Ullas Karanth is a quiet, determined, effective defender of the wilds. He is also unarguably one of the world’s finest wildlife biologists. Although first a scientist, he does not hesitate to take on the mantle of an activist and his work is one of the main reasons why the Nagarahole and Bhadra reserves are doing reasonably well. He started out as an engineer, then turned to farming – while working, all along, towards becoming an amateur biologist.
In the last few decades, one of the shining beacons for India’s beleaguered forests and wildlife has been the Supreme Court of India. That is because lawye rs such as Ritwick Dutta have had the stomach and grit to challenge some of the most powerful people in the country. Just 33 years old, Ritwick is a rare ‘species’ in a country that boasts of several environmental and conservation organisations and activists, but few full-time environmental lawyers.
Driven and courageous Forest Rangers like Sasi Kumar are our best hope in the fight against the ruthless illegal wildlife trade, which is taking such a terrible toll on India’s tigers. He works in Wynaad, Kerala where he engages poachers on the ground. At 41 years, Kumar rose from the ranks, starting out on March 1, 1985 as a guard with the Kerala Forest Department in the Kuttiyadi Range, Kozhikode district.
The front line staff of wildlife reserves – daily wagers, guards, foresters and rangers – are seldom credited for helping protect the forests and wildlife they defend every day of their lives. Most live and die in anonymity. Mahouts, or elephant handlers, are even more invisible. In parks as far removed from each other as Corbett, Kaziranga, Rajaji, or Bandipur, mahouts are the eyes and ears, often the very sinews of the forest department.
He was a mere child when his father, a cook, moved to Bharatpur to work for the Maharaja of Bharatpur, who used to hold massive shoots for all manner of dignitaries. Years spent here saw him fall in love with birds that were once shot, and the swamps themselves became part of his soul. His father joined the forest department in 1964 and 12 years later, so did Bholu Abrar Khan.
In an arena dominated by ruthless men, this woman has investigated, explored, networked, fought and researched virtually every aspect of wildlife conservation and is often the source of first information reports on the seamier side of wildlife conservation. She unabashedly wears her heart on her sleeve for India’s forests and its endangered wildlife.
He lives in tiger country. He nurtures young minds. He is the Headmaster of the Bijoynagar Adarsha Vidyamandir (BAV) located on an island called Bali, in the Sundarbans, in West Bengal. Distressed by the deteriorating relationship between people and the tigers of the Sundarbans, he started the Bali Wildlife Conservation Society way back in 1999 and has since been working variously with officials of the Sundarbans Tiger Reserve, the Wildlife Protection Society of India, WWF India and others to secure the future of wildlife.
He is all of 21, is doing his second year of B.Sc. and visits the Chandaka-Dampara Sanctuary near Bhubaneshwar every week to monitor elephant herds locked in a tragic and chronic human-conflict zone. He has also spent time monitoring tigers and prey density in the Satkosia-Gorge Wildlife Sanctuary and has studied the status of fishing cats in the marshes of the Chilika lake.
The Mannans are amongst the most prominent of southern Kerala’s tribes. ‘Mannan’ quite literally means ‘king’. Hunter- gatherers by birth, most Mannans are now agriculturists, largely because the forests that once sustained them were hacked to make way for modern ‘development’. The bulk of the community lives in and around the Idukki District.
An India- focused campaign with global dimensions, TOFT is attempting to turn wildlife tourism into a conservation tool. TOFT has the support of a large number of Travel Operators in the UK who want tourists to add their strengths to tiger conservation.
The Huli Vesha art form was born of the love, respect and veneration showered on the tiger by the people of Dakshin Kannada for whom the striped predator was but another face of god. The origins of the dance dates back to days when people lived each day in awe, wonder and fear of the tiger.