Author: Vaihayasi Pande Daniel
Publication:
Date: May 16, 2008
No electricity, phone or TV and lions as neighbours
The serene teak forests and gently rising
and falling grassy knolls that make up the 1,412 sq km of the magnificent
Gir Forest National Park are home to about 350 of Asia's only lions.
Gir, interestingly, is also the home of Lakhibai,
15.
Lakhibai and her 500 odd fellow nomadic herdsmen,
the Maldharis, and their contingents of shiny black, mammoth buffaloes and
cattle, also uniquely inhabit this southwestern Gujarat jungle.
Lakhibai is not afraid of the lions that share
her forest home. We bumped into her while she was gracefully walking home
with her day's enormous haul of grass balanced on her head; armed not even
with a stick. Nor do the lions bother with her. It is a situation of mutual
respect.
First in the series: The exorcism of Nandai
Unlike other Indian wildlife reserves, where
the villages situated within the protected park were all relocated when the
parks were established by the government, in Gir forest many of the Maldharis,
who live in 50 or so scattered villages called ness, were allowed to stay
on. They were also given rights to graze their buffaloes in the placid meadows
of Gir. The Gujarat government apparently compensates them 50 per cent for
every buffalo/head of cattle that the lions take for prey; although applying
and receiving the compensation is said to be a torturous process.
Living deep and buried in this dense, peaceful
forest has cut the Maldharis off from the flow of every day modern Indian
life. Cut them off from 'civilisation' virtually. Their life has changed just
negligibly from what it was in the 1960s when the forest park was created.
They live in simple communities that have
not had the benefit of modernisation. There is no electricity. Or running
water. The villages are of a few homes each and the Maldharis uproot, from
time to time, and migrate to better grazing areas within the park.
Kerosene lanterns are the only means of light
in Lakhibai's home that she shares with two younger sisters and parents. They
chop wood from the forest to run their stoves.
"I get up at 5 am. We cut grass and organise
food for the buffaloes," she explains in her sweet-sounding dialect.
Lakhibai has never been to school. She has
rarely ventured out of the forest or beyond a 50 km radius of her home. She
has not watched television nor used a telephone. And prefers not to ride in
a vehicle; Maldharis use camels or opt to walk long distances.
The radio is the prize possession of their
home. "I listen to music on it," she says shyly. It runs on batteries.
But she has not heard of Bollywood, Amitabh
Bachchan or Shah Rukh Khan and does not know anything about Hindi films. Or
what it means to be Hindustani.
Maldharis, who dress in a special intriguing
gypsy style with black skirts and wrapped in colourful chunnis, are not a
caste by themselves. Charans, Ahirs and Rabaris and folks from other cow-herder
castes can be Maldharis. Staunch vegetarians, they do not slaughter their
livestock.
The word maldhari means people who have maal
or worth. A strange title for virtually possession-less, nomadic people?
Not really when you realise that over the
years their buffaloes have made the Maldharis wealthy. This entire community
of pastoral nomads own about 16,000 head of livestock.
Lakhibai cannot tell you what exactly her
family earns but locals from Sasan town, which is located at the entrance
of the forest, tell you that these families earn close to Rs 20,000 a month
selling milk.
Maldharis live quite contentedly off the milk
products they sell, and use, and do not have much to spend their money on
except more cattle and buffalo. So much of it is invested in jewellery. True
to their name Maldhari women wander around with heavy ear-rings and other
jewellery.
Lakhibhai and her clan, who do not farm, are
very wily herdsfolk. The lions do not often get to their buffaloes. They keep
a very sharp eye is what the forest guides tell you. And they are not afraid
of lions. The forest is full of Maldharis trekking down forest paths. Lions
are not prone to harming humans in these forests. They have enough game to
keep themselves happy.
But there could be a wrinkle on Lakhibai's
continuing existence in her forest paradise. Opinions differ on whether the
Maldharis, who revere their environment as well as the lions, live in awe-inspiring
harmony side by side with the lions. Or that the lions will ultimately pay
for the over-grazing of the forest by the Maldharis's herds.
Some statistics reflect that buffaloes and
cattle make up 37 per cent of the lion's prey. Net result: A decrease in population
of the lion's natural prey like deer and nilgai. Maldharis are extremely resistant
to being moved out of the forest. Apparently experiments in the past have
not been successful because of the Maldharis's inability to till land.
We encounter Lakhibai's sleepy village, a
cluster of a few simple thatched homes, 15 minutes ahead by jeep. A huge herd
of buffaloes amiably chew cud, standing in front of it. Dusk is about to descend
and the menfolk are busy securing the herd for the night.
It will probably take Lakhibai another 15
minutes to reach home and then half an hour to wind up her tasks. Then she
will probably tune into the outside world, the only way she can, when she
turns her radio on.