Why a book prototype on the seven biodiversity parks of Delhi is important

The book has explanations on how different ecosystems work, how everything in nature is connected and how the circle of life goes on

Yamuna Biodiversity Park, Professor CR Babu, Delhi biodiversity parks, Environmental restoration in Delhi, Deep water body at Yamuna Biodiversity Park, Birdwatching at Yamuna Biodiversity Park, Observing bird species

Cormorant drying its wings at the Yamuna Biodiversity Park. (Credit: Ranjit Lal)

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What strikes you as soon as you pass through the gates is the overwhelming sense of serenity and calm. This is one quality that the Yamuna Biodiversity Park has always had and I could feel myself relaxing automatically as I got out of the car. Inside the office I was delighted to meet Professor CR Babu of the Centre for the Environmental Management of Degraded Ecosystems, who along with his zealous team, has over the last 20-odd years transformed what was once a wasteland into a thriving wonderland, brimming and humming with life. This was not the only arid, devastated landscape they have rejuvenated around the city: Delhi now has seven biodiversity parks – each with its own habitat and with its own ecosystem, which has been restored, and should we say rewilded. All are works in progress, but the results are already plain to see.

I made this visit after a very, very long gap and quickly made my way to what’s called the ‘deep water body’ which, in winter, plays host to a myriad of waterfowl. This morning there are just a handful of birds paddling along in the serene waters. Cormorants glide around in pairs, their noses in the air like socialites at a party or scissor across the sky, before circling and landing. There are several darters too, so low in the water only their javelin bills thrust through the surface as they cleave their way across it. On the island, in the middle of the lake, a bevy of spot-bill ducks, quack in that comfortable contralto way ducks have when they are at ease. With their salt-and-pepper plumage, and yellow-tipped bills, and orange ‘bindi’, not to mention heavily kohl-lined eyes, they look like classical dancers getting ready for a recital. A purple heron flies off towards the far bank, and folds away amid the rushes, vanishing instantly. A snake swims right across the lake only its head sticking out as it makes a beeline towards the shore, too far away to identify. There are tiny-tot warblers playing hide-and-seek in the rushes, too fleeting to pin down.

So yes, there may be just a few species but suddenly you realise one thing: You are getting to spend quality time with them, to observe and appreciate them like you wouldn’t have, had there been 20 or 30 species around. You can admire them to your heart’s content: the snazzy gunmetal streaks on the darter’s outspread wings, black as polished obsidian and its chocolate brown sinuous neck, and jet-black paddle-like tail. Normally, you would never had had the time to notice how amused the cormorants appear to be, or the sheer calmness with which they glide across the water. It’s something like the difference between attending a raucous cocktail party and meeting a small gathering of friends.

Salmon Arab butterflies, compact in yellow and black with tinges of orange, sun themselves, and stay in the same spot for as long as you could wish. A perfect, Peacock Pansy, shows off its burnt orange wings and large, mauve-touched eyespots beautifully in the bright sunlight. Suddenly it folds its wings and virtually vanishes! The undersides of the wings are the exact shade of the twig it is on. This could cause some confusion for an approaching predator: blink and it’s gone!

Back in the office I now meet up with Faiyaz Khudsar, the ebullient ‘boots-on-the-ground’ man who, with an equally committed team, has overseen the development of this, and some of the other biodiversity parks. I asked him about how the recent floods affected the park, and he grins and says, “They had zero effect! The grass went under and then just grew back again! No damage!” Which just goes to show how important a natural floodplain is: it knows how to deal with these matters. And then Faiyaz produced a surprise for me: a large, beautifully illustrated book on all of Delhi’s seven biodiversity parks.

It is a heavy book and, outlining the history of the development of each park, has photographs showing flora and fauna, the seasons, and the habitat, as well as ‘before-and-after’ shots, which give you a true idea of what has been achieved. The text – with clear diagrams and charts explains how they went about dealing with each park – which had their individual sets of challenges and problems. It is the kind of book that ought to be in every school and college library and government office and waiting room, not only in Delhi, but all over the country. There were explanations as to how the different ecosystems work, and how everything in nature is connected, how the circle of life goes on, shown in a manner even the most attention-deficient schoolchild or deadwood bureaucrat could understand. I spent some 40 minutes leafing slowly through it and then asked a fatal question. “So, is this going to be in every school and college library and be made mandatory reading?”

“No! Not yet!” This was just a prototype, and they had not been given the go-ahead – or the funds to print and publish it. You think of all the current futile projects on which hundreds of crores are being dumped and want to curl up. There is so much negativity surrounding environmental issues these days that people just blank them out, and here was an example of what can be, and has been achieved in the field. For a schoolchild or university student, a government official or anyone remotely interested in nature and the environment there could be no better encouragement to hold on to some hope and get involved. To bury this book would be criminal.