| |
Vivek
Menon
On a Manhunt
When Vivek
Menon talks, you freeze. It's not just his pent-up passion-it's a combination
of the volume (he's by far the loudest in the room), his fluctuating tonal
stresses, his large unblinking eyes that keep you in focus and a brutal
frankness that bludgeons you. Here's a man who wills you to listen.
But you're
listening anyway-because he's furiously blowing the whistle on poaching.
Menon's biggest contribution to wildlife has been to detail how poacher
gangs operate. His research, which often involves contacting the underworld,
setting up deals, then seizing the merchandise and getting the poachers
arrested, is like a handbook of how poachers kill and send the merchandise
to other countries through clandestine trade routes. Over the years, Menon's
efforts have helped bring down rhino poaching to about 30 a year (down
from 50). More importantly, he played an integral role in re-enforcing
an international trade ban on ivory which was lifted in 1997. That year
we lost 120 elephants. Today, with the ban in place we lose up to 70 a
year.
Menon feels
the bigger problem is that the Government plays deaf when it comes to
wildlife. No matter. Menon, who now runs an NGO, clocks in 24 hours fighting
it out himself. One area of focus is the impoverished, ill-equipped and
miserable lot of forest guards who, armed with lathis, are expected to
take on poachers with AK-47s. Menon, with his colleagues, holds regular
camps motivating them, teaching them how to file legal cases against poachers,
giving them infrastructure like jeeps and uniforms and even setting up
a "Van Rakshak" award. "No, we should not give up hope.
We should believe there is still a chance to keep our treasures intact,"
he says.
-Vijay
Jung Thapa
K.M.
Chinappa
Anointing the Young
There may
come a time in the not-too-distant future when children would only get
to see a tusker as Jungle Book's Colonel Haathi--a cartoon figure. But
not if good men like K.M. Chinappa can help it. A forester by profession,
he has dedicated his life to sparking the imaginations of little minds
in the wild. The core of Chinappa's philosophy is simple: keep children
interested in wildlife-they will be the future guardians of our forests.
So almost like a religious ritual Chinappa everyday, like the Pied Piper
of Nagarhole in Karnataka, leads groups of children deep into the forests,
explaining the basics of what biodiversity really means and why we need
to save it.
It wasn't
always like this, though. Son of a small-time coffee planter of Kakoor
village in Kodagu district, Chinappa worked in the Nagarhole forest area
for nearly 40 years until he voluntarily retired. And he was a legend
in his time. He had, through sheer motivation, transformed his not-so-well-organised
guards into highly effective anti-poaching patrols. Unlike a lot of foresters,
he had a deep conviction that forests were meant for animals and nothing
else. It is now part of recorded history that his career was fraught with
all kinds of struggles against poachers, the timber mafia and local contractors.
And people haven't forgotten that. Says well-known wildlife biologist
Ulhas Karanth: "People like Chinappa are the ones in the frontline
of protecting our animals."
And so it
goes, on and on. Chinappa moves with a band of his colleagues all over
the state helping children comprehend why tigers are related to water-catchment
or why elephants strip the bark off trees. As these children weave their
weary way home, their young minds firmly imprinted with the need to save
the tiger, Chinappa smiles. "That's what I want to do-keep moving,
keep teaching." Tomorrow, it will be another village and another
set of children.
-Stephen
David
Raghu
Chundawat
Conservation Catalyst
Under the
bright lights in a big city, Raghu Chundawat, wildlife scientist, is awkwardly
shy. But it's completely misleading. For there is an animation and vibrancy
that lie restless under the exterior. The magic word is big cats. Speak
of them and he is suddenly energised; walk with him in the wilderness
and every sense, once seeming dull, is on full alert. He will cock his
ear to a sound you haven't heard, hold you back from treading on a pug
mark. This is his domain, this is where he is best evaluated.
Growing
up as a kid in Mandsaur, Madhya Pradesh, he had his heart set on being
a cricketer till he saw an alluring advertisement seeking volunteers for
a survey on snow leopards. By the end, the "grey ghost" of the
Himalayas hooked him and made him opt for a PhD on snow leopards -leading
to a seminal study on the elusive creature. Chundawat now battles hard
to save the snow leopard's habitat- his study having determined that there
is, contrary to extant information, a sizeable population in the trans-Himalayan
region. But that's changing fast. His efforts are directed towards bringing
more snow-leopard habitats under the protected areas network and extending
the existing ones with varied success. For 50 snow leopards in the trans-Himalayan
region to exist in peace, an area of 1,275 sq km is considered viable.
"What I'm trying to do is build a blueprint for the survival of the
snow leopard," he says.
-Vijay
Jung Thapa
Biswajit
Mohanty
Turning Turtle
He made
the leap from wildlife lover to wildlife activist while getting an innocuous
haircut in a Cuttack saloon. Somebody in the saloon was talking about
tiger skins that were up for sale and Biswajit Mohanty, whose ears pricked
up, quickly joined the conversation. Before he knew it, he was sucked
into a shadowy world full of criminals in the wildlife trade. After five
months of relentless pursuit, the trail finally ended up in a Bhubaneswar
hut in which lay hidden a rich haul of 21 leopard skins. By then, Mohanty,
a practising chartered accountant, knew his life would never be the same.
Today, five
years later into a new profession, Mohanty and the Wildlife Society of
Orissa have grown in stature and earned enough goodwill to become household
names. And one of the main reasons is Mohanty's sterling protection work
done on those mysterious, endangered creatures called Olive Ridley Turtles.
Till a while back, death used to pockmark the golden sands of Gahirmatha
where thousands of these turtles would come every year to lay their eggs.
Slashed by the propeller blades of fishing trawlers or caught in fishing
nets, the death toll of the turtles from 1991 to 1996 was 50,000. In the
next two years, even as Mohanty and his colleagues started Operation Kachchap
the turtles had turned wise, they just did not show up. But last year,
as if to reward his efforts, the turtles (2.5 lakh of them) returned.
Mohanty's relentless patrolling, banning trawler activity during nesting
and ensuring fishing nets have specialised turtle extruder devices-all
made a difference. Says Mohanty: "The Ridleys can breathe easy now."
Their tribe is poised to multiply.
-Ruben
Banerjee
Subroto
Pal Chowdhury
Trouble Shooter
With his
pudgy face crinkling in a smile, eyes disappearing behind voluminous cheeks,
a rotund belly thrust forward, he doesn't look like a hero and refuses
to believe he's one. He even has difficulty defining his job. His card
says, "Technical Assistant, West Bengal wildlife wing". But
that says little about a man best known as the "trouble shooter"
for disturbed animals all over the country.
In an era
where humans today live cheek by jowl with animals, conflicts between
them are increasingly on the rise. Animals, especially the bigger ones,
stumble into human territory, creating havoc. But Subroto Pal Chowdhury
handles them all with ease. To date, he has helped 55 elephants, 13 rhinos,
a clutch of big cats, monkeys and deer-which strayed into "civilisation"
- by tranquillising them and releasing them back into the wild. He's helped
an elephant calf that fell into a well, even lowered a table fan "so
it wouldn't suffocate". He has rescued a tigress stuck on top of
a 25-ft-tall date tree by stretching a net below - "she landed with
the grace of a trapeze artist". He's carried a dolphin caught in
a lockgate in the Damodar river in a soft nylon hammock all the way to
the Ganga - "I had to hose it down right through the seven-hour drive".
Chowdhury
loves his job as it needs constant innovation and a keen understanding
of animal psychology. "I guess I'm a wildlifer," he says laughing,
"serving out a life term in the wilds."
-Labonita
Ghosh
K.N.
Changappa
Herd Instinct
How do you
define this man? Planter, estate manager, or conservationist? To the 9,000-odd
Mudhuvan tribals and the one lakh-plus Tata Tea employees and their families
in Munnar's rolling High Ranges, K.N. Changappa is liked, respected, feared,
a man who could move mountains if he willed. To the 900 endangered Nilgiri
TAHRs (mountain goats) at the Eravikulam National Park in Munnar (home
to more than half the world's population of TAHRs), he's an undisputed
saviour, a man whose touch can be reassuring against the stabbing cold
of the hills.
But for
the unbridled, no-compromises campaigning of the 54-year-old conservationist-senior
manager of Tata's tea estates in Munnar-Eravikulam, the only viable habitat
of the Nilgiri TAHR in the world, would have been long wiped out. Until
one man stepped in and decided to harness corporate support for wildlife.
In 1975, Eravikulam was just a sanctuary with a depleting TAHR population.
Mostly through his efforts, Eravikulam today is a national sanctuary and
is the only park in the country which is jointly run and patrolled by
the Forest Department and the High Range Wildlife and Environment Preservation
Association, made by Tata Tea employees. Says Changappa: "My greatest
achievement is winning the confidence of every animal I am protecting."
-Methil
Renuka
Top
|
|