Flashback. Karnataka. Circa 1993.
The very first time I went looking for blackbucks turned out to be a wild goose chase. On my journey to Kerala by road, a signboard that said ’Way to Ranebennur Blackbuck Sanctuary’ waylaid my plans. And I set off in the direction of the arrow. But even after driving for a good 30 kms, there was no sign of any Blackbuck Sanctuary, leave alone a blackbuck. After another 5 kms and many discreet enquiries, I came across a board that announced my destination in big bold letters: ’Ranebennur Blackbuck Sanctuary’. But below it was written in smaller type: ’Proposed’. So much for the fine print in wildlife signages.
Flashback. Maharashtra. Circa 2002.
The very first encounter with the most beautiful of all Indian antelopes was in the only blackbuck sanctuary in Maharashtra: Rehekuri. This was a tiny island of grassland floating in the midst of farmlands where blackbucks lived, cut off from the nearest herd by a few hundred miles.
Out in the scrubby grassland I saw the first group grazing with their calves. Slowly the numbers in the herd increased till in one group it reached a staggering thirty. And I was told by the guide that their population had almost trebled in the last seven years. But naturalists warn that increasing numbers in the wild is not always a healthy sign. It’s actually the health of the herd that truly matters. Rehekuri is a teenie-weenie sanctuary of just 2 sq kms, completely cut off from other forests. So practically these animals are marooned on this island, and thus prone to inbreeding. This naturally results in weaker offspring. And to make matters worse, there are no predators here to make sure only the fittest survive.
Flashback. Rajasthan. Circa 2009.
Jodhpur, the home of many Bishnois, offered me a different spectacle altogether. In the villages here, namely Khejadli, Rotu, Jajiwal and Samrathal, blackbucks coexist with humans in perfect harmony. The Bishnois revere them, keeping vessels filled with water near their houses for them, and even allowing them free access to their ready-to-harvest farms. In fact, a Bishnoi farmer in Jajiwal told me with utmost equanimity, ’Whatever is left in the farms by the blackbucks is what belongs to us’.
In Khejadli, I met Dr. Sumit Dookia who has been researching the relationship between blackbucks and the Bishnois for over a decade. He had a pertinent observation to make. He said that the blackbucks living in and around Bishnoi villages behave differently from those in the wild. Firstly they have started believing that all human beings are Bishnois, and that has put them at tremendous risk especially with poachers. Another change is in the mating rituals. Compared to the elaborate rituals in the real wild, here in the villages they are short and curtailed.
But these are insignificant details when compared to the yeomen’s service this community has rendered to mankind by conserving an entire ecosystem. Dr. Sumit shared with me an interesting fact: There are more blackbucks and chinkaras in Bishnoi villages than in all the wildlife sanctuaries of Rajasthan put together.
Velavdar, Gujarat. Circa 2014.
The best place to see blackbucks in their natural glory is Velavdar Blackbuck Sanctuary in Southern Gujarat. With rolling grasslands stretching up to 32 sq kms, it’s our own mini Africa. Nowhere else in India can you find endless grasslands with hundreds of a single species grazing all at once.
At the last count there were over 1,600 blackbucks inside the sanctuary, and around 3,000 outside, in nearby protected areas extending up to another 25 kms. In fact, a few corridors have been specifically left open for them to migrate, in case of over-population.
It was evening when we reached the forest guest house. Dumping my luggage, I jumped into the jeep of the affable Devji Waghela, the range officer in charge. The very first sighting was of jackals, the natural predators of blackbuck, who ensure only the fittest of them survive. Then we witnessed a typical Bollywood romance scene. A majestic male blackbuck was trying to woo the female who pretended she’s least interested. After many romantic sequences she relented; and the shy blades of grass leaned towards each other in a symbolic gesture!
By then it was time for the sun to set, and the blackbucks decided to call it a day. There were many divergent groups: a couple of nuclear families, some joint families, a few harems, some bachelor parties, and a few groups of rejected males.
But when they settled down to sleep, four members from each group decided to have their forty winks facing in four different directions. They were the guards for the night, who would warn the group of any attack by predators under the cover of night.
It indeed was a moonless night. Thousands of stars had pierced holes in the black canopy of the night, and light years were peeping in through them.
The next morning the sun rose from the east and the blackbucks rose from the grasslands. From the eastern side, hordes of them crossed over to the western side, bisecting a dirt track. But for some inexplicable reason, each one of them would pause for a split second on the track and then spring across the track in boundless joy. They are the fastest animals on earth after the cheetah, and can cover a distance of 20 feet in one single leap of joy.
Ayub, our guide for that day, took us to a place guided by his sixth sense. And right enough we spotted a striped hyaena with jaws strong enough to crush a thigh bone. He was happily feeding on the left-overs of last night.
At Velavdar, the dreaded Ganda Baawal or the Insane Babool has been kept on a tight leash by the forest department by uprooting it whenever it rears its ugly, green head. This weed-tree, the seeds of which were imported from Australia and aerially sprayed across Kachchh to increase its green cover a couple of decades ago, has created havoc in Gujarat. And the green cancer has now spread up to Punjab in the North and Karnataka in the South, suffocating the local vegetation and slowly wiping them out.
As the evening descended, so did the dark clouds pregnant with rain. A large, white egret cut through the gathering storm with effortless ease. And then it poured. The smell of barren earth as she got drenched was enchanting. No perfume in the world can match this heady fragrance, much as they may try to bottle it.
