Where conservation is the only religion

In my mind, the Bishnois were synonymous only with their efforts to save the blackbuck. That was until I travelled to Rajasthan and realised they are protectors of nature as a whole. It will certainly warm the cockles of every conservationist to know that there are 10 lakh Bishnois in the state and are not a ‘marginal community’.

Their religion was founded by Lord Jambheshwar who is believed to be an incarnation of Lord Vishnu, the preserver of all that’s created on earth. It is probably the only religion in the world that’s grounded primarily in conservation.

Legend has it that from the age of eight to 34, Jambheshwar led the life of a cowherd. He was born into the warrior clan of Rajputs but chose a different life. Instead of developing hunting skills, he learned to communicate with living beings.

A matter of  principles
At Samrathal, in the shifting sands near Jodhpur, my guide Om Prakash Lol showed me the spot where Jambheshwar sat and meditated, with visions of a green paradise. That is where he came up with the 29 principles that would govern the lives of his many followers, who would be called Bishnois — derived from ‘bees’ and ‘noi’, which means 20 and nine.

The Bishnois’ reverence for trees is so intense that, in spite of being Hindus, they don’t cremate their dead but bury them. Blackbucks and chinkaras aside, a variety of birds like vultures, partridges, peacocks and the endangered Great Indian Bustard find a safe haven around Bishnoi villages.

Not only do the Bishnois protect the blackbuck from poachers, they also allow them to graze freely on their farmlands. Om told me, “It’s the belief of every Bishnoi that the first right to the harvest goes to the blackbucks, nilgais and chinkaras. Whatever is left by them belongs to us.”

In the village of Jajiwal, we saw a Bishnoi temple that doubles up as a rescue shelter.  The priest took care of injured antelopes. Some go back into the wild after they recover, while others roam about in the compound.

The Bishnoi women have deep maternal affection for the rescued calves. At Khejadli, we saw a Bishnoi woman breastfeeding a newly born, orphaned calf of a blackbuck.

Conservators, naturally
It was in this village that I met Sunil Bishnoi, a firebrand community leader. He explained how over time the Bishnois had become ‘active conservators’. Today, they pursue poachers with mere lathis and tonnes of courage to capture them hand them over to the forest authorities. In the last few decades, there have been cases of Bishnois laying down their lives in defence of these animals. They now have what they call the Tiger Force, a 1000-strong brigade committed to wildlife protection, spread across hundreds of villages. The Tiger Force came into the spotlight when they chased and caught an Indian superstar and his gang red-handed with the blackbucks they had killed.

A visit to the abode of Gangaram Bishnoi gave us a sense of the depth of feeling behind the courage. At the entrance to his village is a memorial where he lies buried next to the blackbuck he tried to save. His aged father and mother, his wife and two young children, are proud that Gangaram took four bullets on his chest from poachers for trying to save what others would call a mere animal. His mother pointed to a photograph of Gangaram’s wife receiving the President’s medal from Dr Abdul Kalam in recognition of the heroic act.

The paradox, however, is that only a handful of Bishnois occupy influential positions in the forest department, even though they are conservators from birth. BR Bhadoo, a rare forest officer from the community, pointed out the tragic reason behind this: widespread illiteracy, the bane of most Bishnois.