DR. LUIS DIAS
When first faced with the prospect of spending a whole week in Bengaluru, my heart sank. I had heard so much about the urban jungle it had become, and getting stuck in long traffic snarls when trying to get to any destination within the city.
But my spirits lifted a lot when an internet search revealed the city was not far from Kabini Wildlife Reserve, a destination long on my bucket list. Pictures of its ‘poster’ melanistic leopard on my social media newsfeed had created a yearning in me to visit, and this was the perfect opportunity to fulfil it.
I booked two nights’ stay there for myself. But before that we spent a day at Bannerghatta National Park (BNP). It began with an early morning pre-booked ‘safari’. As the park website described, it promised “a guided observation of captive wildlife within large-scale, immersive exhibits designed to replicate their natural forest ecosystems. The Safari region’s landscape is a representation of the adjoining dry and moist deciduous forests of the BNP.”
It included several subsections: Herbivore (spotted deer, Sambar, Nilgai, Blackbuck and Gaur), Bear (rescued sloth bears, the majority of which were previously exploited as dancing bears by the Kalandar tribes, while the rest were rescued from human-animal conflict or found as abandoned cubs), Leopard (a ‘healthy’ population of free-ranging leopards as well as rescued cubs and adults from all over Karnataka, my favourite section), Lion and Tiger. The carnivore sections had chain-linked meshes, moats on the perimeter, and a double gate system for entry and exit for
obvious reasons.
As I had a camera, I was allowed to sit next to the driver of our non-AC bus, which helped in getting some decent pictures, including the one accompanying this article.
I am not a fan of zoos, but the “inmates” (apparently a thousand of them, nearly 90 species) in this sprawling 100-acre zoo seemed well tended to. Although the big cats were the biggest attraction, the abiding memory for me was of the mighty king cobras.
Although we had heard much of the butterfly park, we were not able to fit it into that packed day.
An early morning five-hour cab ride got me to Kabini River Lodge. It is rated one of the Top 5 Wildlife Resorts in the World by the British Tatler Travel Guide. Its territory was apparently one of the prime hunting grounds of the maharajas of Mysuru.
The two nights’ stay allowed me four safaris by jeep or by boat, in the morning and afternoon.
Generally speaking, (there are always exceptions) visitors here had greater respect for the wild and for their human companions than those we encountered at BNP.
My attitude on the lamentably few occasions I venture into any wildlife space is to soak in the exhilaration of just being in the great outdoors. Too many photography enthusiasts squander that precious time fiddling with their expensive gear, either readying it for the next shot, or evaluating their last picture or video. I too would love picture-postcard-perfect photographs, but not at the risk of actually “missing the wood for the trees”.
Having said that, I managed to get some decent pictures, although the most cherished memories are what I saw through my binoculars, especially the antics of an adorable calf elephant while the mother looked on indulgently.
I was also lucky to have a sighting that our guide said was even rarer than spotting a big cat: a pack of dholes (Asiatic or Indian wild dog, Canis alpinus) taking a breather under the canopy of
a grove.
In the evenings, those interested congregated at the ‘Interpretation Centre’ to watch a wildlife movie. The fare on both evenings was ‘Wild Karnataka’, (also available on YouTube), the 52-minute documentary made in 2019, narrated by David Attenborough (and music by Grammy award-winner Ricky Kej), “shot at locations [including Kabini] within a seven-hour drive from Bengaluru”.
“Karnataka contains some of the richest wild places left on Earth,” says Attenborough’s voice-over at the beginning. Its forests support 25% of India’s elephant population and 20% of the world’s tiger population, making it home to the largest population of tigers and Asiatic elephants on the planet.
Indeed, 25% of all India’s plant and animal species are found here in Southern India’s largest state, “one of the last places where big wild animals can roam in safety”.
The number of species in the Western Ghats region (which includes our tiny state Goa) “and nowhere else on Earth…rivals even that of the Amazon”. This is the staggering natural heritage legacy that our generation has inherited, that we have no right to destroy just because a few politicians, bureaucrats and their capitalist cronies wish to monetise, but that village after village, town after town, is vehemently and quite sensibly resisting.
Our anthropocentric mindset, placing our species above all other life forms and the environment, is fundamentally flawed as we are coming to realise to our peril. Other forms of life, from trees to birds, animals, and fish have as just much a right to existence as we do.
I left the invigorating air and atmosphere of Kabini very reluctantly. The abruptness with which we were back to India’s urban sprawl within a few minutes of exiting the gate of its protected area underscored just how vulnerable, but also how valuable our wildlife heritage is.
By sheer coincidence, a few weeks after our return to Goa, I received an invitation from my friend Dr. John Britto to attend an exclusive screening at Goa University of another wildlife documentary film shot in Karnataka, called ‘Cauvery: River of Life.’ The accompanying blurb called it “the story of the mighty Cauvery River, a lifeline shaping extraordinary ecosystems and nurturing a remarkable diversity of wildlife”, set amidst “the captivating lesser-known habitats of MM (Male Mahadeshwara) Hills and Cauvery Wildlife Sanctuaries”.
Shot on a far smaller budget than ‘Wild Karnataka’, ‘Cauvery: River of Life’ is just as stunning, if not more so in many ways. For instance, the way elephants are able to “bore” into the soil in the dry season with their feet to tap into groundwater was a revelation. The focus away from the “celebrity” big cats to the rest of the teeming wildlife was refreshing, as was the spotlight on the problem of the Tilapia fish as an invasive species disrupting the fragile aquatic ecological balance.
There was a spirited question-and-answer session later with Dr. Sanjay Gubbi, renowned wildlife biologist, conservationist and author and the documentary’s executive producer. The film struck a chord with many, particularly some young minds, with probing thoughtful queries.
When asked if he had considered sending the documentary to international film festivals, Dr. Gubbi responded that he would rather it was screened in every nook and cranny of the country, particularly in schools and colleges.
On my way out, I picked up a signed copy of Dr. Gubbi’s 2021 labour of love, ‘Leopard Diaries: The Rosette in India’, his first-hand account of observing and studying leopards in the wild in India. In one word, it is “unputdownable”. I have just finished reading it and it is such a valuable and timely work that it deserves a column all to itself.
