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. 

Nandi Hills: A Bird Watcher's Paradise

Back in the 80’s and some part of the early 90’s, Bangalore was a city that operated at an unhurried, relaxed pace. The lack of malls and shopping centers meant that weekends were spent either climbing trees in Lalbagh or riding the emancipated ponies in Cubbon Park. We’d wait for the summer holidays because this meant a special treat in the form of a day trip to Nandi Hills. We’d squeeze into my uncle’s vintage car and drive up, stopping multiple times either because the radiator threatened to erupt like a volcano or someone had motion sickness. Once we were afflicted with the disease called ‘growing up’, no one had the time nor inclination to drive to this picturesque piece of paradise.

Bulbul 

So nearly 20 years later, I revisited this holiday destination from my childhood at the behest of my husband, who’d never been here before. Of course, it would’ve been silly to expect the place to look the same. That said, the degree of change amazed me. To begin with, I was very surprised at the sheer number of people who’d thronged to watch the sunrise or check out Tippu Sultan’s summer retreat. Our agenda for the trip was, however, something else.  

Armed with our cameras, we broke away from the crowd and began exploring the vegetation for birds. I’d heard from a couple of our friends that Nandi Hills was a great place to photograph birds.  Although we heard a cacophony of bird calls, spotting them wasn’t easy because they’d hop onto to the highest branch at the slightest sound of a human voice. Apparently, some of the birds that are endemic to the Western Ghats are found here. Eager to leave the people and the innumerable monkeys behind, we looked for quieter places where we’d most likely find our feathered friends. Soon we found ourselves in a nursery attached to a small park. Attracted by the chirping and singing from within the trees, we tiptoed inside and stayed absolutely silent.

The Paradise Flycatcher

Sure enough, our patience paid off and we managed to get some wonderful shots of a bird that had long eluded us  - the Paradise Flycatcher. Although we’ve been on many trips to the jungles along the Western Ghats of Karnataka, somehow this species of the Flycatcher has dodged all our attempts to capture it. Little did we know that there was one right in the backyard of the city. We managed to get some beautiful shots of not just the Paradise Flycatcher, but also a couple of other birds including a Tickell’s Blue Flycatcher, some Bulbuls, and a Grey-collard Oriole, among a host of beautiful birds that throng the hills. If you’re into some serious birding, then you’d understand when I say that this is just the tip of the iceberg. There are so many species of birds that have made Nandi Hills their home, and we’re yet to photograph more than half, giving us all the more reason to come back.

That said, if birding is not your thing, then you could do a little bit of time travel as well. While the crumbling relics do little to take you back in time, they stand testimony to what was once Tippu’s Tashk-e-Janant that translates to the Envy of Heaven. The initial construction was started by his father, Hyder Ali, and later completed by his son. Following a quick glimpse at the summer rest house, we headed to the famous Tippu Drop. It is believed that prisoners condemned to die were forced down the 600-meter cliff. As the crowds started to build up, we decided it was time for us to head home. Before we decided to call it a day, we did check out the lovely nursery that was, unfortunately on that day, closed to visitors.

Nandi Hills has something for everyone. Fitness aficionados can hike along the numerous paths that traverse through the hills or join one of the cycling clubs that offer customized packages. You also have the Nandi Temple that’s dedicated to Bhoganandishwara and Yoganandeeshwara, and of course, a number of places to sip a hot cup of coffee during winters or a cold soda in the sweltering summers, although I wouldn’t recommend picnics, considering how audacious the monkeys are. Speaking of monkeys, I remember this rather amusing incident from when I was a little girl. A large group comprising my parents, grandparents, various aunts and cousins planned a picnic in Nandi Hills. No sooner did we open the food hamper, a dozen monkeys screamed and bared their teeth from the trees above, although they didn’t dare come down owing to the size of our group. This, however, did not deter the monkeys from calling out and watching the hamper from a safe distance. This continued for a few minutes, while my family, ignoring the bedlam, heartily tucked in.

This angered the monkeys who were used to terrorizing the smaller groups into parting with their food. One of the more enterprising ones then decided that he’d relieve himself from above. For reasons of privacy and respect for my family, I will not name who the recipient of the unwelcome shower was, but it was enough to send us scurrying into the car, packing the leftovers in a hurry.

Nandi Hills holds some fond memories for me. It is a reminder that not all vacations require complex planning and traveling all over the country or the world. If you’re looking for a quick and affordable getaway or some good locations for serious birding, there are several picturesque locations at a distance of between 60 to 100 kilometers from Bangalore that are ideal. The best part of such vacations is that they don’t burn your wallet!

  

The Unsung Heroes of our Jungles - Part III

The problem of human-animal conflict is one that has plagued conservationists, forest dwellers, those living around reserves, as well as the animals for years. According to the environment ministry, encounters with wildlife saw approximately 1,144 human deaths between April 2014 and May 2017. Although the debate continues, a plausible solution to this challenge does not seem near. 

A leopard leaps off a branch in Nagarahole

Confined to grasslands and dwindling forests, the animals are driven to the fringes in search of food and territorial space. This, most often than not, spells trouble for the animals and the people residing in and around the jungles. Elephants, for instance, are extremely intelligent and shy. Given a choice, they prefer to stay deep inside the vegetation, feasting on succulent bamboo and grass. However, destruction of their natural habitat and crucial elephant corridors has resulted in these majestic creatures venturing out into the open and stumbling onto the paddy and sugarcane fields and in the process, realizing the easy availability of food. From railway tracks to fields and highways, elephants meet a ghastly, untimely end. Then there’s the problem of leopards straying onto highways, or even backyards of those who have homes bordering around forests; although, it’s comparatively rare for a tiger to venture into human habitation, unless looking for cattle. That said, tigers rarely molest human beings. This, I have spoken at length in one of my earlier blogs; so I’d be digressing if I dwell on this subject further.

The increase in incidents of human-animal conflict in recent times put forth a lot of uncomfortable questions, questions that no one has convincing answers to. Yet, it’s not all bad news. Tribal rehabilitation programs, a subject I had touched upon in my previous blog, are underway in Karnataka, while the state’s forest department has left no stone unturned in their effort to minimize the instances of animals in our backyards. So what happens when a wild boar or perhaps a leopard enters private property?

“Once we have confirmation that the information is 99% accurate, our team immediately swings into action, to remove the animal from the property and release it into the forest with as little trauma as possible,” explained a forest officer from the Karnataka Forest Department.

 

The jewel of Nagarhole

With people venturing deep into the jungles in search of firewood and food, the risk of chancing upon a tusker or a tiger is high. This, coupled with the rapid urbanization, means this problem isn’t going away anytime soon. Armed with walkie-talkies, mobile phones, and in the case of beat guards, and above, guns, personnel from the forest department patrol the forests regularly. It’s a tough job indeed; for they not only have to reduce human interference and watch out for forest fires, but also keep their eyes and ears open for poachers.

Speaking of poaching, this is a menace that has plagued the jungles of India since time immemorial. Always on the alert, the guards and foresters patrol national parks and reserves, looking out for suspicious activity and information on poachers. Be it Karnataka or any other forests in India, the demand for ivory, tiger skin and other body parts, as well as game meat has kept anti-poaching squads on their toes. Although, with the formation of the Special Tiger Protection Force, the instances of poaching in prime tiger and elephant reserves has reduced considerably. The Nagarhole Tiger Reserve, for instance, has 30 Anti-Poaching Camps. The beat guards, while on duty, are expected to report everything from animals that have died of natural causes or those who might have been killed by poachers, to the illegal felling of trees. Tracking software and GPS enabled mobiles automatically upload and share the recorded data with the range officer, thereby eliminating the need for manual reports and reducing the margin for error. Additionally, the placement of camera traps and the influx of tourism in certain areas, along with the Central Government’s blessing to protect and preserve what’s left of our wildlife and the green cover, have given the much-needed shot in the arm to the department’s wildlife protection efforts. Another smart move employed by the government is the inclusion of the locals and the tribal people in their anti-poaching drives and forest preservation plans.

I’ve spoken to numerous naturalists attached to various reserves throughout south and some places in central India, and all of them say the same thing; by offering the locals, jobs within the forest department, involving them in anti-poaching and forest protection drives, the government solves two problems at once. First, people have jobs, and second, with at least one member of each family employed by the department, the local population remains invested in conversation and protection efforts; this means the poachers lose local protection and assistance. There are many who poke holes into this plan, but I think it’s a start. Going by the teeming herbivore population in our jungles, and the increased probability of spotting a tiger or leopard in the wild, I’d say the efforts certainly seemed to be paying off.

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.

The Unsung Heroes of our Jungles: Part I

Most of my blogs, so far, have been about my experiences in the jungles of India. The handsome tigers, shy leopards, elephants, wild dogs, or be it any denizen of the forests, my fascination with them is such that they end up as critical aspects of my writing.

Indeed, as a wildlife enthusiast and tourist, I have enjoyed being driven around in safari jeeps, anticipating a pleasant surprise behind a bend, above a tree, or perhaps, by a watering hole. That’s me, the tourist.

At the Nagarhole Checkpost

This time, at the recommendation from one of my readers, I decided that I would take off the tourist hat for a short while, and see the jungles from a different perspective. A perspective that would help me understand the relentless handwork, passion and true love for the jungles that keeps the unsung heroes from the forest department going every single day.

Let’s start with one of Karnataka’s most popular tiger reserves - Nagarahole. The Nagarhole Tiger Reserve, also known as Rajiv Gandhi National Park, witnesses heavy tourist footfall throughout the year. In summer, people from all over the country, and sometimes the world, brave the scorching heat to capture a prized picture of tigers drinking from a watering hole. The summer of 2017, in particular, was unforgiving. The lack of timely rains meant that most of the smaller water bodies were parched. If you’ve visited the popular Tiger Tank at Nagarhole, you surely must have noticed the solar panels, just before the tank. These solar panels are erected to pump water into the smaller water bodies from the borewells maintained by the forest department. During particularly harsh summer months, the personnel from the Karnataka Forest Department not only have to ensure adequate water supply for the animals, but watch out for forest fires, and sometimes put their lives in peril trying to prevent the fires from spreading.

It’s remarkable what it takes to keep the jungles and the tourists safe. Besides setting up anti-poaching camps at strategic locations within the reserves and patrolling in jeeps, motorcycles and on foot, the personnel from the forest department have to deal with another menace that plagues modern civilization these days.

An elephant crosses the busy Mysore- Ooty highway that passes through Bandipur

The “selfie” menace has caught on with an alarming fervor. Almost every day we hear of people run over by trains or falling off buildings, in a bid to gratify their narcissistic desires. Unfortunately, this is a problem that has spread to the jungles as well. Most recently, the newspapers carried an article on a man in Odisha who was trampled to death by an elephant while taking a selfie. On my last trip to Bandipur, I remember a group of noisy men who’d parked at the edge of the highway to Ooty, only to take selfies and yell incomprehensibly at passers-by. Luckily for them, a couple of forest guards on patrol put an end to the cacophony before something untoward happened. I call them lucky because, only 15 minutes after they left, a lone tusker passed the exact spot. Had they still been around, the consequences could’ve been tragic.

Another time, again on the Bandipur-Ooty highway, a couple of tourists were reprimanded by the forest guards for feeding spotted deer with chips! Herbivores such as sambar deer, spotted deer and elephants gather at salt licks or mineral licks inside the reserves to lick essential mineral nutrients from a deposit of salts and other minerals. Sometimes the forest guards create artificial salt licks at strategic points deep inside the forests, so that the animals replenish their sodium reserves by licking the salt off the rocks. The poor, unassuming deer, attracted by the scent of salt and comfortable with human presence, end up eating something that they’re clearly not supposed to.

Besides controlling unruly tourists, poaching, which is rampant in the jungles of India, is a big challenge for the forest department. One morning in January 2017, I woke up to the news that 14 poachers, comprising software engineers, environmental consultants and coffee estate owners, were apprehended by forest department personnel attached to the Bhadra Tiger Reserve. They shot two sambar deer for the meat, the accused confessed. Sometimes it’s the meat, sometimes the skin, the tusks, or various body parts that are believed to be aphrodisiacs - the poaching menace continues to keep the protectors of the forest on the toes. That said, had it not been for the vigilance of the forest department, our forests would be stripped of the diverse, rich, and beautiful flora and fauna.

So, the next time you visit a protected reserve, you might just notice someone, along with his team, quietly working in the background. This man is the RFO or the Range Forest Officer, who’s doing everything he can to ensure the generation after us enjoys the serenity of the jungles as much as we do.

Footnote: I found it impossible to cover everything that the Karnataka Forest Department does in a single blog. As such, I decided it would be best to divide the blog into a three-part series in my attempt to do some justice to their hard work and perseverance. Watch this space for the next blog in this series, where I’ll cover tribal rehabilitation and tourism management in wildlife reserves.

The Trusting Tigers of Nagarhole

In a tropical country like India, summer is the best time to spot wildlife and study animal behavior. The acute water scarcity and intense heat bring thirsty animals to river banks and watering holes for a quick drink, making it easier for naturalists and wildlife enthusiasts to observe and photograph the denizens of the forest. Wild cats such as tigers and leopards, which are usually brilliantly camouflaged in the thick vegetation, are easier to spot when the trees are nearly bare and dry.

The power-line subadult male

Karnataka, which has been victim to an unkind monsoon and a harsh summer, witnessed a marked rise in wildlife tourism this year. The recent forest fire that ravaged the Bandipur Tiger Reserve and the connecting jungles, has done little to impact ecotourism. Tourists continue to throng the jungles, desperate to catch a glimpse of the elusive leopard, the majestic tiger, or maybe an elephant herd.

I’ve been touring the Western Ghats for the last ten years, and never have I seen as many tigers and leopards on a single trip as I did on my recent visit to the Nagarhole Tiger Reserve in Karnataka. The flipside to the unrelenting heat, of course, is the adverse effect on the wildlife. The Kabini River is the lifeline of Nagarhole. Although reduced to half its volume, this crucial waterbody continues to be an important source of water for the residents of the jungle. However, the lack of water in the Bandipur area of the forest has driven most of the thirsty herbivores towards Kabini and the smaller watering holes in Nagarhole, while the highly territorial tigers and leopards continue to struggle with scant prey in Bandipur. Meanwhile, the Nagarhole cats have sufficient to eat, but not as many watering bodies to wallow in or quench their thirst.

The Backwater female

I had the fortune to observe some important aspects of tiger behavior this summer. A young tiger, for instance, popularly known as the Powerline Cub, is a sub-adult male born to a tigress that lives and frequents the power line that runs through the Nagarhole Reserve. Most tigers that are born and raised around the buffer area that’s earmarked for tourism, aren’t afraid of safari jeeps or the sound of human voices. They consider these sounds as a very normal part of their existence. The powerline cub was no different. Indifferent to the safari jeeps and the noise from the camera shutters, this handsome cat lolled lazily in the sparse grass. He barely glanced our way, and rolled on his belly until he found a comfortable spot to ‘cat nap’! There was another such instance, where we observed a tigress scent-mark her territory right in front of our jeep. Unperturbed by our presence, she continued marking the trees before disappearing into the thick lantana that’s enveloped what’s left of the vegetation. So mesmerized were we, by the tigress’ presence that we failed to see a leopard, cowering fearfully on a treetop, waiting for its feared feline cousin to leave. It was only when the naturalist’s trained eye caught some movement on a large tree did we notice the beautiful leopard staring at us with its soulful eyes. After ensuring that the tigress had left the vicinity, the leopard leaped off the tree and bounded away, presumably to a safer part of the jungle.

The tigers residing in the buffer zone of Nagarhole are so comfortable with human presence that one tigress blissfully napped close to a small watering hole, while we furiously photographed her. She threw a lazy glance or two our way a couple of times; but not once did she attempt to leave or appeared bothered by our presence. Although their familiarity with safari jeeps is unsurprising, I am not sure if the same holds good for people who run into a tiger while walking through the jungles. One of the two things is likely to happen. The tiger will either beat a hasty retreat or if curious, will come closer to explore. Contrary to the popular myth, tigers don’t attack humans unless provoked or driven into a corner. Their natural prey comprises deer, gaur, and other members of the herbivore family. They’d rather leave the two-legged humans alone.

This comfort that the tigers in protected areas have with humans, I believe, can be the bane of their existence. Going against the very instinct that teaches them to keep away from human beings, these tigers are gradually trusting us as a natural part of their ecology, making them highly vulnerable to poachers. Instead of bolting at the sound of voices or human scent, they stay. Does this make them easy targets? Are we interfering more than necessary? Do we realize that each time we drive or trek through a forest, we might just be meddling with their natural habitat?

For the generations in the future to enjoy the gifts of the jungle, wildlife tourism should be carefully controlled and closely monitored. Although it’s definitely a shot in the arm for the tourism industry and for conservation efforts, overdoing it could disturb this delicate balance that preserves the flora and fauna of the protected jungles. Karnataka, for one, has been reasonably successful in preserving its forests and the creatures that dwell in them. Although the man-animal conflict continues to plague the areas that border the jungles, it’s also heartening to know that much is being done towards the preservation of biodiversity in the state. Part of the Project Tiger conservation program launched by the Indian Government in the early 70s, Karnataka’s Nagarhole, Bandipur, Bhadra, Dandeli and Biligiri Rangaswamy Temple reserves boast a healthy and thriving tiger and leopard population, in addition to other critical species of animals, birds, insects, and plants. As someone who resides barely five hours away from these wonderful forests, I take great comfort from the fact that somewhere, some tiger is on a hunt right now, or a leopard is lazily perched on a tree, and perhaps an elephant herd is contentedly splashing around in a watering hole.

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.