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Summer 1993.
We boarded a train from Dehradun to Delhi. While my fascination as a child of looking out of the window immediately drew me to the window seat, Maa and Papa got into a quick conversation about a passenger seated in the same coach. They grabbed my hand and took me along to meet him, I could not figure out why. I was a mere six-year-old child then. As we stepped in, for the first time I understood what people with an aura around them looked like. Very simply dressed, he was a humble-looking old man who had a twinkle in his eyes when he smiled at me. My parents asked him if we could borrow a couple of his minutes. Politeness personified, with his hands folded in Namaste, he asked us to sit down. He then asked me my name and opened his bag. A present maybe, Santa Claus type, popped in my mind. He then took out three books, signed them and presented them to me. I was thrilled! On all the three books with different titles, two things were in common; illustrations of trees and the name of the author, ‘Sunderlal Bahuguna.’ With his right hand on my head to bless me, he told me, “Beta, pedon ki hamesha raksha karna, naye lagana aur purane katne mat dena.” I felt it was not only a note of guidance but also an order from his end. I nodded my head in affirmative and smiled because trees had always been friends, thanks to parents who had already sensitized me to nature by then and my Ann Mary School in Dehradun that regularly took us for plantation drives for nurturing us. We then exchanged greetings and thanked him for his time and for the books he had gifted me. It is only with time I realised the treasure that those three books are and the honour I had to meet the founder of Chipko Movement. It is from then that I had a promise to keep, to be the best friend of trees. Period.
The 18th of May, 2020. There was a strange chirping of birds in the evening, it seemed they were in distress. We stepped out only to find a big bald patch of land that was once home to lovely trees, that was now left with nine tree stumps. It was a huge shock. Somebody, had come to murder the trees in the afternoon when most of the homes closed their doors and windows to save themselves of the harrowing heat of Baroda, Gujarat. Maa called up the RWA President to enquire about the matter. He said the Sarpanch had the permission to cut all the trees as he wanted a road built and the remaining ones would be gone too in a day or so. As a compensation to the full grown trees, the Sarpanch had promised to plant gulmohar once the road developed. We went into panic as the remaining trees had to be saved. Why on earth could not the trees let be even if the road was to be developed? Development can never be at the cost of nature after all! Maa dialled the Forest officials and they said someone would turn up to investigate the matter the following day and ensure the trees are not cut and the road be developed without touching the trees. It was a huge relief, but tomorrow had a very different story to tell.
On the morning of the 19th of May, 2020, as soon as parents left to tend to hundreds of street dogs of Baroda, I finished my house chores, fed the eight Desi dogs who make our house a home, and stood on stand by with keys and mask to step out any moment I would get to hear an axe. At around eight-thirty, I was able to hear some movement and Chutki’s bark further corroborated that. I spotted two gentlemen. I called out to them from the balcony to check if they were from the Forest Department. They nodded their head affirmatively. I quickly grabbed the lock and rushed to be on the spot. While I closed onto them, I saw them taking a stock of the situation. They checked the site, took a count of the trees, saw the tree stumps from last year’s felling (cut in the pretext of road development that was never really made) and the remains of previous day’s tree felling. In the meantime, the forest official informed me that the Talati would be coming with the papers in a few minutes. He also showed me a letter (now when I look back in a ‘Ashwathama mara gaya lekin haathi’ fashion) containing the signature of the Mamlatdar in a letter that supposedly gave the Sarpanch the permission to cut all the trees.
While we waited for the Talati to make an appearance, I engaged them in a conversation that road development could happen keeping the trees intact. Suddenly, a blue SUV drew up. A gentleman, I was not aware of his identity, got down from the car and asked the forest officials who had filed the complaint. Surprisingly, they both stayed mum with their eyes down. It spoke volumes about the power of the said gentleman. Then I added that it was us. Staring in a very dirty manner at me, he closed on the distance of five feet between us and menacingly asked me what my problem was. I said I had no problem at all. I just wanted that the trees be not cut and rather let be even if the road was to be constructed. I told him there are ample examples wherein roads have been developed by keeping the trees intact. He then repeated, “Kahan hota hai aisa? (Where does it happen)?” several times! The tone and the dirty look were more than enough indication not to meddle in his affairs. I felt threatened for my physical safety and risk of COVID. I then asked him to identify himself. He disclosed he was the Sarpanch of Talsat. While all this happened, the two forest officials watched the tamasha.
The Sarpanch then took the two forest officials along the path wherein the supposed road was to be constructed. Meanwhile, I dialled a supposed environment activist to seek his help. He had just one thing to say, “It is very easy to cut trees these days.” That is not what I had called him for so I cut the conversation knowing the futile direction it was heading to. As soon as I kept the phone, the Sarpanch made a move and the two Forest officials said that the Talati instead of coming to the location, had called them to their office wherein they would go and check the papers and accordingly inform their superiors. That put the matters to rest.
I returned home with a lot of anger and frustration inside me. Even though the Sarpanch may have had all his papers in order to recklessly cut the trees in the name of development, did he also have an authority to misbehave with a wo’man’ who raised an objection to protect the nature? Could he have been amicable in his approach? I had not been standing at the location to pick up a fight but to rationalise and chalk out a mid-path that would let the trees be and also let the road come up. Why was he so drunk in power that the common man like me felt threatened? Why were the two Forest officials’ mute spectators of the tamasha?
By the time parents returned home, I had penned down my anger and drafted a letter for the authorities. I did not know the consequences that my family and I would have to bear, but I had to stand by what I felt was morally right. Maa called up the Forest official who had promised that he would not let any more trees be cut. He had taken a U-turn on his promise by then stating that the papers were in order. The very people who were supposed to protect the trees, allowed them to be cut. Strange and beyond comprehension!
Then came hope in the form of an advocate who also happens to be an animal lover. He showed the way ahead. I filed the complaint while Maa fixed up an appointment with the District Collector and the advocate had a look at the papers that revealed the shocking reality. Please read the article below for further insight into the matter.
I shared this episode for the common man to draw inspiration, courage and be the voice of those who cannot speak for themselves, and not be a tamasha watcher. We have abused Mother Earth enough and she is paying us back, COVID-19 is a silent reminder of that. Let us pledge to protect her elements.
