Guard duty

“It’s a tough task. Those who say guns are not needed should spend some time with us”

PLACE: SOMEWHERE IN THE FOREST OF SINDEWAHI,DIST. CHANDRAPUR,MAHARASHTRA

TIME: 5.30 a.m.

As dawn breaks,Avinash Amawar hurries through his morning chores. Clad in a pair of checkered three-fourth pants and a black T-shirt,he looks more like an amateur wildlifer than a khaki-sporting forest guard. Sitting on the concrete top of a desk mounted on wooden pillars in front of a machan,he sips a cup of sweet black tea. Before the temperature shoots up to 47 degree celsius,Amawar and his two assistants,Varte Kaka and Gangadhar Gaikwad,set out for their first task of the day. While Gangadhar carries an axe on his shoulder,the bespectacled Kaka carries a tracing glass to pick up the pugmarks of big cats,if any. Amawar is armed with only a binocular and a small digital camera—for all the shoot-at-sight hype over poaching in Maharashtra,he doesn’t have a gun.

As the trio walks towards the lake,a wild boar comes down the bund slope,ignoring the men advancing towards him. “Hud,hud,” shouts Gangadhar. The boar reluctantly gives way. Close to the receded water,they check the soft mud. Amawar moves towards a tree fitted with a camera trap. He removes the memory card and puts it inside his camera to see if any big cat had come that way. There was none. “The problem with the camera trap is the animals who see its flash keep away. Also,they are watchful as it is the only unnatural object around,” Amawar says. He replaces the batteries and fits it back on the tree.

About 300 metres away is another camera. And this one has taken beautiful photos of a pack of wild dogs. “There are about 15 in this pack. They are ruthless hunters. Because of them,even the tiger visits this place cautiously,” says Amawar.

Among the horde of visitors to the lake are cheetals,blue bulls and a huge number of peacocks. “Sometimes there are as many as 40-50 of them around,” says Amawar.

After walking for about two kilometres around the lake,the group returns to the machan around 7.30 a.m. Round officer Vasant Kamdi arrives on his motorbike. After having poha for breakfast and another round of tea,the group is off to the other routine of the day.

“Apart from 24-hour monitoring,intensified after the red alert sounded for poachers out to kill 25 tigers,I have to also work in the office at Sindewahi and the plantation nursery,” says Amawar. “Also,there are ‘cattle kill’ cases to be dealt with.”

“It’s a tough task. Those who say guns are not needed should spend some time with us. The poachers and teak smugglers are very powerful. We are rendered ineffective when they come in threateningly large numbers. Guns are necessary as a deterrent,” Amawar says.

While his assistants belong to Kacchepar village about six kilometres away,35-year-old Amawar belongs to Brahmapuri,a tehsil town 40 km away. “I stay alone in a quarter. My wife and daughter stay in our house in Brahmapuri. The quarter isn’t sufficient to accommodate my family and parents,” says Amawar who gets to visit his family only once a month. Amawar,who became a forest guard in 2006,ran an electronics sales-and-service shop before switching to his present job for reasons of “stability”.

Amawar and Kamdi come from families that have served the Forest Department for many years. Amawar’s father was a guard for 25 years before he died of a heart attack. “As a boy,I used to run errands for him when he would be inside forests,” remembers Amawar.

Kamdi,who started off as a guard at 18,was initiated by his grandfather,who retired as Range Forest Officer. A man with great interest in forestry,Kamdi has single-handedly raised two big nurseries that grow rare plant varieties.

Both enjoy the support of the Divisional Forest Officer of Brahmapuri division,Sanjay Thavre,who is widely acknowledged for evolving a monitoring model now being seen as worth emulating. Brahmapuri division forest has about 20 tigers,an impressive number for a non-protected area.

As noon sets in,Amawar leaves on his bike for Sindewahi,16 km away,for some office work. He also devotes some time to the nursery before returning to the monitoring camp. The assistants,meanwhile,keep vigil. Siestas are ruled out since they also have to prepare for dinner. Some uninvited guests barge in,flaunting connection with higher-ups. “They named you,” says Gangadhar when Kamdi asks him why they were allowed. “Don’t allow anyone. Call me up. Don’t you know about the red alert?” says Kamdi.

As darkness envelops the watch-point,a mud stove flickers meekly. Bird and animal calls suggest big cats are somewhere around. By 11 p.m.,everybody is atop the machan. “Can you see those two huge wild boars?” Amawar tries hard to keep his voice down. You would see the animals only if you could match his seasoned sight. The beam of a huge battery reveals the animals.

Around 11.30 p.m.,Amawar sees a sparkling pair of eyes in the darkness near the lake. “It’s a leopard,” he says calmly. “Wait,it might come down here near the machan.” A long wait,however,proves futile as the animal slides away.

There is no sign of a tiger. “Last I saw one was in April,” says Amawar. About four kilometres away is another waterhole that,however,is visited these days by a tigress and two cubs,says Kamdi.

Big cats often cross their path when they are out patrolling. “They are harmless. Have you heard of forest staffers being attacked by them? We need to see the man-animal conflict in a more responsible manner,” says Kamdi.

Amawar doesn’t hesitate to list their problems. “There should be more GPS units. We have to go to Sindewahi every time to fetch one since it is used by many. One has to spend a lot of petrol for fetching the GPS and coming back. We might even miss reporting important data and it can get discouraging. ” he says.

Two years ago,the staff was given personal digital assistants that simultaneously act as GPS,cameras and mobile phones. They,however,need to be recharged frequently to be used as GPS. “It hasn’t been recharged for the past one year,” says Kamdi. Clearly,it has been reduced to a mere mobile phone. The Forest Department has no funds to spend on the recharging that takes about Rs 1,000 per phone.

Odds heavily stacked against them,Kamdi and Amawar still love their job. “Which other job offers such fresh air and proximity to nature? And also gives a salary,” says Amawar. Kamdi agrees.