First I saw a real jungle marooned in a concrete jungle. Then a blue-green algae pond teeming with crocodiles. And then a blue lake with green reeds popping out like periscopes. Three shades of green with a hundred hues in between. All in a space of two days.
Guindy National Park
This National Park is situated bang in the middle of the bustling city of Chennai. A pair of green lungs surrounded by clogged arteries all around. The only other National Park in India that’s located within city limits is Sanjay Gandhi National Park in Mumbai. But there’s a vital difference between the two parks.
SGNP is a large tract of forest that’s contiguous with an entire stretch that also lies outside the park. Namely, Tungareshwar Sanctuary and the forests of Thane district. This facilitates easy migration of wild animals which is crucial to the health of their species.
But here in Guindy, the tiniest National Park in India that admeasures just 270 hectares, the wild animals are cut off from the rest of their fraternity. So much so that the closest herd to the herd of blackbuck found here is all of 600 kms away in Point Calimere. Even spotted deer, jackals, pangolins and reptiles that exist here live in a marooned forest that floats in a concrete jungle. Thus encouraging inbreeding, which is not a healthy way to procreate.
Be that as it may, the 6 km walk along the periphery of the park was a delectable experience. On that path I came across the smell of rotten palm fruit that smelt exactly like toddy. A smell so inviting that toddy cats would have found it hard to resist it under the anonymous cover of night.
Then there was a slew of sights that would forever be recorded in my hard disk. Rhesus monkeys rappelling down an ancient rope into a deserted well and coming up as drenched beauties. A bouquet of butterflies sprouting on a wild plant. And a stag that had crashed through a wall of creepers and as a result had loose creepers dangling from its antlers, making it look like a real greenhorn.
Madras Croc Bank
In this park, apart from spotting the three species of crocodiles that are indigenous to India, I was keen to spot a member of another endangered species: Romulus Whitaker, a committed conservationist and the man who established this park. But I narrowly missed him as he had set off on a field visit to the Nicobar Islands that very morning.
The affable and knowledgeable guide Geetha made up for Rom’s absence. She first introduced me to a crocodile that was the alpha male of the park, and was nicknamed Jaws. He was rescued as a baby and is the largest marsh crocodile ever to have been recorded in India. His feeding reminded me of the opening scene of Jurassic Park. The huge crocs in the nearby pond looked like lizards in comparison.
Pointing to a raised mound in the distance where the crocs lay their eggs, Geetha shared with me a very interesting biological fact about them. Their sex is not decided at the time of fertilisation but at the time of the hatching of the egg. If the egg is hatched when the outside temperature is below 31 degrees C, it becomes a female; and if the temperature is 31 degrees C or above, it becomes a male!
Geetha then took me to the stall of the Irula tribe as we were getting ready to leave. Here we met Maniyakaran, a tribal leader. He told me of the special relationship that Rom shared with the Irulas. On all his snake-watching expeditions, it was this snake-catching tribe that accompanied him sharing their deep knowledge of snake behaviour that they had gathered from pre-Dravidian times. These hunter-gatherers never took up farming but had perfected the art of finding grain to subsist. Rats steal grains from farms and hoard them in their holes. Snakes kill rats and start living there. Once the snakes vacate these places, the Irulas come in and raid the deserted pits. And easily pick up 8 to 10 kilos of grain from a single rat-hole. Who said you have to cultivate grains to reap a bumper harvest?
Pulicat Lake Bird Sanctuary
Pulicat is the second largest brackish lagoon in India after Chilika in Odisha. It has four islands bordering the Bay of Bengal. The biggest among them is Sriharikota, the island from which India’s first lunar mission Chandrayaan was launched.
This lake interestingly has three rivers feeding it sweet water from one side, and the sea feeding it salt water from the other side. A dynamic and perennial exchange that breeds many species of vegetation, fish, waterbirds and reptiles that are unique to this ecosystem.
During the migratory season you see thousands of birds landing in the lake, as if it’s raining feathers. Flamingos from Gujarat, painted storks from Siberia, and spoonbills from Eurasia. Many of them fall in love with this landscape and keep extending their visas, and eventually never go back to the land of their birth.
There’s a beautiful road ringing this lake and sometimes even bisecting it. This road, along with the well-appointed benches and watchtowers that are strategically placed at regular intervals, give you a 180-degree ringside view of all the avian action.
The vast landscape reminds you of Kachchh, with endless stretches of land laden with salt and seashells.
Interestingly, Pulicat is the only bird sanctuary in India that straddles two states. In this case, Tamil Nadu and Andhra Pradesh. Bringing to the fore boundary issues among fishermen, and subsequent fishing in troubled waters. Apart from these local issues, a new ecological storm is brewing in the Bay of Bengal. Taking a cue from the historical fact this was a busy port in the 1st century, the powers-that-be in the 21st century are nurturing grandiose plans of converting this pristine sanctuary into a world class port and shipbuilding centre. Throwing to the wind environmental laws by blatantly reducing the Eco Sensitive Zone from 10 kms to a mere 2 kms.
As I sat on a lonely green bench and glanced at the horizon, I could see that the sun had decided to call it a day. Soon, sky colours began to mix magically with water colours, creating an enchanting landscape. And I hoped that the greed of man will not make this sun set on Pulicat Lake forever.
But don’t take a chance. See it while it’s still there. Offer open only till good sense lasts.
