The Forest Guard

This is their story. A story of willful walking. They form the lowest rung in the rigid hierarchy of the Forest Department, but theirs is the toughest. They walk through unimaginable terrains, throwing away their lives to unpredictable dangers for terribly long durations. The more fortunate guards may have a radio, but others live far away from home, in the middle of a forest, on top of a hill, that is inaccessible to those without reason. What motivates them to do this ungrateful job? Why would anyone want to accept this pathetic life? How do they do it?

A ‘Conservation Practices and Management’ tour to Protected Areas (PAs) in South India instigated my curiosity in trying to understand such questions. In my quest for answers, however incomplete, I interacted with forest guards, walked a little of the beats they monitor, experienced a little of their lives and shared some stories with them. From the few days spent in the many PAs we visited, the only unanimous answer seemed to be unbelievable. Guards and Rangers protecting forests in Kerala and Tamil Nadu seemed to be doing just that, for nothing else but passion and love for the forests and the beings that live in them. They did not actively ask for anything, their basic rights included, unless prodded by those of us who have the power to provide and who care enough to ask.

Imagine this. You are an anti-poaching watcher. You have to walk an average of 15km every day through the wet evergreen forests of the Western Ghats. The terrain is tough as hell, full of leeches and many other things that can make your life miserable. You have basic clothes on (if you’re lucky, you have shoes, otherwise its slippers), your weapon is a stout stick, you have 3 companions and you have to carry basic provisions for the next 2 weeks. Remember, any vegetables are bound to rot in 2 days. Among the 4 of you, there is 1 gun with some bullets, in case of a sudden encounter with elephants and any other equally dangerous situation. At the end of every day, you make a ‘shelter’ with 2 poles, a sheet above, 2 sheets on the ground and 1 sheet to cover yourself. You cook every night, eat the left-overs for an early breakfast and start walking again. There is no lunch. Your monthly salary is Rs.2,500 with no leave (except 2-3 days maybe for emergencies) and yours is not a permanent job. You haven’t got your salary in the last 6 months. Your home is 1 day away and you have to walk 7km and take 2 buses, which technically means even if you get to go home, it’ll be for a day, maximum. You have a wife, a small child and your parents to look after. Would you continue working as an anti-poaching watcher? How long do you think you would last? I know I wouldn’t last more than 2 weeks.

This is the true story of many of the men we met. Some are boys, around 20yrs but, they are indeed men. They are all chock-full of complaints about all the promised things they don’t get and how they miss their families. Yet, if you ask them why they continue to work, without a thought, they say that being in the forest, walking untrodden paths, and living a simple life gives them joy. Above all, ever so compassionately, they say that they do it for the protection of the forest and all the life it embraces. I initially found this very hard to believe. After all, they too are human beings with feelings, longings and wishes. But this was the consistent answer I got everywhere I went. There is another conviction that human beings are endowed with. Hope. Maybe it is hope that is walking with them, supporting them, carrying them, caring about them and nudging them towards the next sunrise. Maybe they bestow their senior officers, the Department, the Government and hence the people of the country, with immense trust. It might be characteristic of a simple man to be generous with his trust but trust is one of the most difficult virtues to uphold.

Maybe the story is similar in other PAs in India, even in other parts of the world. The least we can do is listen to them. Give them the self-respect that they seek. Try to understand at least a little of what they experience. Smile and laugh with them. Let them know that they are not alone in their crusade. You will be richly rewarded, as I have been, with a story and some wisdom that might have otherwise eluded you.

Hunger to Holocaust

A few centuries ago, the purpose was subsistence. To remain alive, feed yourself and your progeny. Needless to say, commercialization rules the world today and the most evolved brains are perpetually unearthing innovative ways and means to cater to their species by using, or more correctly, abusing other species. We have come to crave the strangest plant and animal parts, simply to satiate our slurping tongues.

It is only natural that change occurs and adaptations arise. With the rapid transition from the use of ancient hunting tools to the wielding of arms in hobbies like game hunting, greed grew in the hearts of men until it was too late. Today, there are so few wild plants and animals remaining. The luxury to kill for food or fun no longer exists. Take the case of fishing. Traditionally, fishing equipment was species-specific, fisher folk would not harvest during the breeding season of fish and consumers would not buy pregnant fish. Now, 40% of catch is thrown back into the sea, unusable and dead. Even the most efficient equipment cannot meet the requirements of the world and therefore commercial farms came into being where fish are bred and fed. Haryana produces the largest quantity of fish per hectare and the state is far away from any ocean! This inevitably leads to a loss of livelihood for traditional local fisher folk and they sink into deeper poverty. And then when people want exotic delicacies like shark fin soup, you don’t know whether you’re eating farmed or wild shark body parts. One kilogram of Great White Shark fin is sold at an international price of Rs.50,000 and for those in Chennai (that is Madras), Hotel Runs in Adyar serves shark meat!

We say we are bound by innumerable laws and restrictions that prevent us from exploiting nature but let’s face it. There are also countless ways of bending over and under these rules. If farming is allowed for this species, why not that? And another..and another.. Everybody has their priorities. Tirupathi laddoos are famous world over and they are said to be blessed by God. What you might not know (I definitely didn’t) is that they use Civet musk for fragrance and now want permission to farm civets to cater to their popularity! Leaving aside, just for a moment though, the care and well-being of the animals in captivity, it seems frankly unnecessary. It might even seem unethical to some, but ethics and values are individual beliefs and are varying.

If we are to conserve and protect what remains of our wildlife, both plants and animals, we need to exercise enormous restraint on ourselves. Cut the demand and the supply will dwindle (easier said than done, of course). We need to ceaselessly question ourselves each time we want something – “Is it really necessary?” Then even if once in a while we pamper ourselves and ignore that question, atleast we won’t feel so guilty!

Warning: The opinions in the article are solely the author’s.

Creeping Crawling Creatures

They look slimy and ugly. They crawl on surfaces and beneath. Their habit is considered as the maximum extreme on the creepiness spectrum. They are the center of wierdness and traditional myths. Those who exhibit sustained interest in them are considered equally wierd. People in ancient times who developed strong life bonds with them, due to societal ostracization were called witches and they were often associated with 'darkness' and were said to enjoy their hidden secret lives. Snakes, lizards, frogs and skinks share all the above stone-pelting without request.

If only we remove our strong prejudices. If only we learn to appreciate all and not select sights around. If only we allow them to be and not slap teasers and curses on them. If only we recognise them also as creatures moulded by the same hands that moulded us. If only we understand that we wouldn't exist if some of them hadn't chosen to evolve. But, if we could do all the above, we wouldn't be human.

They can't fly anymore

As the man runs his fingers through the feathers of the falcon, rapid successive shivers ripple down a student's spine. The fastest among those that have conquered the vast skies, stands rooted to a stump with super-fast glue. The feathers don't move even with slight breeze.

With already open eyes, he stares ahead and wonders why the audience looks familiar. He wonders why he can't fly anymore. He wonders why the human species, as he rightly identifies soon, are staring right back at him. He wonders why he can't feel anything anymore, why he can't move. Confused and lost, he invokes the Lord of the Skies and over the next few seconds, he feels the sensation of a tickle as the fingers continue to stroke his back. He shivers and shudders for just a second and in the next, instinctively spreads his awesome weapons of flight and takes off. He feels the surge of renenwed life, almost ready to rule again. To the bewilderment of the audience, he goes straight into the fan.

Forest on a Forehead – Matheran (28th and 29th March 2009)

A train journey of almost 24 hours from Bangalore to Dadar, allowed me little sleep, little birdwatching through the window, little more reading and plenty of single-sided conversation with a Mumbai local (he was talking and I was pretending to listen). My mother had arranged for a colleague to meet me at the station since I didn’t know anyone there. We found each other, got out of the bustling station, took a taxi and headed towards his home in Bhandup. I met his lovely family, had dinner and couldn’t wait to sleep.

We left the next morning at 06:00, took a local train to Dadar where I was to meet the rest of the group going to Matheran. A motley group consisting of much older people gathered and we took the Deccan Queen and got off at Neral station after 2 hours. In 2 groups of five each, we took taxis till Dasturi, making hairpin bends uphill and providing panoramic views of the plains from above. The drive took half an hour and it was from Dasturi that the Matheran Municipal Council took over. This was the best part – The only hill station in Asia, I think, where no vehicular traffic is allowed. There were plenty of horses around and push-carts too. A toy train from Neral till Matheran is another option but we didn’t plan ahead so didn’t get tickets. The other and best option is to walk; which is what we eventually did. A dusty one and a half hours later, we made it ‘Radha Cottage’, located beyond the market area and the ‘posh’ hotels. Who needs a discotheque in a hotel on a quiet hill station?! I refuse to try and understand!

After a brief breakfast and introduction, 15 of us with experts Dr. Shubhalakshmi and Isaac Kehimkar, set off for the Charlotte Lake to do the ‘pond-dipping’ activity. We looked at all the insects on our way, trying to identify which family it belonged to and learn some taxonomy. Thanks to a butterfly bait (overripe fruits mashed to a paste), Blue Oakleaf butterflies in good number were seen in a drugged/drunken stupor. We did the pond-dipping activity in a small puddle almost and came up with some truly fascinating insects like the water scorpion and the whirligig beetle (which goes round and round on the surface and then dives!)

After tea at 16:15, we set out again on a long walk with little luck with insects. Purposefully avoiding the tourist ‘Points’ like ‘Echo Point’ and ‘Sunset Point’, we wandered along the red mud road, occasionally moving aside to let speeding horses fly by, leaving us to breather the refreshing red dust. The only ‘point’ we were going to was the ‘One Tree Hill Point’, famous for bearing a single tree on a hill. It was tragically funny when we found a medium-sized shrub with a tall flag-tipped pole next to it on a hillock. Thankfully, it was a circuitous route and brought us back hungry and tired.

An enlightening quiz on the events of the day, a slideshow on moths, dinner and some more photos, brought the end of the day and left 6 hours of precious sleep on antique cots.

The next morning, after a heavy breakfast, we set out to the actual lake and though we didn’t see much else new, the walk in good company was a delight. The ‘Oakleaf Point’ as we had christened it, now attracted birds like the White-rumped Shama and some lucky butterflies had ‘v’-shaped bite marks on their wings. Lunch, a small discussion and feedback forms followed, after which 3 of us made a beeline to the market and walked downhill pretty fast. A cab from Dasturi to Neral and a local train from Neral to Dadar left me standing three and a half hours early for my train home.

Vrinda invited me to her house and later we went out for coffee opposite the beach on Carter Road. The Capoera group she has been with for a year were rehearsing the Brazilian martial art form on the beach to a growing crowd and it was a delight to watch them spin on their heads and hands to a constant lively rhythm. We came back to her place at 20:00 and I got dropped at Khar Road station. I bought a ticket to Dadar, thanking my lucky stars for the not-so-crowded-that-I-get-pushed-off train. Chalukya Express was waiting on platform 7 and I downed 2 cups of the best tea ever before boarding.