The Tiger Returns- A Gujarat Wilderness Reborn

The tiger that had entered Gujarat from Madhya Pradesh drinking from an artificial waterhole.

In the early months of 2025, an unexpected chapter began unfolding in the wild heart of Gujarat. For the first time in nearly three decades, the unmistakable presence of a tiger— a young, five-year-old male—was captured on camera. Having journeyed from the forests of neighbouring Madhya Pradesh, the solitary cat was first glimpsed moving quietly along the edges of the Ratanmahal Wildlife Sanctuary in Dahod district. What followed was months of careful observation. Forest officials tracked his silent patrols, his shifting routes, and his growing confidence in the unfamiliar terrain. Now, nine months on, they have confirmed what few dared to imagine: the tiger has settled. Ratanmahal, after 32 long years, once again hosts a resident big cat. The announcement has been hailed as a milestone for conservation. Gujarat’s Forest Minister, Arjun Modhwadia, called it a moment of immense pride—proof that the state’s patchwork of ecosystems is robust enough to welcome back one of India’s most demanding predators. Wildlife experts, too, have underscored the significance of this return, highlighting the success of the ecological corridors that link Gujarat with Madhya Pradesh. With the tiger now staking his claim in this landscape, the challenge turns to the future. Conservation teams are working to ensure a healthy prey base and secure habitat—essential ingredients for the long-term survival of this remarkable new resident.

Camera trap footage showing the tiger.

The tiger’s official return to Gujarat casts a revealing light on the quiet, painstaking work of conservation—on the wildlife corridors that stitch together fragmented habitats and allow long-lost species to reclaim their former territories. Once, tigers roamed freely from the northern reaches of Gujarat to its southern forests. But by the early 2000s, the species had vanished from the state, declared locally extinct after decades of decline. Then, in 2019, came a fleeting sign of hope: a lone tiger, having crossed into Mahisagar district from Rajasthan, was recorded within Gujarat’s borders. Its life, however, was tragically short—found dead only two weeks later, its promise unrealised. Now, six years on, a new chapter has begun. Another tiger has not only entered Gujarat but chosen to remain, settling into the landscape as if reclaiming a birthright. The news has stirred a sense of cautious optimism across the conservation community. With this remarkable return, Gujarat once again stands as a stronghold for all three of India’s iconic big cats: the Asiatic lion, the leopard, and now, once more, the tiger.

Another camera footage showing the tiger.

While safeguarding the future of this lone tiger is undeniably vital, its presence also signals a broader responsibility: to prepare Gujarat’s landscapes for the arrival of others that may follow. That effort begins with the careful mapping of wildlife corridors—natural pathways linking Gujarat with Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh, and Maharashtra. Each corridor must be studied in detail, its reach traced, its connection to protected areas understood, for these routes form the lifelines that allow wide-ranging predators to move safely across the subcontinent.Within Ratanmahal and its neighbouring forests, a modest prey base already exists—four-horned antelope (chousingha), muntjac (barking deer), and wild boar. Though all are part of the tiger’s natural diet, they alone cannot support a stable population. Elsewhere in India, the tiger relies heavily on chital (spotted deer), sambar, and the mighty gaur (Indian bison)—species once common across North and South Gujarat, now lost to history. Restoring these animals to their former ranges would not only strengthen the prey density needed for tigers to thrive, but would also rejuvenate the ecological balance of the region’s forests.

Ratanmahal Wildlife Sanctuary

Equally important is the human dimension. Effective conservation depends on informed and engaged communities. Public awareness initiatives can help local villagers understand the ecological value of tigers and their prey, while equipping them with practical ways to reduce conflict and coexist safely with wildlife. The return of the tiger to Gujarat is more than an isolated triumph—it is a reminder of what remains possible. It offers renewed hope for the state’s wildlife, and for the long-term vitality of the forests that sustain them.                 

Saving the Blackbuck and Nilgai- India’s Most Humane Wildlife Mission

Nilgai in India's Ranthambore National Park

Across the plains of India roam two remarkable antelopes: the elegant blackbuck and the imposing nilgai, or “blue bull.” For centuries, these animals have lived not only in the landscape but in the imagination of the subcontinent, their forms etched into Mughal paintings and echoed through ancient texts. Their significance stretches beyond natural history into the realm of the sacred. The blackbuck, said to pull the chariot of Lord Krishna and revered as the vahana (mount) of Vayu, the god of winds, holds a special place in Hindu tradition. The nilgai, with its towering frame and subtly contoured horns—so reminiscent of domestic cattle—carries a sanctity of its own; its very name, meaning “blue cow,” hints at a spiritual kinship that has long granted it protection and respect. Here, in these creatures, the story of India’s wildlife and its cultural soul intertwine.

Blackbuck

Yet even creatures wrapped in centuries of reverence can find themselves in conflict with the people who share their land. For many farming communities, blackbucks and nilgais have become habitual raiders of precious crops, prompting several states to resort to culling in an effort to stem the losses. But in Madhya Pradesh, a gentler solution has taken shape—one that seeks to preserve both livelihoods and lives. In an ambitious 11-day operation, the state’s forest department, working alongside a 15-member specialist team from South Africa’s Conservation Solutions, undertook the relocation of 913 antelopes from farmland to forest. Conservationists trained local officers in the art of humane capture before the fieldwork began. From above, a Robinson-44 helicopter guided the animals toward a carefully constructed “boma”—a wide, funnel-shaped enclosure woven from grass and green netting, designed to usher the herds safely inside. Once secured, the antelopes were transported to protected havens including Gandhi Sagar Sanctuary, Kuno National Park, Nauradehi Wildlife Sanctuary, and Veerangana Durgavati Wildlife Sanctuary. According to Forest Divisional Officer Beerendra Kumar Patel, who oversaw the mission, the method ensured the animals experienced as little stress as possible. Veterinarians, he added, relied on remote dosing techniques to administer medicines when needed—an approach that kept the operation calm, controlled, and remarkably humane.

Illustration of nilgai by painter and naturalist Ustad Mansur.

Illustration of a lady and a blackbuck.

In the end, this humane approach to managing blackbuck and nilgai numbers has done more than simply shield crops from damage; it has fostered a renewed trust between local communities and the forest authorities. Villagers, once frustrated by the nightly incursions of large herds, became partners in the effort, sharing vital information that helped guide the relocation teams. The project has also drawn wide commendation—from Chief Minister Mohan Yadav to Shajapur MLA Arun Bhimawad—who hailed the initiative for bringing long-awaited relief to farmers whose livelihoods had been repeatedly threatened. As a pilot project, its success signals a promising new chapter in human–wildlife coexistence. A strategy that protects both people and antelopes, carried out with care, expertise, and respect, stands as a rare and welcome model. One hopes that this thoughtful, non-lethal method will inspire similar efforts across India, wherever the delicate balance between agriculture and wildlife still hangs in the balance.  

At Bandipur’s Edge- Navigating Human Fear and the Science of Tiger Conflicts

Bengal tiger

In southern India, along the mist-lined fringes of Bandipur National Park, a series of unsettling encounters has shaken the farming communities that border the forest. In October 2025, 35-year-old farmer Chowdaiah Nayak set out to plough his field—a routine task he had done countless times. But on this morning, the forest watched back. From behind, a tiger emerged, launching a swift and silent attack, dragging Nayak into the dense undergrowth. As the sun dipped toward the horizon, a search party of anxious relatives and villagers pushed their way into the forest. Deep inside a secluded ditch, they made a grim discovery: Nayak’s partially eaten remains. He was the third farmer to lose his life to a tiger in just days—each attack occurring along the vulnerable borderlands of Bandipur’s vast reserve. The news spread quickly, igniting outrage among villagers who had long felt unheard. Their frustration boiled over when Range Forest Officer Amrutha and her team arrived; some farmers, overwhelmed by grief and fear, reportedly attempted to confront her.

The escalating tension prompted swift action. Forest Minister Eshwara B. Khandre ordered an immediate halt to tourist safaris in Bandipur and neighboring Nagarhole, along with a suspension of trekking in conflict-prone zones. Every available staff member—right down to safari drivers—was called into service for a single mission: find the tiger. Days passed as trackers combed through ravines, riverbeds, and thickets where sunlight barely reached. At last, in Bandipur’s Moleyur range, they located a tiger matching the descriptions. The big cat was tranquilized and transported to Mysuru Zoo’s Chamundi Wildlife Conservation, Rescue and Rehabilitation Center. DNA analysis will ultimately confirm whether this animal was responsible. Yet forest officials already suspect the aging tiger, weakened and increasingly unable to hunt wild prey, had turned to easier targets along the forest edge—a tragic intersection of survival, territory, and human life.

Bandipur National Park

Before any conclusions can be drawn, the story now hinges on a crucial piece of evidence: the DNA tests. Only by comparing the captured tiger’s genetic samples with those taken from the attack sites can we know, with certainty, whether this animal was truly behind the three recent killings—and whether it should bear the grave label of “maneater.” By the National Tiger Conservation Authority’s own criteria, the manner in which Chowdaiah Nayak was killed fits the profile. But the question remains: is this the tiger responsible, or are we once again chasing the wrong shadow? History offers a cautionary tale. In 2023, following the death of a young boy in Nagarhole National Park, mounting pressure from frightened villagers led authorities to seize a tiger they believed was the culprit. During transport, the animal broke its canine teeth—an injury that sealed its fate. Unable to hunt, it could never return to the wild. And yet, in the end, it was not the killer. The true predator slipped back into the forest, unseen and unchallenged. It is a stark reminder of what can happen when fear overtakes patience, when communities desperate for safety demand immediate action. Today, as anger and anxiety ripple through the villages bordering Bandipur National Park, we can see a familiar pattern emerging. And once again, the future of a tiger—and the safety of those who live alongside this ancient wilderness—rests on whether we choose certainty over haste.     

Nagarhole National Park

Relying solely on a tiger’s age, its physical condition, or the wear of its teeth is no longer enough to determine whether it has turned to killing humans. Such clues may have served researchers in an earlier era, before the rise of modern genetics. But today, with sophisticated DNA analysis at our fingertips, we have the means to reach far more definitive answers. For that reason, the investigation into the three recent attacks must continue. By monitoring which tigers stray into villages and farmland, authorities can identify potential suspects, capture them safely, and analyze their DNA. Only then can we match each animal to each incident—and know, beyond speculation, which tiger was responsible. Crucially, the communities living along the forest’s edge must understand that this process takes time. Fear and frustration are natural responses, but pressuring wildlife officials into acting hastily does little to ensure anyone’s safety. Education, patience, and clear communication are essential if these investigations are to unfold without repeating past mistakes. And when a maneater is finally identified, I firmly believe its fate should not be death. Such animals—rare, dangerous, but still part of India’s natural heritage—should be placed under managed, captive care rather than shot. The same principle applies to leopards, especially in places like Maharashtra, where human–leopard encounters are increasing and where officials have even authorized shoot-on-sight orders. In moments like these, the challenge is clear: to protect human life without abandoning our responsibility to the wildlife that shares this fragile landscape.   

Kaziranga- A Landscape in Motion, A Heritage at Risk

Indian rhino on forest road

In the heart of Assam, where the mighty Brahmaputra winds through a landscape of mist and monsoon, lies Kaziranga National Park — a realm that shelters some of India’s most extraordinary creatures. Here, elephants roam in gentle herds, wild water buffalo graze by glimmering pools, and the great one-horned rhinoceros — the park’s most enduring symbol — stands watch over the floodplains. For over a century, Kaziranga’s vast grasslands and whispering forests have formed a sanctuary of life, teeming with the pulse of the wild. But beneath this timeless beauty, quiet changes have been unfolding. A recent study by the Wildlife Institute of India reveals a startling loss: over 300 square kilometers of grassland have vanished in the last hundred years. Researcher Umar Saeed and his team traced this transformation by blending old topographic maps with modern satellite imagery, mapping a story that spans more than a century. What they discovered is both fascinating and sobering — since 1913, Kaziranga’s grasslands have shrunk by 318.3 square kilometers, an area roughly the size of Kolkata.

As the grasslands receded, the forests crept in. What once covered a mere 0.6 square kilometers of woodland in 1913 has now expanded to more than 229. Waterbodies that had once swelled with each flood began to diminish after 2013, a sign of shifting rivers and changing hydrology. And in the skies above, the climate, too, has been altering — the hottest days now slightly cooler, the nights distinctly warmer. Rainfall has become heavier, the air thicker with humidity, and the soil richer with moisture.

Yet, not all change brings renewal. Scientists warn that while the spread of forests may seem like nature’s triumph, it tells a quieter, more troubling story. The open grasslands — the very lifeblood of Kaziranga’s elephants, buffaloes, and rhinos — are being choked by invasive plants. In the shadow of the trees, a struggle unfolds: a fight to preserve the ancient meadows that have sustained this wild kingdom for generations.

Grassland in Kaziranga

The story unfolding in Kaziranga is not merely one of change — it is a call for renewal. Scientists say the findings underscore an urgent need for adaptive management, strategies that can restore habitats, maintain the delicate balance of water and soil, and build resilience against a shifting climate. For the Brahmaputra floodplains, these actions may decide the difference between persistence and loss. Through the blending of land-use history and climate records, researchers have uncovered a powerful truth: the transformations shaping Kaziranga are driven by both human hands and the changing climate. The once-vast grasslands, lifelines of this ecosystem, are now under siege. At least eight invasive plant species — among them Chromolaena odorata and Mikania micrantha — have crept across the plains, suffocating native grasses and stealing sunlight from the ground below. For the great herbivores of Kaziranga — the rhinos, buffaloes, and deer — these invasions strike at the heart of survival. Species like the hog deer, swamp deer, and sambar rely on open meadows for food and space to roam. As the grasslands shrink, their feeding grounds dwindle, and the delicate rhythms of life begin to falter.

To safeguard this living landscape, scientists stress the importance of identifying and removing invasive plants, reviving the grasslands before they vanish altogether. Alongside this, efforts must focus on restoring the park’s hydrological harmony, strengthening its climate resilience, and curbing human pressures that tip the balance further. For Kaziranga is more than just a protected reserve — it is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, a sanctuary where nature’s grandeur and fragility coexist. Its future, like the river that nourishes it, depends on how we choose to act today.       

The Mountain Ghosts at Risk- Snow Leopards’ Genetic Warning

Snow leopard in Ladakh

High in the windswept peaks of Central and South Asia, among cliffs dusted with snow and silence, lives one of nature’s most enigmatic hunters — the snow leopard. Known as the “ghost of the mountains,” it rules this frozen world with quiet grace, keeping the fragile balance of its high-altitude ecosystem in check. Yet, even this master of the mountains is not beyond danger. For decades, the snow leopard has endured the toll of vanishing habitats, the shadow of poachers, and conflict with humans. But now, scientists have uncovered a new and more subtle threat — one hidden within the animal’s very genes.

An international team of researchers, led by Stanford University biologist Dmitri Petrov, spent years gathering blood and tissue samples from more than forty snow leopards — a genetic treasure trove collected over two decades. When they sequenced the genomes, the results, published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, revealed a troubling truth: snow leopards have unusually low genetic diversity. In a rapidly changing world, that lack of variation could leave them vulnerable. Without enough genetic flexibility, adaptation becomes a struggle — especially as rising temperatures reshape the mountain ranges they call home. Lead author Katie Solari notes that even compared to cheetahs, long known for their genetic uniformity, snow leopards show less diversity still. Yet amid the concern, the scientists found a spark of hope. The data revealed that snow leopards carry fewer harmful genetic mutations — evidence that over generations, natural selection may have quietly purified their lineage, helping them survive despite small, isolated populations.

Now, the research continues. More samples, more stories hidden in the DNA of these elusive cats, waiting to be uncovered. Each discovery brings us closer to understanding how the snow leopard — silent, spectral, and resilient — continues its fight for survival among the world’s highest peaks.

Snow leopards in south Gobi, Mongolia

The survival of the snow leopard is hanging by a thread, and recent research shows why this majestic predator deserves urgent attention. With a global population estimated between 4,000 and 6,500 individuals, these elusive cats face a silent but serious threat: low genetic diversity. Limited variation in their genes can hinder reproduction and leave them more vulnerable to disease, putting the species at risk in ways that are not immediately visible.

The study does offer a glimmer of hope, showing that snow leopards have, over generations, managed to eliminate harmful mutations from their population. Yet this natural resilience may not be enough in the face of rapid environmental change. That is why understanding their genetic makeup is crucial — it could hold the key to developing strategies that ensure these high-altitude hunters endure for generations to come.

Climate change adds another layer of urgency. Rising temperatures and shifting ecosystems threaten to alter the fragile mountain habitats snow leopards depend on. Protecting these environments is not just about preserving scenery; it is about safeguarding the very survival of a species.

And the challenge does not end with snow leopards. Cheetahs, too, face a similar genetic bottleneck. To secure a future for both of these iconic big cats, the world must take decisive, coordinated action — combining research, conservation, and habitat protection — before it is too late.         

Toxic Currents- The Hidden Struggle of the Amazon’s Dolphins

Scientists and veterinarians examine a pink river dolphin in Puerto Narino, Colombia.

In the heart of the Amazon, where sunlight filters through dense canopies and rivers twist like veins of liquid earth, a rare and enchanting creature glides silently beneath the surface—the Amazon river dolphin. Gracefully navigating the currents of South America, it is one of the world’s few freshwater dolphin species, with distant relatives surviving only in parts of South America and southern Asia. Like its cousins, this intelligent mammal depends on echolocation to move through the murky waters and track down prey.

Fishermen help scientists and veterinarians to capture pink river dolphins in the Amazon River.

Yet, despite its remarkable adaptations, the Amazon river dolphin faces a growing list of threats: commercial fishing, heavy boat traffic, entanglement in fishing nets, habitat destruction, pollution, prolonged droughts, and even deliberate hunting for meat. Among these dangers, one of the most alarming is mercury contamination spreading through the Amazon River. This toxic pollution largely stems from illegal gold mining and forest clearing, which release mercury-laden waste into waterways. The metal is used to separate gold from sediment, and when miners dump the leftover sludge back into the rivers, it seeps into the food chain—accumulating in fish, dolphins, and even humans.

Blood sample being drawn for health check.

Marine biologist Fernando Trujillo, director of the Omacha Foundation, reports that his team has found mercury levels in dolphins up to 20–30 times higher than normal. While it’s difficult to prove that mercury poisoning alone is killing the dolphins, Trujillo warns that ongoing studies suggest a grim reality: “Any mammal with a huge amount of mercury will die.” Once symbols of the Amazon’s untamed beauty, these pink dolphins are now silent sentinels of a poisoned world. Their struggle is more than a warning—it’s a reflection of how deeply the fate of nature and humanity are intertwined beneath the shimmering surface of the same river.

Microchip being implanted after health check.

The threat of mercury pollution in the Amazon and its vast network of rivers has reached a critical point. This invisible toxin is endangering not only the region’s iconic pink river dolphins but also the millions of people who rely on these waters for food and livelihood. Recent studies by the International Pollutants Elimination Network and other researchers have revealed alarming mercury exposure among Indigenous communities across Bolivia, Brazil, Colombia, Peru, and Suriname. Hair samples taken from residents showed mercury levels well above the World Health Organization’s safe threshold of one part per million—with one Colombian community recording an astonishing 22 milligrams per kilogram.

Scientists and veterinarians weighing a dolphin after health check.

The health risks are severe. Mercury can damage the brain, lungs, kidneys, and immune system, leading to memory loss, mood changes, and muscle weakness. Children and pregnant women are especially vulnerable, as even small doses during pregnancy can cause developmental delays and lasting cognitive impairments. The dolphins that inhabit these rivers face similar dangers. Trujillo and his team have documented mercury concentrations of 16–18 milligrams per kilogram in Amazon river dolphins, while in the Orinoco River, some individuals tested as high as 42—among the highest levels ever recorded in any species.

Freeing a dolphin after health check.

Despite an international ban on mercury use, illegal gold mining continues across Colombia and throughout the Amazon Basin, releasing the toxic metal into waterways where it accumulates in fish, wildlife, and humans. Over the past few decades, the population of Amazon river dolphins has fallen by more than half, with only an estimated 30,000 to 45,000 remaining. Scientists warn that without stronger enforcement and coordinated regional efforts to curb illegal mining, the Amazon’s rivers—and the lives entwined with them—could face irreversible harm.

Scientists examining blood samples to determine mercury levels.

As dusk settles over the rainforest, the river shimmers with fading light. Somewhere beneath the surface, a pink silhouette glides through the shadows, ancient and aware. The Amazon river dolphin endures—for now—carrying within its silent world the story of a river in peril, and a reminder of how fragile the balance between life and loss has become. If the waters fall silent, it will not be the dolphins alone that disappear—it will be a part of the Amazon’s soul.             

Roaming Back Home- The Tiger’s Quiet Comeback in Gujarat

Bengal tiger

Six years ago, Gujarat experienced an unexpected brush with the wild when a tiger appeared near Lunavada in Mahisagar district. Camera traps confirmed its presence, suggesting it had wandered in from Rajasthan, likely in search of new ground. Tragically, that journey ended in suspected poisoning. Now, another tiger has emerged in the state—this time a five-year-old male, repeatedly seen along the edges of the Ratanmahal Sloth Bear Sanctuary in Dahod district. This sanctuary borders Madhya Pradesh’s Jhabua and Kathiwada, regions teeming with tigers. According to wildlife officials, the newcomer may be pushed by rising tiger numbers in neighboring states. Still, with no signs of territory-marking, it’s too early to say Gujarat has a resident tiger once again. The last time the state hosted a tiger population was back in 1989, when about a dozen roamed the Dang forests. By 1992, tigers had vanished, and Gujarat was declared officially tiger-free.

Sloth bear

I sincerely hope that this tiger will one day establish its territory in Gujarat, making it the only state in India where lions, leopards, and tigers coexist. In the meantime, it’s essential to closely monitor its movements to understand its range, proximity to human settlements, and the wildlife it encounters during its search for new territory. The Ratanmahal Sloth Bear Sanctuary—aptly named for its thriving population of sloth bears—is one of five such sanctuaries in Gujarat where the species flourishes. In other regions of India, sloth bears and tigers share overlapping habitats, and interactions between them are not uncommon. These encounters can result in a bear successfully deterring a tiger through defensive behavior, the bear falling prey, or injuries to both animals. Understanding how this tiger navigates such dynamics will be crucial. Additionally, documenting signs of territorial behavior—such as claw marks, urine spraying, and scat—will offer valuable insights into whether the tiger intends to settle in the area.

Entrance to Ratanmahal Wildlife Sanctuary

I am also encouraged by the response of local authorities in Dahod district, who have advised villagers not to panic over the tiger’s presence. Fear often leads to tragic outcomes, including retaliatory killings. A recent incident in Assam, where a tiger was brutally killed and mutilated by an enraged mob, underscores the urgency of addressing such conflicts with compassion and knowledge. These violent acts are not only unjustifiable but also severely undermine conservation efforts for apex predators like tigers. Raising awareness through community education and promoting coexistence strategies are vital steps toward fostering harmony between humans and wildlife, especially in areas where such interactions are increasingly inevitable.