Tuesday, February 24, 2009

The tragic finale to the UP Barabanki tiger

Was told in the morning that she is a tigress..there goes our great theory of pugmarks...


Beast in man wins: Fugitive tiger shot dead

Prerna Singh Bindra | New Delhi

The ‘Barabanki’ tiger was killed at about 6.30 pm on Tuesday in the Rudali range of Faizabad, by Nawab Shaukat Ali Khan from Hyderabad, though there are reports that some shots were fired by the villagers. The tiger, targeted as a man-eater, had been on the run for nearly four months. The last casualty was more than a month back, on January 14, in Devgaon village of Faizabad district. A mob of over a thousand people had surrounded the tiger’s carcass. It is reported that the tiger also had some old bullet wounds, testimony to the fact that he has been shot at least twice before, though a postmortem will be conducted on Wednesday.

On Tuesday, two bullets, no three, pierced his heart — my heart. No apologies if I am being emotional here. It’s anger, and sorrow, that makes me pen these words in tribute to the brave, beautiful tiger… hounded, and wronged by man - because, as Jim Corbett put it “whose only crime - not against the laws of nature, but against the laws of man, was that he shed human blood, with no object of terrorising man, but only so that he may live.” You couldn’t even blame him for that -- for the ‘Barabanki’ tiger, as he came to be known was far from a man-eater.

But let’s go back a bit, where the story begins. In the beginning of November last year, when this young tiger must have strayed out of its forest, Pilibhit (UP), driven mainly by paucity of prey, into the sugarcane fields where he chanced upon a youngster, killed him accidentally --and walked away, without satiating his hunger. That one death was enough to ire the locals, and the administration, and they began to mercilessly hound the tiger. Experts say he should have been just left alone, he would have slunk back into the forest, or at best, employed a small team to drive him back to his habitat. Instead they burst crackers, threw fireballs, shot pellets, and bullets, to drive him away - with the sole purpose of “getting rid of the headache”. Persecuted, the tiger strayed further, till he reached Barabanki, many miles away, and on the outskirts of the capital city of Lucknow, where he allegedly killed another teen. I use the word ‘allegedly’ and ‘capital’ with ample reason. There were too many holes in the theory that point towards the tiger as the culprit - as revealed in The Pioneer earlier, “but it was just more convenient.” The administration was reportedly aware of this, but no one bothered to do any enquiry, and the death warrant on the tiger was issued promising an award, prompting all local heroes to get their guns out. Also in ardent pursuit were the armed constabulary, forest officers, local administration, you name it. Proximity to the capital ensured that politics entered into the macabre drama of “who shall kill the tiger”. It didn’t matter those entrusted with the task were there because of proximity to the powers that be, not because they were the most competent. It didn’t matter that the main hunter missed his aim (a blessing?) because his hands shook. They all wanted to be part of the fame, of being hailed as the killer of the “man-eater”. Those who muttered, furtively, about tranquilisation, and rehabilitation, were hushed, or at best, humoured, till the Centre gave them a rap - and the orders to kill were withdrawn. The tiger got a reprieve for some time. But did it? The “outsiders”, scientists from Wildlife Institute of India, who came to help in the tranquilisation were not really welcomed, later an NGO came in on the scene too. But they were kept in the fringes, and the hunters stayed - some six-seven of them, including a nawab from Hyderabad who joined the merry party, for the situation had become “desperate”. The tiger had killed another person. And another - I know one is not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but the villagers themselves described the last casualty as “the village idiot” who walked into the death trap post-sunset, into the forest, alone, even though he was warned.

I was there. And I tried to be fair. It was no easy task, controlling that mob of villagers, armed with guns, lathis and deadly intent. But in almost none of the officers did I detect a trace of sympathy, or an understanding of the situation, as they sat around and grumbled about the disruption of their peaceful, humdrum lives, mourned the loss of the new year’s party, and such like. One extolled his hunting skills, while another officer, worried about the dust on his fine coat, as he wielded his gun ahem, to shoot the tiger.

I wouldn’t label the tiger a man-eater — in nearly four months, he killed three, or four - as some people insist, and was mainly surviving on neelgai, cattle and other livestock - even as he dodged no less than 500-odd blood-thirsty people, a posse of VIP cars, and what-have-you. Incidentally, I walked the jungles, too, where his presence was indicated, noticed his pugmarks, crisscrossing ours, over our footprint. The tiger was there, oh so close...separated by a moment in time, and chance.

I got a call a few days back. Near to midnight, by one of the trackers, near to tears, “I saw him today, Madam, not ten metres away from where I stood. He is so beautiful, his eyes aflame like golden fire…he looked at me, then walked away...he is a gentleman” - and I could hear the echo of Corbett’s words. This tracker did not have the heart to tell the hunters where he was, “I couldn’t,” he said, “not after that moment. He is not a killer…” Another tracker I know abandoned the chase, on the same grounds.

In fact, on a PIL based on a report in The Pioneer, the Allahabad High Court asked the State Forest department to issue fresh orders, as the stray tiger did not appear to be a man-eater.But the tiger has been shot, bullets reportedly fired by the villagers, and also the nawab in the Kumarganj area, near Buksuna chowki, reportedly in jungles not too far from the Kamakhyadevi temple, the Goddess whose steed is a tiger. Perversely, I am almost glad he is dead, free from the tragic drama that relentlessly ended his young life, I hope he is at peace, away from the injustice and manic madness of man.

I know he did not deserve to die…not just because the guilt of his crime rests more with man. But also because he was a brave, brave tiger, almost like the proverbial cat with nine lives, giving his pursuers a merry chase. A grand animal, who fought like a …tiger, for his life, for his freedom, against all odds.

Who is to blame here - the hunter or the hunted? Will anyone be held accountable for this fatal error? For the mismanagement, politics, egos, that dictated the fate of this tiger, stilled before he reached his prime?

Published in The Pioneer on February 25

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Death in water

The Sundarbans could be hiding a nasty secret. While the State claims 274 tigers exist in these mangrove forests, the actual numbers are perhaps far less. Prerna Singh Bindra investigates

They told us about the man-eating tigers of the Sundarbans. Legendary, all powerful. It appears from nowhere, launches itself from the water, flies through the air and spirits away its prey — man. Unheard, unseen.

No one said a word about the 'tiger-eating' men. Sundarban's tiger poachers. It's eerie, how they operate in much the same way as the beasts, venturing into the depth of the vast mangrove forests, unseen, unchecked, silencing and spiriting away their prey ... yet another tiger. To be skinned, butchered, and sold. The skin would be used as a rug, the bones, the flesh, the whiskers, the penis ground to be used as medicine and for soups, in lands away.

Paritosh Mondol and Panchanan Giri had a similar plan. They were the 'ghost' hunters, seasoned at their job with years of practice. They had marked out their prey, a tiger that frequented the Jhilla forest, Compartment No 9, Bashirhaat Range. This was a prized quarry, better than the usual cheetal, which fetched them about "Rs 3,500 apiece".

A tiger could fetch them a lakh, if not more.

On the morning of October 3, 2008, they set off in a dinghy. They weren't really scared, not of being caught. They knew — it was their business to know — that patrolling was lax, weaker than it was ever before. The jungle, and its denizens, was theirs for the taking.

It all went to plan. Both stationed themselves on a tree, on the route they knew the tiger usually took. Sure enough, at about five, the tiger appeared, a huge male padding silently on the path.

The men fired. Both of them. The bullets pierced the tiger's skull.

And that's where the carefully laid out plan went wrong. The tiger did not die. Wounded, and crazed with pain, it escaped, stumbling into a creek. It was dark, too late to follow, and not safe either to trail a wounded tiger.

The two men waited out the night, and though they searched all morning, the tiger was gone, leaving behind a trail of blood.

Their second stroke of ill-luck could be blamed on jowar or high tide, which carried the by now-dead tiger into the placid waters of the Bidya river, not too far from the Dobanki camp. The body was to be discovered over two days later, not by the Forest Department, but tourists, who informed the officials.

The dead, they say, tell no tales. This one did. The discovery of this carcass was an indicator of the rot that had set in the Sundarban Tiger Reserve, especially in the last few years. Here is a brief account of the decline of the reserve that once held the largest number of wild tigers in the world.

The numbers game

The million dollar question: How many tigers are there in the Sundarbans? The State insists on a grand total of 274, as concluded in the 2004 census by the pugmark method — a method which is already under fire for its tendency to lend itself to manipulation. A consequent analysis of the pugmarks by the Indian Statistical Institute (ISI) in 2006 put the number of tigers at about 75. Though the software was developed at the behest of the State Government, the Government was quick to trash it.

Experts stress that the Sundarbans simply does not have the prey base to sustain a tiger population of 274. Conservation scientist Dr Ullas Karanth explains that the Sundarbans is an ecologically poor tiger habitat, with a very low prey population. In places like, say, Kanha or Kaziranga, which are good habitats with grasslands etc, and prey is plenty, tiger densities may even be 15 to 18 per 100 km. But the Sundarbans "cannot have more than 50 to 60 tigers, and the claimed figure of 274 is complete nonsense."

There has been no tiger census in these forests for the past four years. The State also found a way to wriggle out of the recent countrywide census. Was it because the census used a more reliable technology, as opposed to the old pugmark method? Sources in the National Tiger Conservation Authority say "the census could not be carried out in Sundarbans because the Central assistance given to West Bengal for radio collaring of tigers required for their estimation as per the new all-India census was not made available to the Wildlife Institute of India (WII), in spite of repeated reminders."

Why is West Bengal not releasing the money, if it has nothing to hide?

The census was carried out in three phases. The first phase was conducted in the Sundarbans. The WII scientists, and Ministry of Environment and Forest officials who came for that phase of the survey, drew an alarming preliminary conclusion. It was all off the record, of course, but this is what they said: "Very little prey base, and no more than 50 tigers in the reserve."

Hunting parties

So, where have the tigers gone? The primary cause of their disappearance is poaching, though the Forest Department denies it vehemently. Some poaching cases have made it to the headlines — those that are on record are quoted here later — but these, say officers who have worked in the Sundarbans, are a mere fraction of the actual number. Most cases go undetected.

Some come to the notice of the Forest Department, and are 'buried' thereafter, without making it to the records. Like the tiger you see in the photograph just above. This tiger was never a statistic, he just never existed. This photograph was taken by a forester in 2002.

I manage a meeting with an undercover investigator who spoke on condition of anonymity. "You can get tiger skin if you go through proper channels," he explained. Proper channels mean regular traders, or a foreigner or outsiders if they come through people who are in the business. "The skin and bones are smuggled from Canning to Kolkata — mostly by train. It's almost risk free: after five in the evening, the crowd thins, and checking is non-existent. All it takes is Rs 10,000 advance, and some time to make contact with the 'right' people."

Dearth of prey

The other cause for the decline of tiger numbers is insufficient prey base. People killing deer for meat is routine. I met a villager, Mullakhalla. Not in his village — people would see him talk to a stranger, word would spread, and there would be trouble. "You can buy it," Mullakhalla told me, "in the market at Canning, or in the haats, for about Rs 150 a kilo." The meat is not openly displayed, but usually delivered at the doorsteps of regular buyers, or those who leave word with the hunters. It's also sold at the New Market in Kolkata, where the price goes up to Rs 200."

Not that the Forest Department is unaware of this. Former Park Director Niraj Singhal, in an attempt to cover-up the recent tiger poaching case, said that the "killers were trying to poach deer, which is extremely saleable at this time of the year."

A Ranger posted in the reserve explains that there are hundreds of permits issued for fishing, and "who knows who goes fishing, and who comes back with deer meat? The latter is more lucrative." The past three years has also seen a sharp increase in tigers straying into villages — and while the Forest Department thumps its chest and wild cats stray into cities, the real story is that lack of food is driving the tiger towards human habitation.

Hunting sharks and dolphins in the area is not infrequent too. The former are killed to brew into a soup, the latter slaughtered for meat, oil and other body parts that apparently possess aphrodisiac powers. Sharks are killed round the year, but face the highest risk in April, May and June — traditionally lean months for fishing. Poached sharks are crammed into illegal godowns in Kakdwip and sold to big hotels, and smuggled to Korea and East and Southeast Asian countries after processing.

Whither protection?

There is little doubt that wildlife vigilance in the Sundarbans has hit an all-time low in the past three years — a fact reiterated by conservationists. Why else would the carcass of a tiger float about unnoticed for two days?

Sushil Gian is a villager from Pakhirola. He says he goes into the core area for fishing, which is not permitted. Many people venture into this area — the catch is much better, and there isn't much of a risk of being caught. He says he has rarely come across a patrolling boat.

In another village, Samshernagar, on the border with Bangladesh, the sarpanch tells us that over 65 per cent of the village is dependent on the forest — and the people will venture inside the reserve forest, or the forbidden sanctuary area — whether they have a permit or not.

That monitoring is abysmal is indicated by the increase in the number of tiger attacks — lack of monitoring ensures that more fishermen and honey gatherers enter the core areas — and are hence more vulnerable to tiger attacks. In the period 2003-2006, tiger attacks declined, so much so that in 2006, no human mortality was reported. In 2008, about 10 people were killed by tigers, a majority after venturing into the forbidden core areas.

The lack of vigilance has another sinister angle. Intelligence sources say that these porous borders are used to infiltrate arms. The same sources confirm that wildlife derivatives, such as tiger skins, are also used to barter for arms.

Lies, lies and more lies

I spoke to the Chief Wildlife Warden of West Bengal, SB Mondol, who expectedly denied that there was any laxity in patrolling, and also said patrolling has been "tightened."

I asked him why the Sundarbans wasn't part of the all-India census. Mondol said that the census has not yet been taken for West Bengal. "Buxa also, and some cases in Assam. I think only the numbers for central India have been released."

His answer was a shock — he is the head of wildlife of the State, how can he be unaware that the All-India Tiger Census figures were released in May 2008, and have been hitting the headlines ever since because of the critically low tiger numbers that they have revealed?

Mondol also refuted the charge that poaching of tigers occurs in the Sundarbans. In fact he said that there had been no poaching there since 2001. These, however, are the facts:


July 30, 2001: A tiger poached at Pakhiralay in the Sundarbans.


October 11, 2001: Poaching at Kishorimohanpur on the eastern fringes of the Sunderbans.


July 2003: Seizure of tiger skins from Jhila in Gosaba.


December 27, 2003: A skin is recovered by Sundarbans officials in Kolkata. The two people arrested are from Kumirmari in the Sundarbans.


July 19, 2005: One tiger skin seized from the Nagerbazar area in Kolkata. Though no arrest was made, investigations indicated that the skin was from a Sundarbans tiger, as was another skin seized from Kolkata's Ruby Bazaar area in 2007. Kolkata is a transit point for skins that make their way to China, and other East and Southeast Asian countries, through Nepal and Tibet.


August 31, 2005: Seizure of one tiger and one deer skin in Raigidi on the fringes of the tiger reserve.

Will the Forest Department please explain how tiger skins and bones were found in the heart of the Sundarbans, if the tigers were not killed there? Remember too that many experts say that these incidents are not even a mere fraction of the actual poaching.

The only consolation, says a Ministry official, is that the Sundarbans will not be another Sariska. Not because it is well-protected, but because parts of the terrain are still impregnable, and where the Royal Bengal Tiger may still hold his own.

January 25, The Pioneer