There's probably only one religion in the world that's founded solely on the principles of conserving Nature. That is the living religion of the Bishnois.
This religion was founded by Lord Jambheshwar who is believed to be an incarnation of Lord Vishnu, the preserver of all that's created on earth.
Legend has it that till the age of seven, Jambheshwar never uttered a word. Concerned by this strange behaviour, his parents called in a priest. The priest suggested that a pooja be performed after lighting 64 lamps. The idea was to enlighten the boy.
In spite of their desperate efforts, not one of the oil-filled lamps could be lit. In the midst of all the commotion, little Jambheshwar picked up an earthen pot, tied it to a slender sewing thread and lowered it into a nearby well. And quietly pulled out a pot full of water. He then removed the oil from all the lamps, and poured water in its place. And lo and behold, one by one all the 64 lamps lit up on their own. Maybe even as a kid, he was enlightened enough to know that water is the very source of life.
From the age of 8 to 34, Jambheshwar led the life of a cow-herd. Though he was born into the warrior clan of Rajputs, he chose to be different. Instead of developing hunting skills like the rest of his ilk, he developed communication skills with all living things. For hours on end, he used to converse with plants and animals.
On the shifting sand dunes of Samrathal, my friend, philosopher and guide Om Prakash Lol showed me the spot where Jambheshwar sat and meditated, and saw visions of a green paradise.
He had then summoned his innumerable followers there and told them that they need to follow a new belief system on which their entire life would be based. As they would be governed by these 29 principles, they would be called Bishnois; derived from the words 'bees' that's twenty, and 'noi' that's nine.
One of their tenets is beautifully summed up in Rajasthani: 'Sar saathe rookh rahe, phir bhi sastho jaan'. It means, 'Even if you have to give up your life to save a tree, it's still worth it.' The Bishnois don't just live by this principle, they even die for it.
In fact in the year 1730, the Maharaja of Jodhpur sent an army into a Bishnoi village called Khejadli to hack down the khejri trees there for repairing his fort. A Bishnoi woman named Amritadevi got wind of the king's plan. And as the soldiers trooped in, she hugged a khejri tree and said, 'Kill me before you cut this tree.' And the soldier promptly beheaded her. Hearing about this, villagers from Khejadli and 82 villages nearby joined in, each one hugging a khejri tree. In a massacre that lasted all of seven days, 363 people laid down their lives: men, women and children. In some cases, as many as four generations from a single family. Nowhere in the world, at no point in the history of mankind, have so many people laid down their lives for the cause of conservation.
The Bishnois celebrate this martyrdom every year at the Khejadli Fair and the Jambha Fair. Where this 10-lakh-strong community rededicates itself to the protection of Nature. But their love for trees doesn't confine itself to the trees in their own villages. When the whole of North India and Central India celebrate the festival of Holi by lighting up pyres made of chopped trees, the Bishnois do penance by observing a fast on that unholy night. For a sin not committed by them, but by the others.
And their passion for conservation even extends beyond their death. Though they are Hindus, they don't cremate their dead. Going against tradition, they bury their dead so that trees are not felled even as an inevitable excuse.
Lord Jambheshwar realized the importance of trees over five centuries ago. And the epicentre of his conservation efforts was a place in Western Rajasthan called Rotu where many of his followers lived. At that time Rotu was a barren desert, and the lone vegetation there was a completely dried up tree.
When Jambheswar reached Rotu, he tied his horse to this dead tree and alighted. The moment his feet touched the ground, village folklore has it that the dead tree sprouted leaves. His followers who witnessed this miracle prayed for more trees that would give them shade and solace.
As an answer to their prayer, Jambheshwar planted 3700 'full grown' khejri trees in that village and its environs. And he told them that these trees would attract birds from neighbouring villages and they would roost there in the night and sing beautiful songs for them in the morning. These trees would bring in rains, he said, which in turn would give birth to more trees. And today, the entire district of Jodhpur has vast stretches of land dotted with khejri trees, now crowned as the State Tree of Rajasthan.
The Bishnois worship this tree, just as the Hindus worship the peepal tree and the banyan tree. As a sect, they are prohibited from worshipping idols.
But they make up for it by worshipping thousands and thousands of these trees that are an integral part of their life. They revere a tree so much that not even a branch is chopped off. Even for firewood, they only collect dead branches from dead trees. They say, 'Jeev daya paalni, rookh leelo na ghaave.' Which means, 'Have compassion for all things living; even when a branch is cut, the tree feels the pain.’
The importance of a khejri tree is that it grows very slowly, almost painstakingly. In 10 years, a tree would barely grow to be two inches in girth. It attains its full glory only when it grows to be at least a 100 years old. And it's probably the only tree that allows vegetation to grow under its canopy. Proving wrong the adage 'Nothing grows in the shade'.
But their empathy doesn't end with trees; it extends to every living being on earth. So they protect the entire ecosystem that exists in their villages. Animals like blackbucks and chinkaras, and birds like vultures, partridges, peacocks, and even the endangered great Indian bustard, find Bishnoi villages a safe haven. Not only do the Bishnois protect them from poachers, they even allow them to graze freely in their farmlands. Om Prakash proudly told me, 'It's the belief of every Bishnoi that the first right to the harvest goes to the blackbucks, nilgais and chinkaras. Whatever is left belongs to us.’
At the village of Jajiwal, I saw a Bishnoi temple that doubles up as a rescue shelter. Here the priest takes care of the injured nilgais, blackbucks and chinkaras, and even feeds them twice a day. Some of them go back into the wild, while the others prefer to stay in the temple compound, roaming free. The Bishnoi women too take maternal care of the rescued calves. At Khejadli, I saw a Bishnoi woman breastfeeding a newly born, orphaned calf of a blackbuck.
It was in this village that I met Sunil Bishnoi, a firebrand Bishnoi leader. He said a major transformation has happened in the 500-year psyche of the Bishnois: the shift from passive conservation to active conservation. Once upon a time they were content laying down their lives. Today they actively pursue armed poachers with a mere lathi and tonnes of courage, capture them and hand them over to the forest authorities. The reflection of their new-found aggression is an organisation called the Tiger Force. It is a 1000-strong brigade of young, fearless warriors of wildlife protection. Spread over hundreds of villages across Jodhpur, they are now active even in other parts of Rajasthan.
Being a nature lover to the core, Sunil bemoans the fact that under the Indian Wildlife Act animals are accorded various levels of importance. But to a Bishnoi, killing a monitor lizard is as hideous a crime as killing a tiger.
Recently the Bishnois shot into international prominence when they caught an Indian Superstar and his Supergang. The valiant Tiger Force had chased them and caught them red-handed with the blackbucks they had poached and killed. The media coverage about the uncompromising spirit of the Bishnois sent shivers down the spines of poachers, and today these mercenaries think thrice before shooting down a helpless animal in a Bishnoi village.
The visit to the abode of one of the martyrs of conservation, Gangaram Bishnoi, was like a pilgrimage. At the entrance to this village is a memorial where this courageous Bishnoi is buried next to the blackbuck he tried to save. His family comprised his aged father and mother, his wife and two young children. Each one of them was proud of the valiant act of Gangaram taking on four bullets on his chest, trying to save what others would call a 'mere' blackbuck. His mother quietly pointed out to a faded photograph on their crumbling wall. It was the picture of Gangaram's wife receiving the President's Medal from Dr. Abdul Kalam for her husband's heroic act.
Sumit Dookia is a biologist who has been researching the relationship between blackbucks and the Bishnois for over a decade. He made a pertinent observation that the behaviour of wild animals living in close proximity to humans has undergone some changes. Firstly they have started believing that all human beings are as compassionate as the Bishnois, and that has put them at tremendous risk, especially with poachers.
Another change that he has observed 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 itself and to mankind in conserving an entire ecosystem. 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.
When you look into the eyes of a Bishnoi, you see a deep-seated love for the forest and all that resides in it. And you wonder why every single forest in India is not handed over to them for conserving its tremendous natural heritage.
The paradox of this community is that there are just a handful of them occupying influential positions in the forest department. B. R. Bhadoo, a passionate and uncompromising forest officer from the community, pointed out the tragic reason behind this: widespread illiteracy that's the bane of the Bishnois.
But one must admit that the compassion of the Bishnois is contagious. It's catching on even in communities that are traditionally aggressive, and consider hunting an adventure sport: the Rajputs and the Jats. They have had a change of heart, and are now contributing in a big way towards conservation of Nature and wildlife.
Five centuries ago, Lord Jambheshwar had dreamt of sand dunes turning into a green paradise. Where every living organism has an equal right to the land. And where man and animal live in perfect harmony.
That has been the Way of Life of the Bishnois for over 500 years. Is there any other?
