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News18
2 days ago
- Politics
- News18
Remembering Valmik Thapar: Friend, Fighter, Force Of Nature
Last Updated: The tiger has lost its most passionate guardian. But the trail Valmik blazed still runs deep. And we must follow 'I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free." In the quiet sanctuary of Wendell Berry's lines from 'The Peace of Wild Things", I often find solace. Today, those words return with a new weight, because the man who taught so many of us to seek that peace in the wild is no more. Valmik Thapar, India's most passionate advocate for the tiger and the soul of Ranthambore itself, has passed away. The news hit hard. For me, it's not just the loss of a conservation icon—it's the loss of a friend of Ranthambore, a place I hold closest to my heart. A fierce voice gone quiet. A presence impossible to replace. Valmik wasn't just India's tiger man. He was Ranthambore. Not just in a symbolic way—he lived, breathed, and fought for it every single day. Through the awe he inspired in forest guards and guides, in villagers and visitors. Through the stories that clung to the park like mist—of Machli, Noor, Genghis—and of the man who gave us a reason to care. Valmik started young, in the 1970s. Back then, Ranthambore was a fragile wilderness on the brink. What Valmik saw wasn't just a threat—it was a possibility. He immersed himself in the jungle, studying tigers not just as a researcher but as someone who understood their soul. He watched, he listened, and he wrote it all down—articles, books, and documentaries that brought India's tigers into living rooms and policy rooms alike. Over the span of four decades, he authored a score of books on wildlife and conservation, including Tiger: The Ultimate Guide and Tiger Fire—the latter an anthology of India's long and layered relationship with the big cat. He presented and co-produced several acclaimed documentaries for the BBC and National Geographic, such as Land of the Tiger, which aired internationally and educated millions on India's wildlife. He was appointed to India's National Wildlife Board and served on countless conservation committees. In 1987, he founded the Ranthambhore Foundation, an NGO that pioneered community-led conservation and integrated livelihood support with environmental protection—a model that has since been emulated across protected areas in India. Thapar wasn't just documenting wildlife—he was shaping the national conversation around it. His work bridged the gap between field science, policy, and public imagination in a way few had before him. And Valmik didn't stop there. He challenged the system. Took on poachers, confronted politicians, and questioned bureaucrats. He wasn't afraid to make enemies if it meant protecting the wild. His roar often echoed louder in Delhi's corridors than in the jungle itself. Valmik saw conservation not as a job or a science but as a moral calling. A duty. 'I sighted my first tiger at the age of nine in Corbett Park. At 23, it became my obsession, as watching it in the magical setting of Ranthambore mesmerised me like nothing else… Since then, I have served the tiger and will do so till I die," Valmik once told my friend Ina Puri during a rare interview. That devotion shaped everything he did. When I began working on Ranthambore Diary: 9 Days, 9 Cubs, it was Valmik's shadow that loomed large. His way of seeing—of telling stories that made the wild feel personal—shaped my own journey. The very fact that I could witness and write about nine cubs in nine days is a tribute to what he helped build: a park where tigers still thrive because someone had the vision to fight for them. In many ways, Ranthambore Diary is rooted in Valmik's legacy. Every photograph I used, every moment I paused to observe rather than chase spectacle, carried echoes of his voice—that insistence on respect, patience, and deep listening. His writings taught me to see not just the beauty of a tiger but also its context: the rustle of the grass, the alarm call of the langur, the tension in the air before a cub emerges from the thicket. Valmik had shown us that documenting wildlife is about intimacy, ethics, and stewardship. For his part, Valmik never stopped being astonished. In his book, Living with Tigers, he writes, 'I had never seen a tiger chasing a deer in the water. Genghis didn't falter and charged in as sheets of water splashed skywards from the flight of the sambar and the tiger's pursuit of the deer. He missed, but what a spectacle he had created… What I had seen was so intense that it was like being witness to a theatrical extravaganza." That sense of wonder never left Valmik. Nor did his conviction that to conserve tigers was to conserve something deeper—a shared inheritance. Ranthambore, to me, has never been just a park. It is a living narrative stitched together by decades of watchfulness, with Valmik as its most committed chronicler. Without his tireless advocacy, his fight against poachers and policy lapses, and his insistence on science and storytelling going hand in hand, the park would never have become what it is today. But Valmik wasn't just about Ranthambore. He advised prime ministers, served on key wildlife boards, and helped shape Project Tiger into what it became, both through his recommendations and his critiques. He wanted better protection but also smarter tourism. He called out the glorified safari culture and pushed for regulation, always keeping the tiger at the centre. Valmik didn't romanticise the jungle. He talked of vanishing forests, of bureaucratic apathy, of conservation losing its soul to selfies and soundbites. And yet, he kept fighting. Kept believing. I remember conversations where his eyes would light up while describing a tigress teaching her cubs to hunt. And others where his voice would drop, heavy with grief, recounting lost forests or failed policies. He was never detached. That was his greatest strength— and, sometimes, his burden. Valmik's passing leaves behind more than silence. It leaves a legacy—of truth-telling, of fierce love, of action. The best way to honour him isn't through grand words. It's by listening to the jungle, and acting when it calls. I had no shortage of stories and anecdotes about him, thanks to another Tiger Man—Dharmendra Khandal — who kept his spirit alive in every tale he told. The tiger has lost its most passionate guardian. But the trail Valmik blazed still runs deep. And we must follow. My last email exchange with him was in September. I had invited him to a small gathering in Ranthambhore. He graciously replied, saying he would be out of India, visiting his son, who was studying in London. Even in that brief exchange, his warmth came through. That will stay with me—as will his legacy. A columnist and author, Sundeep Bhutoria is passionate about the environment, education, and wildlife conservation. Views expressed in the above piece are personal and solely those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect News18's views. tags : conservation tiger Valmik Thapar Wildlife Location : New Delhi, India, India First Published: June 03, 2025, 22:55 IST News opinion Remembering Valmik Thapar: Friend, Fighter, Force Of Nature
The Guardian
4 days ago
- Lifestyle
- The Guardian
Country diary: There's peace to be found in flying kites
At first glance, while getting my binoculars to focus, it could have been a Liverpool v Newcastle football match. The black-and-white wing discs of the two lapwings twisted and fanned round the pivoting tale of the red kite. Corvids are often seen mobbing a kite, but lapwings? Recently, when I have begun to worry about the cares of others and grown weary of my own voice, I have sought out a pair of red kites nearby. My intention is to follow the example of Wendell Berry, the poet and farmer, in his poem The Peace of Wild Things. In it he speaks of waking at night fearful, and seeking solace by lying down 'where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds'. 'For a time,' he continues, 'I rest in the grace of the world and am free.' Even when mobbed, the graceful flight of a red kite brings me a sense of peace. This pair started to nest in March, though I wasn't sure where. In April only the male was showing; I could see where he disappeared into the edge of the wood through leafless trees, but still I could not locate the nest. So I went to see Roy the woodsman. I knew Roy would know, and sure enough he took me up a track – and there she was, sitting on a nest made in a fork of an ash tree. Now, in May, with the leaves fully unfurled, she and her eggs are protected from the intrusion of people with binoculars. Watching these birds is full of nostalgia for me. In the late 80s, as a countryside ranger in the Cambrian mountains, I helped to look after the last remaining indigenous kite nests. It was a serious operation – the previous year, to deter egg thieves, Gurkhas had sat camouflaged under the nest for the 31 days of incubation. Though many of our kites today were part of the reintroduction programme from Scandinavia, I like to think the pair I have been watching are distantly related to those last few that survived in the Cambrians. Under the Changing Skies: The Best of the Guardian's Country Diary, 2018-2024 is published by Guardian Faber; order at and get a 15% discount
New Indian Express
22-04-2025
- General
- New Indian Express
Earth Day 2025: History, Theme, Significance, Wishes and Quotes
🌍 History of Earth Day The first Earth Day was observed on April 22, 1970 , following a growing public awareness about pollution and environmental degradation in the United States. It was initiated by Senator Gaylord Nelson , who aimed to channel the energy of student anti-war protests into environmental awareness. The event saw 20 million Americans take to the streets to demand environmental reform — making it the largest civic event of its time. Over the decades, Earth Day has evolved into a global movement , observed in more than 190 countries and supported by EarthDay. org , which continues to drive change through education, activism, and innovation. 🌱 Earth Day 2025 Theme Earth Day 2025 Theme Revealed: Our Power, Our Planet – A Global Call for Climate Action 🌏 Significance of Earth Day Earth Day isn't just symbolic — it's a catalyst for change. Its significance lies in: Raising environmental consciousness among all age groups Encouraging policy reforms that promote sustainability Inspiring climate action , reforestation, clean energy adoption, and waste reduction Reminding us that the health of the planet is directly linked to our own health Earth Day is a global check-in — a moment to reflect, act, and renew our promise to future generations. 💌 Earth Day 2025 Wishes 🌿 Happy Earth Day 2025! Let's treat our planet like our home — because it truly is. 🌎 May this 🍃 One Earth, one chance. Let's make it count. Happy Earth Day! 🌍 Breathe in the beauty, exhale gratitude. Celebrate Earth Day with heart and action. 🌱 Let Earth Day 2025 be the start of your green journey. Every small act matters. 💬 Inspirational Earth Day Quotes The Earth is what we all have in common. — Wendell Berry We do not inherit the Earth from our ancestors; we borrow it from our children. — Native American Proverb Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better. — Albert Einstein The greatest threat to our planet is the belief that someone else will save it. — Robert Swan It is our collective and individual responsibility to preserve and tend to the world in which we all live. — Dalai Lama 🌟 Quotes to Inspire Action on Earth Day Small changes, when multiplied by millions of people, can transform the world. Plant a tree today — grow a future tomorrow. Nature doesn't need us, but we need nature. Be the green you want to see in the world. Sustainability isn't a trend — it's a necessity. 🌐 How You Can Make a Difference This Earth Day Here are simple but meaningful ways to participate in Earth Day 2025: Avoid single-use plastics Plant a native tree or garden Support local eco-friendly businesses Educate others on climate and sustainability Reduce water and energy usage at home Volunteer for a community clean-up 🧠 Final Thoughts Earth Day 2025 is more than a celebration — it's a call to action. In a time of climate uncertainty and ecological stress, your voice, your choices, and your actions can make a lasting impact. Whether it's skipping plastic bags, riding a bike, or planting a tree — the Earth needs all of us, now more than ever. Let's celebrate this Earth Day with purpose, passion, and a promise to protect our only home — planet Earth. 🌏 By MK Singh.
Boston Globe
09-02-2025
- General
- Boston Globe
The enduring magic of reading out loud
My dog-eared copies are a record of my survival as a young widow. We read Wendell Berry's 'Whitefoot,' in which an intrepid mouse survives a flood by clinging to a floating piece of wood. 'She clung, hunched and shivering, to the little log as it tilted over the waves, seeing only the great light …' And there was 'Emily of New Moon,' about an orphan who scribbled letters to her dead father and wrote, 'Life was a wonderful, mysterious thing of persistent beauty.' I believed her. Get The Gavel A weekly SCOTUS explainer newsletter by columnist Kimberly Atkins Stohr. Enter Email Sign Up By the time my daughter reached high school, we had gradually abandoned the ritual without really noticing. Now that she's a junior, I spend more time reading excerpts to her from college prep books with names like 'Who Gets In and Why,' 'Soundbite: The Admissions Secret That Gets You Into College and Beyond,' and 'Where You Go Is Not Who You'll Be.' Like everyone else, we binge-watch our share of comfort shows. 'Another one?' she says when an episode finishes. Though there's not a lot of research on teens, many of the proven benefits of reading aloud to children may carry over. Young children aren't the only ones who need emotional regulation; teens are also going through a Advertisement Reading aloud together feels like an oddly subversive act, given the siren call of screens and scrolling. It forces us to slow down and pay attention. We humbly fumble our words sometimes. We hear beautiful sentences uttered aloud. We read timeless stories that make us feel less alone. Reading aloud shouldn't be relegated to bedtime with young children. When my friend broke her ankle, I showed up at her door with a bag of pastries and an offer to read from a book of short reflections by Madeleine L'Engle. 'Please read another,' she told me when I'd finished one. My parents tell me they have read Leo Tolstoy's 'A Calendar of Wisdom' to each other at the kitchen table over breakfast. At a recent funeral, a friend shared a Louise Bogan poem she had also read aloud at the bedside of her dying mother. Books offer us nuance, meaning, and things to 'weigh and consider,' in the words of Francis Bacon. Anne Lamott calls stories 'medicine, plaster casts for broken lives and hearts, slings for weakened spirits.' Perhaps reading them aloud to each other is the act of courage we all need right now. Reading with my daughter over the years has given us a common vernacular, a collective imagination, and a lexicon of hope. That night before the SAT, I almost went in search of our old favorite picture books; instead, I picked a favorite book of mine, Walker Percy's 'The Moviegoer,' and positioned myself on her bed, noting how her feet touch the footboard now. It had been a long time since I'd sat there like that. I read and she laughed at all the right places. Percy has a wry sense of humor. 'Should I stop?' I asked her. 'No,' she said. 'A little more.' Advertisement Julia Cho is a writer whose work has appeared in The New Yorker, The New York Times, and The Washington Post, among other publications.
