I had thought for a long time that Powai Lake and Sanjay Gandhi National Park in Mumbai are the only two protected reserves that lie within the precincts of a bustling city. That's till I visited Guwahati.
When you drive out of Guwahati in any of the eight directions, you realize this city is an ever-expanding construction site. Flyovers, bridges, six-lane roads, factories, colonies, farm-houses, the works. Mountains after mountains all around have been blasted to make the road to reach the faraway mountains.
The only exception is when you drive south-west for 15 kms towards a quaint little lake called Deepor Beel. In Assamese, it means the Lake of the Elephants. Look around and you will see a vast waterbody with migratory birds bobbing in them, but no elephants. The elephants had quietly moved away from the nearby hills of Rani and Darbhanga long ago, far away from the madding crowd that's approaching slowly but steadily.
Deepor Beel is a lake formed on one of the tributaries of the Brahmaputra River. It's now cut off from this mighty river and gets its water supply only from the monsoons. Turn off from the National Highway, drive past a dusty village and reach Deepor Beel after 5 kms. You will be welcomed by a pair of adjutant storks, standing still on the top of a massive banyan tree and surveying their territory. Soon they take off into the skies for a bird's eye view, their gigantic wings spinning a whirlwind. In the distance, you will find another group foraging for food, sharing the international waters with the migratory ruddy shelducks.
Walking on the fringes of the blue waters of Deepor Beel, on one side we saw the local fishermen in their country boats fishing with their small nets. And on the other side, fishing eagles doing a far better job, armed with just their beaks and their instincts that have been perfected by millions of years of evolution. The birds swimming next to the country boats went about their business undisturbed. That is, till a train roaring on the newly-laid track startled them and ruffled their feathers.
The Forest Guard Bordoloi lamented the sad state of this lake. He said, 'Deepor Beel collects all the storm water in the monsoon and prevents the city of Guwahati from flooding. But what does it get in return? Untreated effluents from the very same city!’
The Range Officer Saikia added another angle. He said, 'This was a tranquil place till the Government of Assam decided to hold the rowing events of the National Games in this lake four years ago. That's when the road to destruction was built.' The tragedy of Deepor Beel is akin to the tragedy of all our sanctuaries. Though the lake extends for 40 sq kms, only the core area of four sq kms is declared as a Wildlife Sanctuary. It's like protecting your heart but leaving your body susceptible. And that's exactly what's happening. The four sq kms is left intact, but wetlands after wetlands outside this area are being filled to create factories and colonies, killing the lake metre by metre.
They call it reclamation of land. How can you ever 'reclaim' what was never yours in the first place? It's not reclamation but 'clamation'. Wrongly claiming for yourself what's the home of our wildlife.
Our next destination was Pobitora, just 30 kms to the east of Guwahati. It's an amazing place, with three distinctly different landscapes merging into one sanctuary, all within a mere 42 sq kms.
Since we reached late in the afternoon, there was no time to make a trip to the forest. So instead we went to a village called Mayong just two kms away. It's a village with a past but no present. At the very first glance, it appears to be a nondescript village. But talk to the villagers and they will tell you about the past glory of the village as the Land of Black Magic. From medieval times to as recently as a few decades back, the Kingdom of Mayong was the last place you wanted to be in. It was believed that anyone who strayed into this village after sunset would never come back to tell the tale. Because the Magicians of Mayong would transform these hapless souls into helpless animals with their supernatural powers. Be that as it may, today they have lost all those powers and live a mundane life like the rest of us. The only things that point to their rich lineage are the relics that lie scattered along the Brahmaputra. And the fact that their present king is the 39th descendant of the very first Mayong king.
By the time we finished our long walk it had become dark and eerie, and we beat a hasty retreat to the well-lit comfort of our jungle resort. Sitting in the balcony we saw the full moon rise, and with it came the spotted owls with their supernatural expressions. I must admit that it did cross my mind if indeed they were some hapless souls transformed into owls by the Magicians of Mayong many centuries ago.
Nipen Nath, the nature lover who arranged for our jungle trip, gave us a brief introduction to this three-in-one sanctuary. He said, 'As far as I know there are only three sanctuaries in such close proximity to cities in India. One is in your own Mumbai, the Borivali National Park. The second is the Guindy National Park bang in the middle of Chennai city. And the third is our very own Pobitora, situated just 30 kms from the city of Guwahati. The first two are quite homogenous, but not Pobitora. It's a mix of three divergent landscapes: the hilly tract, the grasslands and the wetlands.’
As a result of this unique topography, Pobitora is home to a rich and diverse variety of wildlife. Almost half the sanctuary is grasslands where there are over 80 one-horned rhinoceros and the rare Asiatic wild buffalo with its distinctive rapier-like horns. Then there are mammals like leopard, leopard cat, fishing cat, jungle cat, pangolin and wild boar. Add to this over 350 species of birds, nine species of amphibians and 27 species of reptiles. All in just 42 sq kms.
Soon we were presented with two options of going into the Park: on an elephant or in a jeep. Gautam Deka, our guide, advised us against going on the elephant, as she was going through some marital discord. Gautam said, 'Saab, just yesterday the tusker made a vicious charge at her, even as she was carrying some visitors on her back. And I am not very sure if their differences have been resolved overnight!' So we took the jeep.
As the driver and the guide took their seats in the front, I noticed both of them offering a small prayer, with their eyes closed and their hearts open. Later I was to realize that it was for their safe return from the dangerous territory of the unpredictable one-horned rhinoceros.
In the Park, the mist was still tarrying on the grasslands. And much like how it would have happened eons ago, one-horned rhinoceros and wild buffaloes rose from the mist like pre-historic monsters. Once they started moving towards us, their forms became more defined. A pair of rhinos posed patiently for ten minutes, and then slowly but surely started advancing towards our jeep. As if telling us, 'Enough is enough. Now get a move on!' Move on we did, and in double quick time.
From the grasslands we drove through a dry deciduous terrain to reach a scenic waterscape with hundreds of migratory birds. In fact, some flocks had as many as a thousand birds each. Pintailed ducks, whistling ducks, spotbilled ducks and northern shovellers. A sight that's well-nigh impossible to witness in a place that's barely at a plastic bottle's throw from a bustling city.
It's a miracle how these city lakes and city forests have survived, so close to a city, for so long. See them while they're still there.
