In the year 2010, Chandoli National Park was declared as part of the Sahyadri Tiger Reserve. Thus the missing piece of a green jigsaw fell in place, making a large tract of the forests in the Western Ghats in Maharashtra into one contiguous stretch.
Chandoli on one side adjoins the Koyna Sanctuary, and on the other, the Radhanagari Sanctuary. Providing a corridor for tigers and leopards to reach the forests of Goa, just in case they choose to take a long walk.
The drive to Janabai’s mango tree was an exercise in mud-track rally driving. The looming mango tree was at least a 100 years old and had a story behind it. Janabai, a generous woman of her times, had given money to the shepherd community here called the dhangars. Thus helping them pay the land tax to the British during pre-independence days. In her honour they planted a mango sapling, and today it towers over 200 feet and is seen with its head and shoulders above the other forest trees, from as far away as 5 kms.
Back at the base, we attended a training programme conducted under the watchful eyes of one of the finest forest officers I have had the fortune of meeting: Mohan Karnat, Chief Conservator of Forests, Kolhapur. A team of about 80 guards and officers were imbibing the latest methods of GPS tracking using state-of-the-art wireless systems, setting up of camera traps, and familiarization with the new laws that have just empowered them.
A birding trip was on the cards the following morning. The excitement was palpable as we came across the massive hoof-marks of a herd of bison as they cascaded down a hill slope. In another patch, wild boar had uprooted edible plants for dinner last night. Then there were tree pies, babblers, paradise flycatchers, woodpeckers, drongos and scarlet minivets giving us company.
When we returned, Mohan told me with paternal glee in his eyes that three tiger cubs have just been sighted in the Reserve. But the location was not disclosed as it’s a closely guarded secret known to just a couple of trusted officers. He then introduced us to an amazing plant expert, Shrirang Shinde, a forest guard based at Koyna.
Shrirang accompanied us all the way from Chandoli to Satara where I was to drop him. Right through our journey, which turned out to be a real botanical expedition, he opened out his green book, a leaf at a time.
Even as I was driving at 60 kmph, he would spot a plant whizzing past and would ask me to stop. He gave up studies after class 10 as his parents could not afford his further studies. And he considers himself fortunate to have he met his guru Dr. Sanjay Limaye, who opened up a whole new green world for him. Together they traversed the length and breadth of the Sahyadris on foot, discovering the secret lives of local plants. Unfortunately Shrirang lost his guru to the dreaded tsunami of 2004 in the Andaman and Nicobar islands.
Soon after we left Chandoli, he made us stop near a waterbody. Here I witnessed one of the most innovative uses of two different devices. Since he had a small camera with no zoom lens, he would hold his magnifying glass close to the plant and would photograph it through the glass to get a magnified image.
Near Karad, on a stopover to see a plant, he realized he could not identify it. So he took a picture of it to show it to his octogenarian mother who was his go-to authority, extremely knowledgeable about the plants in that area.
Shrirang then showed us a whole lot of incredible plants: Bamburti, a plant that is used by locals to preserve dead bodies. Daatpadi that is fed to cattle to increase their weight just before a village auction. Chirkha which on being fed to a dying cow will make the cow stand up, albeit for a few minutes. Agara the grain that is used by locals as food during drought, as it is the only plant that survives in parched conditions.
At Kaas I was fortunate to witness a beautiful sight. Shrirang Shinde, who has been studying the flora of the Western Ghats for almost three decades, was part of a team that discovered a new species of grass. It was named Eulalia shrirangi after the master botanist Shrirang Yadav. But as Shrirang Shinde was his namesake, I saw the unforgettable image of Shrirang holding a shrirangi in his hand.
