and behaviour of Bengal tigers and four species of the hoofed mammal.

However, wildlife conservation in India really took off in the early 1970s, which saw the enactment of the Wildlife Protection Act (1972), the establishment of Project Tiger (1973), signing onto the Stockholm Declaration (1972) and Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES) of Wild Fauna and Flora (1973).

Kailash Sankhala, the first director of Project Tiger, would go on to play a fundamental role in turning the tide for wildlife conservation in India, particularly of tigers. He was probably the first Indian field officer who did real field research work in understanding the secretive lives of tigers from their behaviour, population dynamics to daily activities.

Territorial fight between two full grown #tigers. Listen with headphones. Powerful Roar & it’s echo from Indian #forests. Via WA. Today project tiger has completed 47 years in #India. pic.twitter.com/hiLonKXrif

— Parveen Kaswan, IFS (@ParveenKaswan) April 1, 2020

Early Life

Born in Jodhpur on 30 January 1925, Sankhala studied biology in college despite his father’s wish that he study engineering.

Following college, he did his Master’s from Jaswant College in Jodhpur before earning a postgraduate degree in Forestry from the Indian Forest College in 1953. The same year he joined the Forest Service in Rajasthan, a “place that shaped me and my future career,” wrote Sankhala in his book ‘Tiger! The Story of the Indian Tiger.’

“Before his passion of conservation was ignited, he was responsible for issuing hunting permits. One day sometime in the early 1950s, he killed a tiger which transformed him. It was a real turning point. He was riddled with guilt, which eventually led to him becoming a conservationist. He spent the remainder of his life protecting the tiger and its habitat,” says Amit Sankhala, the Managing Director of the Bandhavgarh Jungle Lodge, and grandson of Kailash Sankhala, in an email interview with The Better India.

It’s something Kailash Sankhala notes as well. “Even today, the scene is as fresh as it was that morning, and the open eyes of that tiger have haunted me all my life. To overcome my guilt, I have dedicated my life to the cause of tiger preservation,” he writes in his book.

In 1956, he sent a letter to the Wildlife Board of Rajasthan with an appeal to stop the shooting of tigers and thus became one of the first conservationists to speak up for their protection.

Nearly a decade later, when he was appointed Director of the Delhi Zoological Park, he convinced the Indian Board of Wildlife to institute a system that would track the export of tiger cubs, requiring exporters to clearly explain how they obtained them.

For the Tiger

It was during his time as the Director of Delhi Zoological Zoo from 1965 to 1970, when his work around tigers really began to pick up. Despite protests by the local media, he stopped making animals perform for the general public while revamping the quarters where tigers were kept more like their natural habitat. He also started conducting some of his initial research on tigers nearby and travelling to different parts to get population estimates.

In 1967, he investigated the sale of tiger and leopard furs in markets across Delhi and published those findings on the front page of The Indian Express. Two years later, he pleaded before the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) to protect the tiger whose numbers were rapidly declining.

In fact, by gathering public support on this issue in the national and international media, he persuaded the then Prime Minister Indira Gandhi to ban tiger hunting altogether. Even some of the Maharajas saw the wisdom of this plea.

“Going on Tiger Hunts, was a regular pastime of the Maharajas. They could never imagine that one day there would be Indian jungles without any tigers in them,” says Amit.

In May 1970, he was awarded the coveted Jawaharlal Nehru fellowship for his project titled ‘The Controversial Tiger: A Study of Ecology, Behaviour and Status,’ which truly enabled him to jump with both feet into the field of wildlife conservation. Under the fellowship, he set out to conduct an all India study to understand how many Tigers were still alive in India.

By September 1970, he had convinced Dr Karan Singh, the Minister of Tourism and Civil Aviation, to ban the export of tiger, leopard and panther skins or the products made from them.

For the next two years, he travelled across India to study the dwindling tiger population. Amid his project, Anne Wright, a leading voice for wildlife conservation, published an article in May 1971 titled Skin Shops, which describes in some harrowing detail the illegal selling of tiger and leopard skins in Kolkata. This was once again part of a concerted effort to raise the issue of tiger conservation into mainstream discourse.

After she was convinced of the problem by British conservationist Guy Mountfort, Prime Minister Indira Gandhi established India’s first Task Force on Tigers, headed by Dr Karan Singh. The Task Force on Tigers also included Kailash Sankhala, Anne Wright, Dr MK Ranjitsinh, an authority on wildlife, and Zafar Futehally, a naturalist and conservationist.

Months later on 9 September 1972, the parliament passed the Wildlife Protection Act for the protection of plants and animal species.

It was a landmark piece of legislation which among other things, facilitated the creation of wildlife sanctuaries and national parks, strictly restricted and regulated activities in them, besides banning the hunting of wildlife.

A few months later in April 1973, Prime Minister Gandhi established Project Tiger to “protect and restore natural habitats of tigers and to track and protect the remaining wild tigers in India” and handpicked Sankhala as its first director.

“My grandfather would spearhead Project Tiger by starting with nine tiger reserves. A major task was to relocate villages outside national parks so that there could be safer habitats for Tigers. The task was serious—setting up an administration, which will oversee the relocation of villages, creating park boundaries and developing community partnerships so that it’s all done in a harmonious manner,” says Amit. He held the post of director until 1976. However, his pioneering role in tiger conservation wasn’t merely limited to being the director of Project Tiger.

“The hallmark of his contribution, which many don’t know about, is the field research he conducted on tigers. When you read his book ‘Tiger! The Story of the Indian Tiger’, you will understand how scientifically he studied the animal. He would spend hours observing how tigers would behave, how they secrete pheromones, how they would mark their territories and the different calls they would make. All this initial research on tiger ethology and ecology was very well documented by Mr Sankhala. In my opinion, this is his most important contribution, which most people don’t underline as they should,” says Ramesh Pandey, a senior Indian Forest Service officer, speaking to The Better India.

Did his research, however, translate into on the ground conservation efforts?

Pandey seems to think so. “If you see a tiger in the jungle, it’s demeanour is one of composure and real poise like a monk. The needs of this very secretive animal are minimal. If you provide closure to a particular area of the forest, the tiger will breed, come out of distress, mark its territory, increase its range and manage on its own. By providing closure, you mitigate the scope for biotic pressure. It has immense potential to bounce back and adjust to adversity. In my opinion, he could see the composure the animal exhibited and that if it was provided with enough protection, nature would take care of the rest,” he says.

In India, much of what is understood about the practical aspects of conservation like territoriality (how animals use space to communicate ownership), overlapping of areas, prey-predator dynamics, provision of better habitat, food, shelter, water and the cover regime have primarily emanated from Sankhala’s work and experience.

“The tiger is a wanderer with no definite plan in mind. But within his ‘home range’ he has a mental note of such features as day shelters, waterholes and places where food may be expected. (His periodical reappearances at these places is sometimes interpreted as visits to guard his territory.) He seldom leaves his home range except to pursue receptive tigresses or when driven by desperate hunger,” Sankhala once wrote.

Project Tiger: From Sankhala & Beyond

Despite stepping down as Director of Project Tiger in 1976, he continued to study and write about tigers (published three books in total alongside other works on wildlife conservation) and worked as the Chief Wildlife Warden of Rajasthan from 1978 to 1983.

After a lifetime of service to wildlife conservation, he was awarded the Padma Shri in 1992. He sadly passed away two years later on 15 August 1994, at the age of 69, but the legacy he leaves behind is immense.

Project Tiger began in April 1973 with 9 tiger reserves and a mere 268 tigers. Today, there are 50 tiger reserves across India and their numbers have grown beyond 3,000. However, much credit for this significant rise in tiger population must also go to the institutional mechanisms that have been put in place the past 15 years.

Despite the introduction of the Wildlife Protection Act (WPA) in 1972, the concept of conservation initially was only about delineating a particular area, giving it more importance and calling them national parks and sanctuaries.

In declaring an area as a national park or sanctuary, these spaces are given legal protections with provisions that those who violate the WPA will be sued and punished. But the WPA did not provide any prescription for conservation measures that could be taken.

What authorities earlier did was refer to national parks and sanctuaries as ‘tiger reserves’ even though that phrase held no legal value.

Moreover, Project Tiger was just a project which financially assisted tiger reserves declared by their respective state governments by giving them technical and miscellaneous guidelines, support for capacity building, training, scientific research, monitoring of tigers, census, etc.

However, everything changed with the news that tigers had disappeared from the Sariska Tiger Reserve in December 2004. There was a massive hue and cry all over the country surrounding the rapidly depleting numbers of tigers. Post-Sariska, a Tiger Task Force was constituted under the leadership of environmentalist Sunita Narain, who made some significant recommendations. The results of these recommendations were substantial.

A statutory body called the National Tiger Conservation Authority (NTCA) was set up in December 2005 to run Project Tiger. Moreover, tiger reserves actually became legal entities with core (inviolate areas with no human habitation) and buffer areas.

“Every management plan of tiger reserves today has to be approved by the NTCA. Earlier, states could write their prescriptions, but not anymore. The standard operating procedures (SOP) to be followed in tiger conservation have been clearly defined. Every year, you have to do camera trapping for population estimates, and every four years we are doing an all India tiger estimation involving the Wildlife Institute of India, where we come up with the photographic estimation of the total number of tigers in tiger reserves. We are working on how to establish functional wildlife corridors and how we can connect two meta-populations (a group of populations that are separated by space but consist of the same species) of tigers. We are also working out how tigers coming out to adjoining areas that are not protected are living and inhabiting there,” informs Ramesh Pandey.

A lot of the success in conserving tigers in India today is down to establishing this very institutional framework post-Sariska. Project Tiger is not just a project now, but a system which has all its verticals institutionalised from management, monitoring and evaluation, scientific research, SOPs prescribed and foresightedness of how to go ahead.

Yes, steep challenges do remain like rising human-animal conflicts, convincing populations living near protected areas the economic value of conserving tigers and other wild cats, establishing functional corridors for meta-populations and preventing further fragmentation of forest areas thanks to growing linear infrastructure (power lines, communication, roads).

But there is hope because in the words of Kailash Sankhala, “There seems to be something about India’s soil that inspires conservation and humbles man as only one thin thread in the web of the grand process of nature.”

Also Read: Wild Karnataka: India’s Landmark Wildlife Documentary That Took 4 Years to Create

(Edited by Gayatri Mishra)

Like this story? Or have something to share? Write to us: contact@thebetterindia.com, or connect with us on Facebook and Twitter.

With The Positive Collective, The Better India’s COVID-19 coverage is available to regional language publications for free. Write to editorial@thebetterindia.com for more details.

My kids are in the age group where superheroes are real to them, and most often, the stories they are interested in involves caped crusaders who perform heroic deeds and save the world. Tonight, I will tell them the story of 15-year-old, Mukesh Bishnoi – a real-life teenage superhero!

The Better India spoke to Mukesh, who narrates what happened on the night of 10 May 2020, when he faced his trial by fire.

A class 10 student, Mukesh is a resident of Bhalu Rajwa (Ketu) Village, near Balesar in Jodhpur district (Rajasthan), who recently showed immense courage in the face of mortal danger. On the night of 10 May 2020 Mukesh and his friend, Pukhraj were on a motorcycle conducting their routine night patrolling in the outskirts of the village.

“Since the lockdown was announced, every night a group of us patrol from 8 PM till 2 AM. This is to ensure that the wildlife in this region remains protected,” Mukesh explains.

It was then that Mukesh heard a gunshot. Without any fear or hesitation, these boys immediately rode towards the location and came face-to-face with four poachers who had just hunted a Chinkara.

Despite the fact that the poachers were armed with guns, were full-grown men, and outnumbered the two boys, Mukesh and Pukhraj confronted them. In the ensuing tussle, two of the poachers escaped with the Chinkara (Indian gazelle) first and thereafter the other two also managed to flee.

“They were four of them and they also had a weapon which I caught hold off, but I was pushed to the ground, and that is when they made their escape.”

Mukesh and Pukhraj continued to search for them for almost an hour after the incident, but they had managed to escape.

When asked if he doesn’t fear for his life, he laughs heartily and says, “Not even for a moment. This is my duty and there is nothing to be fearful of.” In fact he also tells me that since the lockdown, this had been his second tryst with poachers.

The Chinkara is Rajasthan’s official state animal and has been accorded with the highest protection under India’s Wildlife Protection Act 1972.

But since the COVID-19 lockdown was announced in March, incidents of chinkara poaching have increased. And such brave volunteers like Mukesh have been helping the Conservation office.

The incident had been first reported by a grassroots level non-governmental organisation named Ecology, Rural Development & Sustainability Foundation (The ERDS Foundation), who also verified it, “He [Mukesh] is a young boy, having a team of few friends and working for Wildlife Conservation in Western Rajasthan. In the last one month, his team was able to crack two poaching incidents.”

A case has been registered with the local police station and the investigation is underway.

In this video, Mukesh is seen narrating the incident as it occurred. The future of India looks brighter in the safe hands of young, fearless crusaders such as Mukesh!

(Edited by Saiqua Sultan)

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Back in 2002, Dr Dharmendra Khandal, an environmentalist volunteering with the Bombay Natural History Society (BHNS), started a solo bike journey from Mumbai to his hometown in Churu, Rajasthan, to conduct a survey on the dwindling state of vulture population in India.

In the 1990s, after several reports of an alarming decline in the population of vultures came forward, India had set up nine Vulture Conservation and Breeding Centres (VCBC) across the country, out of which BNHS administers three.

But, the bike trip was just the beginning of a 17-year-long journey of environmental conservation and anti-poaching efforts for Dharmendra, who today, heads an organisation called the Tiger Watch at the Ranthambhore Tiger Reserve.

“A lot has happened since then and my work has also evolved from doing surveys to saving tigers and rehabilitating the poacher community. Honestly, in all these years of experience, I have realised that it is easier to catch and arrest a poacher, than to transform his mindset or that of the community. So through Tiger Watch we are trying to bring a more holistic change in the new generation, through education and skill development for alternative livelihoods,” says Dharmendra, adding that Tiger Watch works in tandem with the forest department as well as other rehabilitation NGOs like Dhonk.

Into the wild

A native of Ramgarh town in Churu district of Rajasthan, Dharmendra moved to Mumbai along with his family, in 2002 after completing his PhD in Wetland Ecology.

A budding environmentalist, he would work part-time in their family business of construction, while also volunteering at various city-based organisations.

“It was during that time when I got in touch with wildlife photographer and environmentalist Bibhas Amonkar, Isaac Kehimkar, who is known as the ‘Butterfly Man of India’ and Shubhalaxmi, an entomologist, and eventually started volunteering with BNHS. All of these individuals inspired me and solidified my passion to work in this field. After a year of gathering valuable experience, I got the opportunity to join the Tiger Watch as a field director which was then headed by Fateh Singh Rathore,” says Dharmendra.

The hands-on experience working in the wild, provided Dharmendra the much-needed insight to steer the cycle of positive change.

Recalling one such incident, he says, “One day, at the crack of dawn, forest guards from the Kachida chowki left to help a resident tigress called T-5 who had been moaning in pain all night long. On reaching, they realised that T-5 had died of illness, leaving behind two 3-month-old cubs. This is a very vulnerable age for the cubs and completely dependent on their mothers. Usually, the normal procedure involves capturing the cubs and transferring them to a zoo for survival, but they chose a different approach of raising them instead. Raising such young cubs, especially among humans, can be an issue, but the staff took it up by rearing them in the wild. Although the lack of proper equipment at the time posed a challenge of documentation, it was a start.”

From 2005, when the population of tigers was just 18, they have now been able to raise the number to 70 as of 2020. Around the same time in 2003, he also started his efforts of rehabilitating some young members of the Mogiya community.

Rehabilitation of Mogiyas

“The Mogiyas are a small community living in the interiors of Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh. Their major source of livelihood is poaching and they are so desensitised to the act of killing from a very young age that bringing about a change in mentality of the community was one of the most difficult tasks,” shares Dharmendra.

Harimohan Gurjar, a member of Tiger Watch, with his team of 40 volunteers and coordinators, has been the eyes and ears of the organisation. “From monitoring the tigers in the wild, keeping an eye out for any illegal activities like poaching, getting inside information or tip-offs about poaching activities, traders, etc, to even helping nearby villages get their due compensation, we take care of it all. We are sort of the bridge between the communities and Tiger Watch,” he says.

He adds that busting the poaching racket at Ranthambhore was only the first step to a larger change. And that had to come with education. So around 2006, he started the Mogiya Hostel for the community children near the tiger reserve.

Today, there are almost 40 children boarding and learning at the hostel. Additionally, during the lockdown, Tiger Watch appointed four teachers who not only teach them but also travel to 12 nearby villages to teach.

Talking about the experience, Meethalal Gurjar, a teacher, says, “These kids come from very difficult backgrounds, and it is our job to help them have a choice and stay motivated throughout. Sometimes there is a bit of tension from the families, while other times, they are supportive. A lot of them are pushed into the business of poaching by their parents, so this hostel is their safe space to help them navigate through all of that to come out successful.”

Meethalal gives the example of his student, Jaggu Bawariya, who is currently enrolled in a BCom programme and is also trying to find some work to help his family. “It is these small successes that inspire me everyday to continue work for the kids,” he mentions.

Today Jaggu is a source of inspiration for many students at the hostel, including 10-year-old Karan Bawariya.

“I have been at home since the lockdown, but I really miss staying in the hostel with my friends and teachers. I want to grow up to be a teacher and serve my country in any way possible,” says the class 4 student.

Bhajan Gujariya, his father, is one of the few proud parents who is trying hard to give their next generation a life different from what he had. “If they continue on this path of educating themselves, they will only end up making me and my family more proud,” he says.

But the road to this has been marred with many obstacles.

“I remember once, an 18-year-old boy was taken by his father and brother to hunt a tiger. The turn of events put him in the front line with the tiger and he sadly shot it. The next day, the family took out a procession celebrating this as a success. His innocence was snatched that day. There are many such sad instances where the families try and bring down the kids. But through our efforts, we are trying to protect that and help these kids have a different life than what they grow up in. So, when even a single kid grows up to be an adult and decides to lead a different life, it is success,” concludes Dharmendra.

(Edited by Gayatri Mishra)

Images courtesy: Tiger Watch

When the history of tiger conservation in India is written, there is one figure whose indelible contributions will never be forgotten. Known for his trademark long handlebar moustache, olive-coloured safari hat and dashing dark glasses, the late Fateh Singh Rathore remains the principal architect behind the success story that is the Ranthambhore National Park.

In February 2011, when the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) presented its lifetime achievement award to Fateh for his stellar conservation work, Divyabhanusinh Chavda, the then president of its India chapter, stated that “Ranthambhore became the place which brought the tiger to the consciousness of people the world over” because of him.

As a ranger, warden and field director at one of India’s best-known tiger preserves, Fateh’s work in Ranthambhore, which emphasised on the natural regeneration of the habitat, constant engagement with local communities living in its vicinity that went way beyond consultations and an abiding love for the creatures who inhabited this dry deciduous forest — became the blueprint for what a successful tiger conservation strategy looks like.

Speaking to The Better India, Bittu Sahgal, the founding editor of Sanctuary Asia, who knew Fateh closely for over four decades, talks about a time in the early 1970s when there were barely any tiger sightings.

“When we saw a piece of tiger droppings (faeces) once in 10 days or even fresh pugmarks, we would come back to Fateh’s Jogi Mahal home, sit around a campfire under the great banyan tree and celebrate the fact that we had hard proof that tigers were actually walking Ranthambhore’s coming-back-to-life trails,” says Bittu.

From a time when the national park saw just transient tigers passing through, today it boasts of a population of over 70. Even after his near 10-year stint as Field Director (1978-1987) and post retirement from the Indian Forest Service, he continued to tirelessly work towards ensuring that both the national park and communities living in its vicinity thrived.

Having said that, credit for the success of Ranthambhore and its popularity must also go to his protege, fellow conservationist and close friend Valmik Thapar.

“Valmik had a major role to play in the resurrection of Ranthambhore. While Fateh did work on the ground, Valmik served as his sounding board and brought national and global attention to the tigers of Ranthambhore through books, films and media buzz, including international media. Valmik also managed to draw considerable political support for Ranthambhore. Sanctuary Asia magazine, which I have now edited for four decades, was born under the famous banyan tree there. Sanctuary then conceived and produced 30 weekly documentaries and docu-dramas including 2 on Ranthambhore. There was no clutter of channels then and through Doordarshan we managed to get 30 million viewers over a period that stretched for almost a year,” adds Bittu.

Early Days

Born on 10 August 1938 in the Chordiyan village of Jodhpur district, Rajasthan, Fateh was the eldest of 11 children, and known for his “mischievous, cheerful and exuberant nature” according to biographer Soonoo Taraporewala. His father, Sagat Singh, was a police officer who also oversaw the family property near Jodhpur.

After graduating from Rajputana University in 1960, he worked odd jobs before his uncle, who had become the Deputy Minister of Forests in Rajasthan, offered him a job as a forest ranger in what was then the shooting reserve of Sariska. It was at Sariska where he found his calling in life encountering not just his first tiger, but also learning the art of tracking animals from an old forest guard there who stole morsels of meat from tiger kills.

Incidentally, the first tiger Fateh ever saw was the one shot by the Duke of Edinburgh in January 1961, for whom (alongside Queen Elizabeth II) he had organised a tiger hunt in an area which would later become the Ranthambore National Park.

After his posting as game warden at Sariska, he worked at the Mount Abu Game Reserve from 1963 to 1970. The next major landmark came when he was sent as part of the first batch of forest officers to be trained at the Forest Research Institute, Dehradun, in 1969.

Six of the nine-month course at FRI was dedicated to field work, and under the able guidance of Saroj Raj Choudhury, also a legendary forest officer, Fateh learned the finer nuances of wildlife conservation. Choudhury took the young Fateh alongside other recruits all over India from the Rajaji National Park in Uttarakhand to the Gir Forest of Gujarat closely observing all sorts of wildlife.

“Fateh knew he was a favourite with Choudhury. He soon got into the habit of sleeping with his shoes on, because he could never tell when Choudhury would turn up to take him trekking a moment’s notice, having recognized the keen interest and potential of the young man,” writes Soonoo in her book Tiger Warrior: Fateh Singh Rathore.

Ranthambore Beckons

After the course, Fateh was transferred to Ranthambhore in November 1971 as a Ranger, and then upgraded to the post of Warden. However, what followed was a time of great change in the wildlife conservation landscape of India.

While the population of tigers was estimated at around 40,000 at the beginning of the 20th century, excessive hunting and poaching had resulted in a significant drop, and in the early 70s opinion was unanimous that the tiger population had drastically gone down.

Consequently, the decade saw the enactment of the Wildlife Protection Act (1972), the establishment of Project Tiger (1973), signing onto the Stockholm Declaration (1972) and Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES) of Wild Fauna and Flora (1973).

In April 1973, Prime Minister India Gandhi established Project Tiger starting with nine reserves to “protect and restore natural habitats of tigers and to track and protect the remaining wild tigers in India” and chose Kailash Sankhala as its first director, who, in turn, handpicked Fateh as a member of its first team.

“When Ranthambhore was chosen among the nine, most people thought nearby Sariska Tiger Reserve would be a better bet since it had more proven tigers and was relatively well-established. But Fateh and Kailash Sankhala took Ranthambhore on as a challenge, believing that two stars in Rajasthan’s firmament would be better than one. Ranthambhore became Fateh’s life. He definitely chose a tough battle. His life in Ranthambore soon became both a challenge and love affair,” recalls Bittu.

The Long Road

More than a highly qualified forest service officer, he was a local who came to know the terrain even better than the villagers who once lived inside what is now Ranthambhore’s core area.

“Fateh rarely spent much time at his office in Sawai Madhopur, preferring to be with his tigers and his team in the heart of the forest. He led his team from the front, walking trails, fighting forest fires and chasing herds of cattle out of the fragile forest. Standing with him on the upper reaches of the hills was a lesson in conservation. A map in hand, he would peer through his binoculars from vantage points and say, ‘That is where we will build an anicut to improve water availability for herbivores.’ However, carpet bombing the forest with one waterhole after another wasn’t for him. He wanted some areas to remain dry so that chinkaras (Indian gazelles) and other arid zone animals were able to thrive too. By improving the three key lakes, he managed to localise tigers and other wild animals, and this to a great extent reduced human-animal conflict. When he saw monkeys up in trees he would say ‘look at my free labour. They plant trees by scattering fruit seeds without being paid to do so’,” recalls Bittu.

Among the soundest pieces of advice Choudhury gave him was to ensure the texture of the land never changed, and that the roads should skirt water only at a few points, so that animals could have undistributed access to it.

“The roads were to be planned through all kinds of terrain, winding routes, on which the maximum speed should never exceed thirty kilometres an hour, Choudhury would tell Fateh. This sound guidance was followed meticulously, and the results manifested themselves brilliantly as the forest regenerated and animals returned to their habitat,” writes Soonoo.

What he also did was localise the tigers by organising baits.

“To localise the tigress with cubs and prevent it entering villages, he would tie a bait like the way Jim Corbett used to do to locate his man eaters. If he did not do this, the tigress and her cubs would all die from poisoning or trapping in nearby villages. Fateh was instinctive. The slightest sounds would cause him to halt in his tracks. There is not a trail his men walked that he did not know, even at night. After spending 30 minutes with a tigress and her four sub-adult cubs, we once had to walk five kilometres in the dark of night from Milak Talao to Jogi Mahal because our vehicle stalled. He knew his forest better than poachers,” says Bittu.

However, the toughest challenge standing before Fateh in 1973 was to relocate 16 villages inhabited in the core area of the Ranthambhore National Park. These communities were all inside living with their cattle and ploughing most of the land that would have normally offered grazing land for the deer — a key component of tiger food.

“This was creating additional pressure on the forest park with the people living outside suddenly seeing more mature grasslands where they could take their cattle grazing. My father zealously protected the park, but he began to realise more and more that keeping people out of the park using force was not something that was going to last,” says Dr. Goverdhan, Fateh’s son, in a 2016 documentary.

“He went about his task (of resettling villages outside Ranthambhore) using a great deal of patience and tact, finding out from the villagers what they would want as compensation. Project Tiger ensured that the villagers were compensated with better land outside the park area, with five additional bighas of land being given to every male over the age of 18. They were also provided with money to build houses and dig wells, and were in addition given a health centre and a school, facilities that they had never had in the past…Once the villages were moved out, the forest began to regenerate on its own, becoming the incomparably beautiful Ranthambhore National Park, and in 1976, Fateh finally saw his first wild tigress there, naming her Padmini after his elder daughter,” writes Soonoo.

By 1976, he had managed to relocate 12 villages. However, the process wasn’t easy on him by any stretch. In an interview with Sanctuary Asia, Fateh recalled, “The people hugged the trees and wept. I was crying with them because, inside me, I knew they were paying the price for something they may never understand.”

“In those days, the objective of Project Tiger was to separate man and animal. In fact, there were about 25,000-30,000 cattle inside Ranthambhore at one point and it took a long time to ensure that livestock was moved out or they would leave no grazing for wild herbivores. Fateh’s logic was impeccable. He said if we ensure that herbivores have abundant food, water and shelter inside the forest, farms would be relatively safe from crop or livestock losses. But that is not to say there was no conflict,” says Bittu.

These tensions almost cost him his life. Fateh was almost killed in August 1981, when a group of 50 villagers attacked him. They brutally beat him up with sticks and left him for dead. He had to spend three months in the hospital.

“In August 1981, a group of disgruntled men from Uliyana village attacked me and left me to die with multiple fractures and a head injury. The villagers were angry as they could not take their cattle for grazing or cut firewood from the protected area of the forest,” he recalled in this 2011 interview.

Despite the anguish, he was determined to not just produce results but also engage with villagers, eat at their homes and talk to them. “The forest and all its creatures were the creation of the gods, he (Fateh) argued over the village fires. Did not the goddess Durga, the slayer of demons, herself ride a tiger? No man had a right to disturb that divine creation. The forest must be left to grow back,” writes author Geoffrey C. Ward in Tiger-Wallahs: Encounters With the Men Who Tried to Save the Greatest of the Great Cats.

Battling Poaching

Besides compensation for resettlement, there were limited resources for actually cracking down on poaching and ensuring that the village economy more than just survived.

“Fateh’s friends and supporters would beg or borrow money when he needed it to keep tigers safe. Even money given to the State Governments from the Centre would go to Rajasthan exchequer and would often not be used for wildlife. Forest guards and wildlife were not quite high on the priority list for officials. Most guards lived in the surrounding villages and Fateh did all he could to ensure that they benefited from jobs and livelihoods created to protect the park. He wanted the village economy to be freed from dependence on forest biomass alone. Often money went towards repairing roads and protection trails. Other times it was for the creation of anicuts and other water harvesting systems including step wells from days of yore. He had no sympathy for poachers who would be sent to the police lockup instantly. But through all this, even when tensions were high, he would sit over tea with villagers or share a meal in their villages, while trying to explain why the forest and its wildlife had to be saved,” says Bittu.

Nonetheless, he also took a much more nuanced socio-economic approach to tackling poaching, and a lot of that work happened after he left the forest service in 1996.

“Fateh Singh’s approach to the poachers was unique, and very typical of him. He realised that the people who actually kill the tigers are not the ones who profit from the deed. They are very poor nomadic hunter-gatherers from the Mogiya tribe. Knowing that poaching cannot be curbed by jailing the poachers for a few days and then letting them off on bail to continue their occupation, he has been trying in the recent past to rehabilitate them by offering them an alternative livelihood,” writes Soonoo.

Tiger Watch

After his 10-year stint at Ranthambhore came to an end in 1987, he was appointed as the Field Director of the Sariska Tiger Reserve at the request of then Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi, who wanted him to replicate the same success there.

However, that didn’t happen because he came up against a district administration immune to the needs of tiger conservation.

“Just two years later [after my posting there], the collector, all of a sudden, allowed villagers to take their cattle into the park for grazing. More than 20,000 cattle entered the park, threatening the wild animals there. I resigned my job as a mark of protest. Soon I came to know that 16 tigers were missing. I became an eyesore for the forest department. I could understand their follies. I spoke the truth and was quite outspoken. They had every reason to hate me,” he says in a March 2011 interview.

Little surprise that more than a decade later, in December 2004, the disappearance of tigers from the Sariska Tiger Reserve made headlines.

Fateh retired from his official duties in 1996. In the following year, he established the non-profit Tiger Watch, which is today led by his protege Dr. Dharmendra Khandal. One of the primary things he wanted Tiger Watch to do was rehabilitate the Mogiyas, and improve the relationship between them, and the park.

“The Mogiyas are a small community living in the interiors of Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh. Their major source of livelihood is poaching and they are so desensitised to the act of killing from a very young age that bringing about a change in mentality of the community was one of the most difficult tasks,” shares Dharmendra speaking to TBI.

However, their efforts to help the Mogiyas only picked up speed after 2004, when a survey conducted by Tiger Watch found that led to the shocking discovery of 18 missing Tigers from Ranthambore. These poachers were the foot soldiers of a vast nexus of wildlife criminals that crossed international boundaries.

“With the help of informants turned and procured from within the Mogya (Mogiya) tribe and active assistance from the local police force, Tiger Watch conducted several raids, and managed to clamp down on several poaching gangs operating in and around the Ranthambhore National Park,” says the Tiger Watch website.

“Tiger Watch initiated the Mogya (Mogiya) Rehabilitation and Education Programme which sought to bring the tribe into the mainstream by ensuring that the next generation received an education and were thus weaned away from poaching. The first to enroll in the programme were the children of the very poachers arrested in Tiger Watch raids with the police. The community, among other things, now has its first ever university graduates,” it adds.

Dharmendra says that busting the poaching racket at Ranthambhore was only the first step to a larger change. And that had to come with education. In 2006, they started the Mogiya Hostel for the community children near the tiger reserve.

Talking about the hostel, Meethalal Gurjar, a teacher, says, “These kids come from very difficult backgrounds, and it is our job to help them have a choice and stay motivated throughout. Sometimes there is a bit of tension from the families, while other times, they are supportive. A lot of them are pushed into the business of poaching by their parents, so this hostel is their safe space to help them navigate through all of that to come out successful.”

Working with the Mogiyas resulted in the Village Wildlife Volunteer Programme.

“Led by a man called Hanuman Gurjar, the 50-member team of village youth help monitor tigers. Overseen by Tiger Watch and the forest department, these pastoral herders are given a monthly stipend and smartphones with memory card adaptors for the camera traps which allow them to report their findings every morning to Tiger Watch via WhatsApp. They operate out of villages in an unofficial buffer zone on the peripheries of the 1,700 square kilometre tiger reserve and have become an unprecedented source of liaison between the forest department and local communities,” notes this GRIN News report.

They also play a critical role in mediating between forest authorities and local communities in the event a herder loses his cattle to a tiger kill to ensure accurate compensation.

Besides initiatives like Tiger Watch, Fateh, along with Dr. Goverdhan also began conducting healthcare camps in the villages through the 1990s, which eventually resulted in the establishment of Sevika Hospital in Sawai Madhopur in 1997.

Today, it’s a super-specialty hospital that specifically caters to low income communities in the surrounding villages. Similarly, the Fateh Public School was also started to deliver quality education to children living in the surrounding villages back in 2001. Both the hospital and school are run by Prakratik Society, a non-profit started by Dr. Goverdhan.

Legacy

Fateh passed away on March 1, 2011 at the age of 72 after suffering from a bout of lung cancer at his home in Sawai Madhopur, and the legacy he leaves behind is immense.

Visit the website of the Intergovernmental Science-Policy Platform on Biodiversity and Ecosystem Services (IPBES), a global agency with 134 member nation states, today and there you will find what Fateh knew back in the 1970s – loss of species will make the Indian subcontinent unliveable.

“Scientists and economists have discovered today that forests control the climate, forests harvest water. Species ranging from butterflies and bees to tigers and turtles are the gardeners of Eden. Fateh hated the idea of ‘planting trees’. Why should we plant trees when monkeys, birds and wild pigs do a better job of it by eating fruit and then scattering seeds with their excreta, he never tired of saying,” says Bittu.

When Sanctuary launched its Kids for Tigers educational outreach programme in 2000, Fateh master minded an incredible village contact programme for the magazine.

It started with a Kids for Tigers Festival in Sawai Madhopur that drew in almost 25,000 visitors from near and far. He brought in hundreds of village children who marched through Sawai Madhopur town. One such child was 11-year-old Govardhan Meena from Rawal Village, who is now in his 30s and married with kids of his own.

“Govardhan is now the virtual Pied Piper of Ranthambhore with over 15,000 kids from 45 villages in his vanar sena. These kids are taken into the forest that Fateh nurtured all his life. Many of their parents are now dependent on income from tourism and also from jobs created to protect wildlife. Govardhan does this through storytelling, tiger fests, slide and film shows in their villages. The tiger, he explains, is just a symbol for all of nature,” says Bittu.

One lesson that forest officers should specifically learn from his life is that their loyalties should lie only with the forests and not politicians or superior officers.

“Fateh lived a full and very rich life. His life was entwined with Ranthambhore. In between when he cracked down too hard, ‘the system’ struck back. When he was in advanced stages of cancer he was even prevented from entering the forest he loved, but then his son Govardhan Rathore and Belinda Wright of WPSI, managed to get him to take a last ride into the forest for which he had devoted his whole life. He just wanted to make sure that Ranthambore as a child grew up to be a strapping young adult that could actually survive without him. That was his abiding passion,” he notes.

(Edited by Gayatri Mishra)

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At the turn of the 20th century, the great Asiatic lions, which once roamed from Palestine to Palamau, began disappearing in large numbers across West Asia and North India.

The only consistent refuge they found was in Gir forest of present-day Gujarat. Even there, they had become victims of shikar (hunting) expeditions by British officials and princes, loss of habitat and conflict with cattle, owned by residents living in its vicinity.

Today, the protected area of the Gir National Park of Gujarat, which covers an area of 1,412 square kilometres, is a standard bearer for the conservation of the Asiatic lions in India. But the foundation of present day conservation efforts was laid by the Nawabs of the erstwhile princely state of Junagadh, whose territories covered large tracts of the forest.

Historians have stated that the Junagadh princely state’s efforts under the Nawabs of the Babi clan were among the earliest attempts in India at protecting a species for its own sake since many of these present day national parks and protected natural areas were once the old hunting grounds of Indian princes and British officials.

Early History

It was in 1735, when Sher Khan Babi evicted the last Mughal governor out of the region and created a dynasty of nine Nawabs which lasted until 1947. The focus of this article will be on the reign of the eighth and ninth Nawabs which was split by a decade of direct rule by the British colonial administration.

Without the intervention of these Nawabs, it’s safe to say that the Asiatic Lions would have all but disappeared from the Gir forest. Having said that, the first significant effort at conserving these lions came from the sixth Nawab Ma­habat Khanji II (1851-1888) in 1879.

Angered at dwindling sightings of lions in his territory, he issued a set of rules which basically banned all forms of hunting and trapping of the animal unless they received specific permission from the state.

Supporting him in this endeavour was Lord Sandhurst, the Governor of Bombay. This was a significant order by any stretch because according to some estimates from 1875 to 1925 about 150,000 leopards, 80,000 tigers and 200,000 wolves were killed for sport or rewards while many others died without notice.

Despite their best intentions, neighbouring princes and British officials continued to pursue these lions. The next significant order came from the Nawab Rasul Khanji (1892-1911) in 1892, who banned the killing of the peacocks and passed a set of rules that basically stated that lions “could only be shot by special permission of the state for special reasons and circumstances,” according to this article in the Conservation and Society journal.

Moving Ahead

However, this did little to aid conservation efforts. Senior British officials and neighbouring princes were still keen on their hunting expeditions, particularly in forest areas extending beyond the jurisdiction of the princely Junagadh state.

Troubled by the lack of any serious attempts at protecting the lion population, Rasul Khanji wrote a letter to Lord Curzon in April 1901, seeking his support. In the letter, he stated while hunting was heavily restricted within the confines of the Junagadh state, they could not confine the movement of lions once they had left the princely state’s boundaries, and were thus vulnerable.

Rasul Khanji had feared “that this noble race will be extinguished by the hands of common people, unless the prohibition of destroying it is strictly enforced in all surrounding places [neighbouring states and smaller principalities] alike.”

All of these attempts at conservation were sparked by estimates by various British officials and news reports on the number of lions left in the Gir. According to one Major General William Rice in 1850, their numbers were less than 300. Thirty years later in 1884, the Kathiawar Gazetteer said that lions were nearly wiped out with a rough estimate of a dozen left. This was an exaggeration. In 1905, British political agent Major H.G. Carnegie estimated that the lion population was between 60 and 70 whereas the Junagadh administration believed that ‘at least 100 lions’ were left at that time.

“By 1908-09 the area of Gir forest under the charge of the Forest Department had increased to 1530 square km and a sanctuary for lions was set up covering an area of over 326 square km within it. It was the first of its kind in the British Indian empire to be followed a decade later by Kaziranga which was declared a ‘Re­served Forest’ to protect the greater one horned rhinoceros in 1908. This was the culmination of the steps initiated under Lord Curzon’s Viceroyalty in 1905 when it was believed that hardly 10 to 12 animals were left in the area. It was declared a Game Sanctuary in 1926,” notes the Conservation and Society article.

Having said that, Rasul Khanji occasionally gave into demands from senior British officials to organise shikars. When he died in 1911, his heir was a minor, and as the colonial government did not want to take any chances with their administrative control of this princely state, they officially took over for a decade till his heir Nawab Mahabat Khanji III came of age.

Under this decade-long stewardship of senior British official HD Rendall, ‘not even a Governor of Bombay … was in­vited to shoot in the forest’. When Mahbatkhanji came of age and took over in 1921, he rejected requests from Maharaja Jam Saheb Ranjitsinhji of Navanagar (of ‘Ranji’ cricket fame) and Maharaja Ganga Singh of Bikaner to shoot lions.

Annoyed by these requests, he wrote a long letter to E Maconochie, the Agent to the Governor of Bombay in Rajkot, parts of which are worth quoting here.

“As a matter of fact the real point at issue is the ownership of lions and the political right of inviting distinguished visitors to Kathiawad for lion shikar. … what I complain of is that lions are tempted to stray outside by tying up buffaloes just over my borders … This is nothing more or less than poaching from which I think I have a right to be protected by [the Imperial] government. If I were to take the law into my own hands, the re­sult would be a constant series of border affrays which would endanger the peace of this part of Kathiawad,” he wrote.

“It is an unquestionable fact that the house of the lion is the Gir forest and equally unquestioned that the forest is my ancestral property. The preser­vation of the forest which covers about 500 sq. miles [1295 km 2 ] of my territory is supposed to be of value to the province as a whole, not only as a constant source of grass and fire wood, but also because of its effect on rainfall. But what has undoubtedly weighed with the Nawabs of Junagadh in the past and carries weight also with me is that the forest is the last sanctuary of Indian lions.”

Besides taking ownership of the lions, he also threatened to break the peace with neighbouring states and even threatened to destroy the forests if his demands of protecting the lions outside the jurisdiction of Junagadh were not met.

Unfortunately, the colonial government didn’t give in to his demands, and rival princely states continued to shoot lions outside the jurisdiction of Junagadh. However, his efforts didn’t stop. He went onto conduct the very first lion census in 1936, which presented a total figure of 287.

It’s a battle Mahabat Khanji fought till 1947, even though between 1920 and 1943, 89 lions were killed, as per records with the Junagadh State. When India declared Independence on August 15, he made the blunder of acceding to Pakistan on the advice of his diwan Shah Nawaz Bhutto (former Pakistan Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto’s grandfather).

After losing control of his administration thanks to this decision, he had to leave for Karachi on 24 October, and eventually the erstwhile princely state acceded to India.

Following his departure, however, there was little administrative protection for the lions from hunters and within a span of five years from 1963 to 1968, the population of lions fell from 285 to about 177.

Understanding the need to prevent its extinction, the Indian Forest Department in September 1965 started a conservation programme for the Asiatic Lions and the forest area was designated as the Gir National Park and Wildlife Sanctuary. From 177 in 1968, the number of Asiatic lions has jumped to 674 as of 2020. While forest officers and guards at Gir are tirelessly protecting the Asiatic lions, it was an idea that first saw the light of day under the Nawabs of Junagadh, who felt the need to protect instead of hunting them.

Reportedly, when Mahbatkhanji left for the airport to fly into Karachi, there were tears in his eyes. He looked upon the Girnar mountain, he said, ‘Who will protect my lions now?’ It took a while, but local villagers living in the vicinity of the National Park, forest officers and rangers in India have now taken these conservation efforts to another level.

Key Sources:

Divyabhanusinh. Junagadh State and its Lions: Conservation in Princely India, 1879-1947. Conservat Soc 2006;4:522-40.

How the Gir Lions Were Saved (Live History India)

Feature Image caption/source: Mohammad Rasul Khanji, Nawab of Junagadh (1892-1911), and Bahaduddinbhai Hasainbhai, Wazier, Junagadh, who was also state wazier under previous ruler/Wikimedia Commons/British Library

(Edited by Gayatri Mishra)

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The auspicious occasion of Ganesh Chaturthi is a good reminder of the cultural significance of elephants in the lives of many Indians. This also makes it an excellent reason why we must remind ourselves of the need to conserve them.

Although elephants are accorded a high status in the Wildlife Protection Act (1972), as Schedule-I species, according to multiple news reports there were only around 27,000 wild elephants remaining in 2017, as opposed to a million a decade prior. This is a figure that should worry not just lovers of wildlife, but also millions of citizens who worship the elephant.

To inspire you and give you some ideas about how you can help, here are five instances of people going out of their way to show elephants the kind of love, respect, care and reverence they deserve.

Dr Kushal Konwar Sarma, Elephant Doctor 

For over three decades, Dr. Kushal Konwar Sarma hasn’t taken a day off from his veterinary duties, and treated 700 elephants and bulls every year. It is the memory of losing Lakshmi, the elderly elephant Sarma fell in love with as a child in his ancestral village of Barama village of Assam’s Kamrup district, that inspired him to become a vet.

“From tranquilising and capturing 139 rogue jumbos to rescuing and treating hundreds of captive and injured elephants over the years, Dr Sarma has contributed to the conservation of the Asian Elephants in India. Notably, he holds a world record for this feat,” reports The Better India. To prevent human-elephant conflict, he persuades people to adopt bio-fencing rather than setting up protection traps.

Bio-fencing means growing fruit-bearing trees, which ensure that the jumbo is well-fed and wouldn’t need to rampage the property, and thorny varieties, which keep them at bay. Despite coming face to face with death multiple times, he continues to work with elephants from close quarters.

Wildlife SOS and Raju

Raju, a gentle pachyderm who hit 50 in 2014, suffered abuse all his life. Captured as a baby, he was a captive elephant who had lived under 27 different owners. He had never seen life without chains around his legs. He was used as a prop to beg for alms from passers-by in many small towns in Uttar Pradesh.

His owners could not afford the cost of feeding him, and hence he was forced to eat paper and plastic. That’s when a 10-man team of vets and wildlife experts, alongside 20 forest department officials, rescued Raju from his owners.

When the spiked shackles were cut from his legs, the relief brought tears to his eyes. His rescuers have tried to ensure that he never sheds a tear again. Raju’s former owners launched a legal battle to reclaim their ownership, but the court sided with the rescuers, i.e. Wildlife SOS, and granted custody to the latter. Raju is one of 18 elephants who live in the Elephant Conservation and Care Centre in Mathura.

You can also read about the first water clinic for elephants they started here.

Anand Kumar, Saving Elephants With Mobile Phones

A wildlife conservationist, Ananda Kumar came up with an innovative solution to resolve man-elephant conflict in the Valparai plateau of Tamil Nadu – using a simple mobile phone.

The key to this effort was tracking the elephant and letting people know of its presence to avoid any conflict. With assistance from locals and the state government, he implemented a solution where the location of the elephant was shown on TV as a ticker crawl, which helped people to be aware of the elephant presence and plan their outdoor activities in a more informed way.

But what about the people already out in the field? Kumar started a mobile SMS service where the users are notified via text messages about the elephant presence in a particular area. The messages are sent in both English and Tamil.

“And for those who did not even have a mobile phone or were out of the network area, we installed lights. These lights blink whenever there is an elephant in a 2-km radius,” says Kumar. Before the implementation of this service, Valparai plateau in Tamil Nadu recorded an average three deaths annually due to elephant-human encounters. After this programme, the average number of deaths has gone down to just one per annum.

Parbati Barua, the Lady Mahout

Meet Parbati Barua, an Assamese mahout (trainer) who tames rogue elephants, uses ash instead of toothpaste and sleeps inside a tent on a simple mattress without a pillow alongside her tools.

At age 14, she caught her first wild adult tusker in the Kachugaon forests in Kokrajhar district. Since then, she has lived and worked amidst her beloved elephants.

Catching a wild elephant is a high risk profession. They are captured by throwing a lasso around their heads. Training them is a very slow process. It takes about six months of gentle coaxing to win them over, notes Women Feature Service.

“Parbati’s three pachyderm daughters are Lakshmimala, Aloka, and Kanchanmala. The trio and a team of coworkers lead an unusual and adventurous life. Different states like Bihar, West Bengal, and Assam request her help in tackling rogue tuskers or tend to those who are injured/ailing. She is consulted on elephant management policies, in controlling capturing wild herds, driving out wild herds from urban areas, and training mahouts,” reports Women Feature Service.

Tenzing Badosa, Elephant-friendly organic tea farm

Tenzing’s two farms in Bodoland territorial area of Kachibari village in the Udalguri district of Assam are certified as the world’s first elephant-friendly farms.

In the buffer zone, which is the area at the end of his farm from where the jungle begins at the Bhutan border, Tenzing does not cut down the trees or start a fire.

Instead he has planted bamboo trees on which the wild elephants feed. He has also not put any barriers in and around his plantation, so that the wild animals from the jungle can freely move in his farm. At times, you can see at least 70-80 wild elephants in his farm. Hornbills, wild pigs, deer, peacocks and a variety of birds are also a common sight there.

“The certified elephant-friendly tea is sourced from plantations that meet high standards for protection of elephant habitats and water resources, reducing human-elephant conflict, reducing barriers to elephant movement between habitat areas, elimination of electrocution risks from fencing and power lines, elimination of drainage ditch hazards and elimination of risk of poisoning of elephants,” notes an expert speaking to The Telegraph.

(Edited by Gayatri Mishra)