Secrets of the Jungles

Just when you think you’ve seen it all, or at least a significant portion of it, the jungles delight you with a new revelation. The many secrets and treasures of Indian jungles, shrouded deep within the dense foliage, hold a mysterious charm; one that allures and excites its visitors with the promise of something new each time. 

The Elusive Mouse Deer

It was during one of those trips to a tiger reserve in South India that the spirits of the forest decided to shower me with their generosity. Following an impressive safari where we spotted a tigress with her cubs, some elephants, and the usual ungulates that throng the Bandipur Tiger Reserve, it was almost time to exit the park. 

I rested my camera on the seat and figured I’d watch the sunset. It was our last safari for the trip, and I wanted to take in as much of the sights and sounds of the jungle as possible. Just as we drove past a curve, our naturalist hurriedly signaled for the driver to stop. I picked up my camera that very instant and squinted hard to see what had caught the naturalist's attention. 

“There, by the bush!” he motioned excitedly. 

Sure enough, by the clearing, something the size of a house cat or a small, domestic pig, emerged from within a bush. It was like nothing I’d see before. Dwarfish stature, short legs, a mouse-like face, the animal was simply adorable! 

“Madam, it is a mouse-deer,” whispered the naturalist, as I got busy clicking. 

The fading light and the considerable distance between the mouse deer and the vehicle presented a challenge. It was not the ideal setting from a photographer’s point of view. But that’s the thing about wildlife photography; you cannot plan every shot, or position the subject where the light is good. You can either take the shot or leave it. I decided on the former. In the obsession to get that perfect picture, I didn’t want to risk missing out on this rare opportunity to not just see a mouse deer in the wild but also photograph it. It was an exciting moment indeed!  

Its small frame, nocturnal habit, and secretive nature make it a very difficult subject to capture on camera. The mouse-deer, considered to be the smallest ungulate, is also known as the Chevrotain. The Indian Spotted Chevrotain, a species of even-toed ungulate in the family Tragulidae,  faces a severe threat from poachers and destruction of habit. In fact, this diminutive ungulate was spotted in Chhattisgarh after a long hiatus of 112 years, in 2017. It was also bred in captivity and then reintroduced into the Amrabad Tiger Reserve in Telangana state. These statistics, although grim, should give you an idea of how challenging it is to be able to actually spot one in the wild. 

As I watched the mouse deer dart around like Alice’s White Rabbit, it occurred to me that this little fellow could be a tasty appetizer for a predator’s palate. I shared this thought with the naturalist. 

“It’s small stature and mottled markings provide excellent camouflage from predators, especially if they stay immobile. I’m sure many safari vehicles, in their pursuit of a tiger or leopard, have driven right past one! ” he quipped.

It was something to ponder over. Not only is it difficult to see the Spotted Chevrotain in its natural habitat, but it’s amazing how little we know of this elusive animal. It may lack the tiger’s royal presence or a leopard’s delicate grace, but the mouse deer is a charming little creature that deserves its rightful place in our jungles. Protecting this Tragulidae species not only requires focus on increasing their numbers in the wild, but also educating people about their behavior, habitat, and their importance in maintaining ecological balance. 

Wildlife of India: The Past, Present, and the Future

I must’ve been in high school when I was first presented with my very own copy of Jim Corbett’s book, “The Temple Tiger and Man-Eaters of Kumaon.” I devoured the pages in no time, and soon, hungered for more. My love affair with the jungles of India had begun. Corbett followed Rudyard Kipling, Kenneth Anderson, Valmik Thapar, and the list grew lengthier by the day. Little did I know back then, that someday I’d tour these incredible jungles with a camera in hand and a wild imagination in tow, looking for a good picture or a subject for an article.  Until then, my imagination was peppered with thoughts of tigers stalking unsuspecting deer, herds of gaur grazing peacefully, of leopards leaping from one branch to another, and of crocodiles slinking into the murky depths of a vast river. 

Jungle fowl engaged in a spat

Today, as I listen to the alarm calls of a spotted deer, sitting patiently in a safari jeep, I consider myself to be one of the fortunate few whose dream of capturing these memories on camera has finally come alive. A huge credit for this goes to the conservationists, forest department personnel, and all those who’ve battled for the protection and preservation of Indian jungles and its wildlife, making it possible for the likes of me to enjoy what remains of the flora and fauna in modern India.

The protection of endangered species and the forest cover is an ongoing battle, one that must be fought relentlessly at all times so that the generation after us isn’t relegated to photographing animals and birds at the zoo. Before the former Prime Minister Indira Gandhi launched Project Tiger in 1973, the population of these striped cats was on a rapid decline. By 1971, it is believed that a mere 1800 tigers remained in the wild. The demand was such that tiger skins adorned the living rooms of bureaucrats, nawabs and the elite of India and abroad.  It wasn’t just the taxidermists who had a field day, but also poachers who hunted and sold various body parts of tigers, monitor lizards and elephants, and a host of other species, to anyone willing to buy them. From marketing them as powerful aphrodisiacs to talismans, 19th century India saw a vulgar display of wild animal body parts as ornamental pieces.

An elephant herd by the banks of Kabini

Over the years, having toured numerous jungles across the sub-continent and read innumerable books on wildlife in India, I have come to the conclusion it isn’t all black and white as far as wildlife conservation is concerned. On one end of the spectrum are the experts who raise awareness and invest their heart and soul in the protection of critical species, and on the other end are the hapless villagers and tribal people who’ve lost crops, livestock, their homes and in some cases, lives to wild animals. Caught in the crossfire is the Forest Department whose main purpose today has become to strike a balance between the two.

A leopard in Nagarahole National Park

What then is the future of wildlife in India? Are we doing enough to put an end to forest degradation and wildlife protection? A small, but crucial, part of the answer lies in Wildlife Tourism. Thapar, who invested over 35 years of his life battling for the protection of Tigers in India, said that the future of Indian wildlife lies in Wildlife Tourism. For many, wildlife tourism may be a double-edged sword, a matter of debate... but I couldn’t agree more. When I think of the future of wildlife in India, I not only envision a thriving tiger and leopard population, but also a healthy percentage of endangered species such as the Barasingha, Black Buck, and larger mammals including elephants and gaur, living unmolested by man. To make this possible, it’s imperative that we protect their homes and ensure they have enough space to establish territories. I emphasize on the importance of territorial space, because animals, especially predators, in most cases are territorial. In the case of elephants, they are creatures of habit, migrating from one part of the forest to another, looking for food and water. As for tigers, the lack of territorial space means an increased risk of human-animal conflict. Simply declaring tigers as protected will not suffice. A sustainable and practical future for these animals starts with prevention of forest degradation and establishing critical animal corridors. All of this boils down to responsible wildlife tourism. For the jungles of tomorrow, the India of today needs to educate the generation of the future. We need to teach them to revere the jungles, love and respect our wildlife. I believe that the foundation has been set by our predecessors who dedicated their lives for preservation and protection of wildlife in India. I’m optimistic that the day is not far when the jungles as I envision them, will become a reality. 

The Unsung Heroes of our Jungles: Part II

In my previous blog, I touched upon the Forest Department’s (Karnataka) efforts at protecting and preserving our jungles. I also discussed how the ‘selfie’ menace has compounded the problem of human-animal conflict. In the next two parts, I will delve deeper into the challenges faced by the personnel attached to the forest department, tribal relocation and rehabilitation programs, conservation efforts including anti-poaching drives and management of tourists that throng Tiger Reserves every day.

Ecotourism has grown substantially over the years. I remember, when my husband and I started our love affair with the jungles of South India, ecotourism was at its nascent stages. The resorts and rest houses always had room for last-minute check-ins. So much has changed since then. The density of tourists who throng the resorts and guesthouses around forests has grown substantially. For employees from the forest department who’re dealing with a plethora of problems, to begin with, this presents a new challenge…managing the growing tourist population.

To minimize disturbance to wildlife and allow people to enjoy and appreciate all that our jungles have to offer, the forest department has limited the area reserved for tourism.  Besides earmarking specific areas for tourists, personnel from the forest department also need to decide on the number of safari vehicles allowed inside and the reserve. Although most animals that dwell in areas reserved for tourism are familiar with the sounds from jeeps and people, not regulating the number of tourists and safari vehicles can upset this delicate balance. Quite often during a safari, I’ve seen areas that are off-limits to tourists. Temperamental, shy, and territorial, the denizens of the jungles peppered around Karnataka need these areas to hunt, breed, and rest. As always, it falls on the shoulders of the RFO and his team to devise a park management plan that allows people to tour the jungles without exploiting the sanctity of the forests.

The summer of 2017 saw us pack our bags for a quick trip to the Nagarhole Tiger Reserve. During one of the safaris, I couldn’t help but notice the small dwellings along the fringes of the forest. Curious, I enquired with the naturalist as to whom these huts belonged to and if the government was okay with people living in such proximity to wild animals. I was told that they were tribals who grew up in these jungles and considered it their home.

I decided to follow up with an officer attached to the Karnataka Forest Department, and was astonished to learn that nearly 1500 - 2000 families lived inside the Nagarahole Reserve alone!

“How do they manage to coexist with wildlife? Does this mean more human-animal conflict? Where do they feature in the government’s plans of forest and animal corridor extension?” I directed all my questions at him.

“The commendable efforts at protecting endangered wildlife species and dwindling forests by the Karnataka Government and Forest Department bore fruit in terms of a marked increase in Tiger population, as well as more space for other animals such as elephants, leopards, and gaur to thrive,” he explained. “However, this also meant the forest dwellers and tribals had to share precious space with these animals. Therefore, in a bid to reduce human presence in crucial wildlife habitat, the Central Government launched the Tribal Rehabilitation Program.”

Under this program, the tribals willing to relocate are provided with a compensation between 10 to 15 lakhs or suitably compensated with land and homes. Although some families are willing to move out, some are hesitant, and there are others who’ve lived in the jungles their whole lives and would rather stay put. The objective of the program, according to the government, is not to force people to shift out of the reserves, but rather persuade them to make a living elsewhere. The reasoning behind this move is that lesser human interference means better chances of the flora and fauna thriving. For the people who gather honey and herbs from the forests, who can climb a tree faster than you can spell it, and those who exist in a symbiotic relationship with nature, their skepticism is understandable and only time will tell how successful the program will be. But for now, the government, as well as the tribal community, is testing the waters.

Stay tuned for my next blog on human-animal conflict, steps taken to prevent poaching and the development work undertaken by the Karnataka Forest Department.

Elephants - The Misunderstood Gentle Giants of the Western Ghats, and their Role in Human-Animal Conflict

If you love nature and wildlife as much as I do, then ERC Davidar’s book, Whispers from the Wild, is a must-read. This masterpiece has the power to transport you back to the jungles, to the time when the forests along the Western Ghats were unmolested and a safe haven for all its wild denizens.

A lone tusker - Nagarhole Reserve

So much has changed since then. Reports of man-animal conflict in local newspapers are common and aplenty. Sometimes it’s elephants trampling passersby to a pulp, a leopard finding its way into the city, or tigers attacking forest guards. Davidar foresaw this problem much before it reared its ugly head and threatened to swallow South India’s green cover. A hunter turned conservationist, he dedicated his life to creating elephant corridors and checking trigger-happy tourists. Today, Karnataka’s pride, the Biligirirangana Reserve, Nagarahole National Park, and the Bandipur Tiger Reserve boast vast species of flora and fauna. From tigers and leopards, to elephants and various birds, it fills my heart with joy to see a thriving animal population in these jungles.

That said, the problem of man-animal conflict looms over our heads like an ominous cloud. The jungles need to be respected and revered. Sadly, this sentiment isn’t shared by everyone. I remember this incident when my husband and I were driving through the Bandipur Reserve, and we saw a group of young men taking pictures against the backdrop of an elephant herd. One of the men, the most foolhardy of the lot, got off the vehicle and stood with his back to the herd. Threatened by this, a female elephant let out a shrill trumpet and charged. Pandemonium ensued, as the terrified man took to his heels, scrambling to get into the vehicle. Thankfully, it was a mock charge, and no one was harmed. But things could’ve turned ugly, had the protective mother decided to go all the way.

Elephants are social and highly intelligent creatures. Their extreme intelligence drives them to do things for survival that are sometimes astonishing. A coffee plantation owner in the Kutta region of Coorg in Karnataka, once shared an amusing incident of elephants breaking into a patch of land that had jackfruit trees. Jackfruit, when ripe, give out a strong, distinctive odor. To an elephant, with its keen sense of smell, this invitation is too strong to resist. The plantation owner, anticipating this problem, dug trenches to prevent the elephants from picking the jackfruit. Two days later, when he visited the plantation, he was surprised to find great big clods of earth in the trenches. The clever pachyderms had filled a part of the trench with mud, walked over it and heartily tucked into the succulent fruit. Outsmarted, our friend put up an electric fence with mild voltage, to protect the jackfruit. Much to his chagrin, he found one part of the electric fence flattened by a massive log! The wily creatures had uprooted a tree, thrown it over the fence, and walked right through. The hungry, albeit smart, elephants had had the last laugh.

But not all stories are as amusing. Most often than not, man-animal conflict leads to serious and sometimes fatal injuries to one party or both. In Karnataka alone, over 26 people have lost their lives to elephants between 2001 and 2016. The figure, however, is debatable and the casualties are on both sides. Victims of rapid urbanization, elephants have died of electrocution from high voltage fences that are erected to keep them out or succumbed to cyanide poisoning by distraught farmers who have lost their crops. The root cause of this problem can be traced back to the 1960s when the Hemavathi Reservoir submerged crucial elephant habitat amounting to nearly 22,000 acres. Lush green forests were replaced by roads, railway lines, and agricultural land. Devoid of their natural food and living space, it’s unsurprising that elephants head straight to paddy and sugarcane fields to satisfy their enormous appetite. The areas surrounding Karnataka’s Hassan district have become the hotbed for human-elephant conflict. Despite capturing and relocating the rampaging elephants, they often come back to forests that are familiar to them. The personnel from the forest department are at their wit's end, trying to find a solution that works for the human as well as the animal population.

Destroying vital elephant corridors, human habitation around buffer zones, and disregarding the sacred laws of the jungle are among the biggest reasons for the grim state of affairs in our jungles. Today, the need of the hour is to find solutions, rather than lament over the damage that we’ve caused over the years.

Davidar’s dream of the Western Ghats, unmolested by man’s selfish needs, may be distant, but it is not altogether impossible. If each one of us strives to protect and preserve the natural world that we’re part of, it may not be impossible after all, to live in a world where man and beast exist in perfect harmony.

The River Rafting Misadventure

It was a day I'll never forget; water gushing from all sides, threatening to take us along with it, while we stood there helplessly for nearly two hours. It was one of those moments in life when one thinks, “these things happen to someone else”. Only this time, that “someone one else” was me and the six other people in the raft.

How did we get into such a predicament?

Well, the monsoons were in full swing in South India when my husband and I decided to head to Coorg for a short vacation. It was supposed to be a typical road trip, relaxing, lazy and away from our usual routine. Now when I look back, relaxing may not be the most appropriate word to describe it. Let me fast-forward to day two, when we drove down to the Barapole river from Kutta town in Coorg where we were staying.

We'd heard to much about white water rafting and weren't going to miss the chance to try it. For those of you who haven’t heard of it, Barapole is a turbulent river that winds along the beautiful jungles of the Bramhagiri Wild Life Sanctuary before joining the Arabian sea. With more than Class 2 and Class 4 rapids, it's the adrenaline-junkie's wet dream and the aquaphobic's worst nightmare. This is because these rapids offer the most challenging rafting opportunity along the 4 kilometer stretch, which ideally lasts for an approximate two hours.

Helmets and lifejackets on, it was time to paddle away. The river, brimming with the recent rains, beckoned us as we followed the instructor's commands to “row forward” and “row backwards”. As part of the training, before we hit the rapids, we were required to jump overboard in order to familiarize ourselves with the water, and understand how to stay float with the lifejackets on. Despite being an average swimmer, I needed several minutes of persuasion and coaxing before I jumped in. The cold, dark water hit me hard. My breathing started to tighten because my first reaction was panic. Around me I saw that the everyone else was calmly floating and enjoying themselves, and I immediately felt ashamed. These people couldn't even swim! The moment of panic passed and we hopped aboard again and set off towards the real challenge – the rapids. One of the most important and life-saving lessons we all learnt when we were in the river is how to use lifejackets. The key to staying alive is facing upwards, and letting you arms and legs loose. No matter what, never go face down into the water.

Our raft bobbed up and down as we negotiated the first rapid. The water gushed in as our instructor yelled “get in”, and in one swift movement we locked our paddles between the rope and our hands and kept our heads down until we passed the first one successfully. I wasn't afraid, because I figured the instructor knew what to do and appeared to be in full control. After all, he did this several times a day.

Rapid two. This one taught us never to take nature's fury for granted. Besides my husband and I, and the instructor, our little team included another 30-something couple and two single men. We were almost out of the rocky stretch of the river, when suddenly our raft lodged itself between three huge rocks. To make matters worse, another raft came charging towards us at full speed and hit us with such force that it created the “hammer and nail” effect. We were now completely and firmly stuck between the rocks. No one realized the extent of danger we were in. In a matter of seconds, our raft was completely filled with water. The only other option was to get off and stand on the rocks and try to dislodge the raft. The slippery rocks didn't help. One misstep meant getting washed away.

Try as we might, the raft didn't budge an inch. For the first time we realized our expert, let me call him Mr K to make narration easy, was absolutely clueless! The only other woman besides me in the raft looked absolutely terrified. Truth be told, none of us felt very brave either. Another thirty minutes passed, and we hadn't moved an inch. I looked around me, and saw the other raft that had pushed us into the rocks at a distance. The instructor on the second raft, equipped with only a whistle to communicate, was frantically waving his arms trying to tell us something. Meanwhile, realizing how much trouble we were in, another one of the tour organizers (I'm going to call him Mr. S) stood on one side of the river bank and tried tossing a rope towards us. The idea was to rappel to safety because the stubborn raft refused to move! The distance between the raft and the river bank was too great for Mr. S's rope to reach us. After several failed attempts, Mr. S decided to wade into the water and then try to toss the rope. This time it worked. Mr. K managed to catch hold of it and looked around to see which one of us was going to be the guinea pig. I don't know if it was her slight frame or the sheer terror in her eyes that made her the obvious, albeit unfortunate, choice. As we watched, Mr. K fixed one end of her lifejacket to the rope and urged her to cross over. No sooner was she in the water, when the rope slipped from Mr.S's hand. She was completely at the mercy of the river! We watched in shock and horror as she was swept downstream, her hands and legs thrashing about as she tried to come up for air. Lessons forgotten, face down, she rapidly swallowed water until she all but stopped moving. I can still hear her husband's heart wrenching screams when I close my eyes. All this while, Mr. K stood rooted to the spot. No attempts made to rescue her, because they assumed she was a lost cause. Realizing it was up to us amateurs to do something, we caught hold of the other end of the rope and started to pull her lifeless body towards us. She was like deadwood, as she came closer and closer. My heart was thumping in my chest as I prayed like I've never prayed before. We just hoped she was alive. Mr. K, at last coming to his senses, helped us haul her to the rock and thumped her on the back, until she coughed and spat water. She was alive! Too stunned to speak and in shock, but alive. Her husband was hysterical, poor bloke. But it wasn't over yet. We were still on the rock and the raft was still lodged firmly. I'd like to believe that the near-drowing of that poor woman brought some senses back into Mr. K's head. A sudden idea dawned on him that he should perhaps let some of the air out of the raft to lighten it enough for us to be able to tip it over and drain out the water. It worked!

After 2 horrifying hours, filled with morbid thoughts, there was finally some hope. The raft dislodged, we paddled back to the safety. We were soaking wet, rattled, but alive. As I stepped off the raft, onto solid ground, the gravity of the situation sank in. Those were two of the longest hours of our lives, where nothing else mattered. Hugging each other, we parted ways, the relief evident on our faces. As I walked, barefoot, holding my husband's hand tight, I realized that I had never felt more alive!

Quick Facts

Where to Stay: Kutta, Coorg. Plenty of home-stays available

Distance from Bangalore: Approximately 236 kilometers

Route to Take: Bangalore – Srirangapatna- Hunsur – Nagarhole – Kutta

Places to Visit: Nagarhole National Park, Tholpetty Wildlife Reserve, Irupu Falls, Thiunelly Temple, Barapole River Rafting ( At your own risk)