The controversial elephant ride at Amer Fort, Jaipur

Every now and then, I keep hearing cries from activists to stop the elephant rides in Amer Fort.

These are ten minute rides, from the bottom of the hill to the fort, with a maximum of two riders to an elephant. The rides start around 8:00 a.m. and end by about 11:00 a.m.


Those who call for banning the rides say that it is cruel to the elephants, that they toil in the sun, and that the stone terrain is hard on their feet.

It is a complex issue, so to all those asking for the rides to be stopped, I say, please don't oversimplify it.

There are 4-5 traditional communities in India that work with animals - the madaris with their monkeys, the kalandars with bears, the elephant handlers, the saperas with their snakes, and there are also communities in Rajasthan who specialise in tiger hunting, and so on and so forth. Apart from these, there are many, many others in rural and small-town India who depend on animals for a living. When you advocate a course of action that impacts both people and animals, it is worthwhile to pause and think about not just the moral issues but also the practical ones.

For me, the first and larger dilemma comes when I ask myself - is domestication of animals ethically right? Do humans have the right to capture, tame and use wild animals? Do humans really have the right to tame and use other animals like camels, horses, donkeys, and bullocks? Do humans have the right to even confine dogs, whose natural habitat is the wild, and who would much prefer to run free in their own packs? Taking that a step further, is it correct to restrict the freedom of sheep, pigs, goats etc for slaughter? Is it correct to subject mice, monkeys and rabbits to pain in laboratories?

Bullock cart in Agra - are they toiling any less in the sun?

Overladen mule-cart in Old Delhi in peak April summer

There are many inspiring schools of Indian thought which say that cruelty to living creatures is not acceptable. We all learn even as schoolchildren about the Boddhisatva who takes monkey form, or elephant form, or bird and other forms, to teach humans compassion for all living creatures. Many religions forbid the killing of animals, and religions like Jainism forbid the use of animal products like leather.

My personal view is that the restriction of freedom of any animals by humans is an unfortunate historical necessity and an unavoidable fact, but is morally incorrect. That applies not just to elephants, but to all animals who are victims of what I call "human conquest". Taking the argument to its logical extension, to me the raising of sheep for slaughter is no different from the raising of elephants for commercial use. I do not like either of these.

However, the moral dimension of the issue is different from the practical dimension.

Practically speaking, the planet probably can't support all of us if no one ate meat. Practically speaking, the camel is the best and perhaps only affordable solution for humans in the desert areas of Rajasthan. Elephants were probably the most effective way to get timber from forests. Dogs were probably the most effective warning mechanism and hunting help for humans. And so on and so forth.

These practicalities change with time and technology. Therefore from a purely practical point of view, leaving the morals/ethics aside, the use of animals has to be constantly re-evaluated to see if it makes sense, and if it is unavoidable as a means to secure human welfare.

When you evaluate the situation in such terms, it becomes obvious that some uses of animals have now outlived their necessity and that it is time to stop it. Some other uses have still enormous practical value, and stopping it would lead to loss of human welfare (for example, oxen for ploughs, or camels for the desert, even with the advent of tractors and jeeps, there is really no cost-effective subsitute).

Tribal Rabari woman with her camels. These are their only wealth.

It is not always easy to make these decisions, and there are definitely shades of grey in these.

But it is quite clear to me that we have only two ways forward:

1. Where the use of animals is unavoidable, regulate and police actively to ensure minimum pain and maximum compassion

2. Where the use of animals is avoidable, phase out with a sensitive and practical understanding of the issues.

The elephants at Amer are merely joyrides, and nowhere in the unavoidable category. So it is quite clear to me that they must be stopped. However, I am not willing to see the elephants at Amber starve to death simply because there is no employment for them forcing their owners to abandon them.

The solution is obvious and two-pronged, but I will state it anyway. We need the following:
a) The creation of a government or private sponsored facility to "retire" the elephants and look after them until they die
b) A program to re-skill and provide gainful employment the mahouts so that their families don't starve

I have just visited the Bear Rescue Centre in Agra where over 275 'dancing bears' have been brought from various places in India. The Bear rescue centre is a permanent home for these bears because they cannot be released into the wild. The kalandar community from whom they have been purchased have been compensated for the bears (Rs 50,000 for a bear) and they have been taught other skills. Some of them work at the centre. Craft products and jewellery made by kalandar women is sold at the centre.

The Bear Rescue Centre at Agra provides a successful, practical model to follow

Simply saying "Stop the rides at Amber" is not the solution. Without the necessary support system in place to provide alternative rescue for the elephants, stopping the rides would mean taking away the elephants' only earning.

So if you're visiting Jaipur, and wondering whether to do the ride, I say, until there is a viable alternative for the elephants, do it. If you see mistreatment, report it (there is an Elephant Welfare Office at the fort). If you want to contribute towards their welfare, then donate to wild life rescue organisations who are working in the field. I would recommend these guys: Wildlife SOS (the same guys running the Bear Rescue Centre in Agra). I visited them and was very impressed not just by their understanding of the issues involved, but their very practical approach, collaborating with difficult government departments etc. They have a captive Elephant Welfare Project and are trying to start a sanctuary in Haryana for elephants similar to their Bear facility in Agra. I wish them luck.

- Deepa

I walk into a wheat field

Have you seen wheat being harvested anywhere in India?

I hadn't seen wheat farming up close, until I walked into a golden-yellow wheat field in Rajasthan last week.

I was on a trip to Agra and Bharatpur, with my friend Stephane. Everywhere along the highway we saw big overloaded tractors, looking like very pregnant cows, trundling along.

"What are they carrying", I asked our driver. "Is it wheat?" I knew that in North India, March / April is the month when the wheat crop that is sown in November is harvested. Mustard too is harvested at this time.

The driver smiled at my city-bred ignorance, but said kindly "Na, na, madam, it is the left over dry grass after the wheat is harvested. It is used for fodder."

Ah, I nodded, realising my stupidity. Of course. The wheat is harvested in the field, threshed, and only the grains are transported to the market. These huge overstuffed straw bags were too flimsy to possibly contain the precious grain.

We drove further along, and in many fields, I saw women and men harvesting the crop by hand.

"I'd love to go into these fields", I said to Stephane. "Just to see what it's like, you know?"

As luck would have it, we met a guide in Bharatpur Bird Sanctuary, who was also a farmer. He was perhaps 50 years old, a grizzled and seasoned birder. We chatted about birds and Bharatpur's seasons; but it was too hot to go bird-watching.

So I asked the guide: "Can you take me to see the harvest?" He said yes, and in 20 minutes, Stephane and I found ourselves rather unexpectedly walking through a golden wheat field!

On both sides of the small dirt embankment, the wheat crop was ready for harvesting. The first thing we did was to pluck a single stalk, rub it to remove the chaff, and taste the wheat. You know the most surprising thing? The grains were soft, not hard. I was expecting it to be exactly like store-bought grain, hard to bite. But no, it was chewy and lovely to nibble. I remembered the famous Aesop's fable about the Town Mouse and the Country Mouse. I felt like I had actually transformed into that Country Mouse! Wholesome wheat grains everywhere but no fancy pantry with sugar and treacle and ham and sausages in sight!


We walked further along and came to where the women were at work. It is not an easy job. Work starts early in the morning, and continues through the day, although temperatures at noon can be something like 30 - 35 C.

We were a welcome diversion; but not until our guide walked away did the women begin to chat with me. I didn't understand their silence at first, until our guide explained it to me - he was the senior member of their family, and in his presence, the women would maintain a modest silence, and would not unveil themselves.

But when he left, the women transformed into a chatty, laughing trio. They were as curious about me, as I was about them. Where do you live? What work do you do? Where are you going? They peppered me with as many questions as I did them.

I was curious about the sickles, so one of the women lent her sickle to me. I hunkered down to examine it. It was surprisingly light, and unlike the smooth curve that I was envisaging, it had a pointy inside edge. I realised the women were actually using wrist /muscle power to hook the knife around the wheat and pull it at a particular angle, slicing through the wheat stalks with a smooth technique.

"Man, how do they sit like this the whole day long", asked Stephane, who - in true tourist fashion - was quite amazed by how comfortable the women were in the squatting position. "Isn't it murder on the knees?"

I very wisely decided to find a more comfortable cross-legged position on the edge of the field. (Behind us you can see the other side of the field, which the women had already harvested)

I spent a happy 15 minutes sitting cross-legged, chatting and exchanging stories. Although initially I was a "city-mem", a stranger to the women, somewhere along the conversation, things changed and we became friends on a more equal sort of footing. Must you go? Can't you stay longer?, I was asked. I was invited home for dinner, and to stay the night if I wished. (I am always humbled by the hospitality and kindness I experience in rural India - no matter how poor people are, the genuine warmth that they extend to complete strangers is amazing).


I was also offered some advice on the importance of having male children. In fact, the women were quite distressed to hear I had no sons.

"Kya? Aapka beta nahi hai?", they asked me. What? You have no son? (what a tragedy!)

I said no, I had only one daughter, but she was pure gold ("Lakhon mein ek hai meri beti").

They shook their heads. That apparently didn't count.

"Ek beta hona chahiye", I was told, somewhat sadly. You must have a son.

I tried again. "Meri beti badi hokar khoob padegi, kamayegi, hamara naam roshan karegi" My daughter will study and work and do well and make me proud.

Uh-uh. No dice. I had to have a son, for my own good. "Phir bhi, ek beta to hona chahiye, behen. Ek beta jaroor kar lo aap"

It was advice lovingly offered, to someone who they thought would benefit by listening to it. What could I say in the face of such utter conviction? I gave up, and smiled and told them, ok, next time I'll come here with a baby in my arms! We all laughed, and I waved goodbye...

...But as I was walking out with our guide, I wondered when these attitudes would change, and when these women would stop viewing themselves as second class citizens. Will the new Women's Reservation Bill be able to change anything in this village? I don't know. Not in this lifetime, perhaps.

Still, I was glad I spent some part of the afternoon here with these women. Living in my elitist "emancipated" world, I had forgotten the ground realities. Seeing the lives and beliefs of these women brought me sharply back in touch with the real India. I remembered Mahatma Gandhi's famous trip through the country, to meet the people of rural India. How much he must have learnt and observed as he spoke to his fellow countrymen!! Not surprisingly, it transformed his life and influenced his economic and political policy.

As usual, the brush with rural India had left me both elated as well as depressed. This sort of contradiction defines my love-hate relationship with my country. I marvel at its beauty, delight in its simplicity, but know there are many changes needed, and that there is a grim, long road ahead.

Marriage? We want Indians only :)

Am I the only one who finds matrimonial adverts fascinating?

Here are four ads from the Hindustan Times.

The first two are from Indian boys living abroad who want to marry girls from India. This of course, is a common phenomenon - taking a 'family-oriented' and 'cultured' bride from India is the norm (as opposed to the wild American memsahibs, I suppose, he he).

But the last two ads are from Indian girls abroad, who are looking for boys from India. I must confess, I was a little surprised.

Take a look.

Hmm, hmm. The boy wants someone sophisticated, attractive, well-educated, career-minded, but *also* family-oriented. Looks like his parents wrote the ad.

The girl's family must be educated and accomplished? OK, whatever :)

Hmm, what do we have here?

A girl studying medicine in the USA. Would like to "explore the possibilities of meeting prospective persons" on her India visit. I like the sound of that :) I think she wrote this herself, maybe. "Boy must be well educated". Nothing about the boy's family, he he.

Clean shaven Sikh boy wanted, one that's willing to settle in Australia. Hmm.

These ads, by the way, are from a special column in the matrimonials reserved for NRIs (overseas Indians). The column occupies significant newsprint space. Obviously it's not just a few odd-balls who still yearn for India. It's interesting to watch how the Indian diaspora grows, but never really separates from the motherland. I wonder what "cultural values", if any, these new brides and grooms are exporting from India.

Alone, white and female in India

On a travel forum recently, a young Polish woman asked: "I am planning to go to India and would be grateful if you could tell me whether it is safe for me to go there alone. If someone has any experience in travelling on his/her own, please post your comments"

Lots of people offered her advice; most of which centred around dressing modestly (preferably in a salwar kameez!), not getting too familiar with strangers, avoiding isolated areas and dark alleys, and so on. Among the many people who offered advice, there was one gentleman who suggested she carry pepper-spray. This led to a protest by some others - What?? Pepper spray!!?? Why are you scaring tourists away from India?? - and so on.

Co-incidentally, I had just been reading a city magazine, a 'Women's Special', with a whole page devoted to staying safe in cities - and among the five things they listed was pepper spray!

So what's the right advice for this lady? Should she stick to big cities? Are they safer, or are they more dangerous than smaller towns? Are some states safer than others? As I heard various points of view, I felt obliged to conclude that there is no single truth when it comes to female safety in India.

But that doesn't mean there are no conclusions to be drawn! I travel alone, frequently, to different parts of the country, and from my own interactions with men, I find that some parts of the country are disconcertingly hostile to women and disparaging of their bodies, whereas other places are a delight.

I was in Orissa recently, and I have to say I did not encounter one single lecherous man; it was a fantastic experience. I have spent two years in Calcutta, again, without so much as a single nasty incident in spite of late nights and odd hours.

I would rank Uttar Pradesh, Haryana, Rajasthan and Delhi among my list of difficult places for solo women travellers. (I have not been to Bihar, but I confess I have no great expectations from the state that produced Laloo Prasad Yadav). Other than Orissa and Bengal, I would rank Kerala among my nicest travel experiences, followed by Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka, Maharashtra and Goa (in no particular order). I have no experience of the north-eastern states.

Of course, this is all based on personal and anecdotal stuff, and is therefore open to bias, but I suspect many Indian women would agree with me. If you don't agree, that's fine too. There is no necessity for consensus here. Irrespective of which state is better and which is worse, what I'm trying to say is that there seem to be some regional trends in the behaviour of men towards women.

I am puzzled by these differences. Surely we are all not that different from each other? Maybe it’s just that places which are more hidebound and stuck in the dark ages are more difficult for women? With a social structure that does not value women, it is that much more difficult to get the basic respect you deserve. But Tamil Nadu with its high female foeticide doesn't value women either...so it's hard to explain why I feel safer in Chennai than in Delhi. Again, this is also a sweeping generalisation. Some parts of Delhi (and I am writing this sitting in Delhi) are extremely safe and very nice to be, and some very nice guys I know are from Delhi. But I don't feel the same "body freedom" in the crowded lanes of Chandni Chowk as I do in the equally crowded Pondy Bazaar or Bhuleshwar or Gariahaat markets. Why? I wish I knew.

Sigh - so - going back to the young Polish woman - while there is no single truth about the Indian men she will encounter, the fact remains that she is likely to go through some not-so-pleasant experiences if she is travelling solo. Let's face it, this is a difficult country for single white women to travel. The average Indian man assumes that white women are alley cats and are potentially available - why else would they flaunt their bodies in public places, right? To add to this is the depressingly common lesson which most young men receive at the hands of their older friends - that's it's perfectly alright to ogle and whistle and grope and treat women badly. Indeed, it is very *masculine* to do so, as Hindi movies so brilliantly illustrate. It's not just white women who get the lecherous idiocy - the same disgusting treatment is accorded to very modestly dressed local women as well. It's a grim story, and one that always makes me want to decimate the entire male race :)

To the lady who asked the original question, I say, pack that pepper spray, girl! You may not need it, but you'll feel better with it in your purse.

Two young tigers poisoned - why blame the Gujars?

It's a fairly standard story - tigers come into conflict with humans, prey on valuable livestock, and in response, the tigers are poisoned.

The latest to die are two young male tigers who went into the Keladevi Sanctuary, perhaps looking for new territory.
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The Keladevi Sanctuary is the buffer zone for the Ranthambhore tiger sanctuary. The river Banas divides the forest in this area into two. To the southwest of the river is Ranthambhore National Park and to the northeast is Keladevi.
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There are just 5 Gujar families in the area where the two tigers were killed. Gujars are primarily herdsmen; they live in small settlements in the forest. Some of them have been arrested for this killing.
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But why blame them? What would you do if two scary predators came within a whisker of your livestock and family? Can you see yourself doing anything different?
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Apparently, these two tigers had been visiting that area for the past one and a half months, and preying on livestock. The forest department did nothing. No compensation was given, and no discussions were initiated with the Gujar families to keep them or their livestock safe. No wonder they tied a couple of goats as poisoned bait!
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Clearly the real problem is with the system, with forest department authorities who don't know their elbows from their backsides! Poor funding, poorly trained staff, poor tracking, and appallingly poor management of the forest, its people and its animals!!

Argh. @%#$@&#@*& !!!

Photo by Giriraj Sharma, eTV. The full story is here, if you want to read it

Who needs Bollywood when you've got Obama?

Among the more interesting sights you will see in Agra these days is a hoarding for men's underwear:

Spotted in Agra: O-bamaa underwear.

With sales of $200 million, Rupa & Co is the single largest branded underwear company India. They have different brands for different market segments, endorsed by Bollywood stars.

Their biggest selling premium brand is called Frontline, and it is endorsed by a chubby 40-something Sanjay Dutt.

Before Sanjay Dutt took on the Frontline contract, they had an even chubbier Govindaa wearing a vest and RSS-type khaki shorts, and smirking "Yeh aaram ka maamla hai" (It's all about comfort, baby!)

In 2007, they signed up another super-star - Hrithik Roshan - to endorse Macroman, their upscale line targetted at younger age groups. They've also signed up Saif Ali Khan, Aishwarya Rai, and Lisa Ray, for some of their other brands.

Clearly, Rupa & Co has a thing about celebrity endorsements.

But what do you do when you have a line of underwear that cannot afford celebrity endorsements? The Jon line is Rupa's downmarket brand, meant for lower income groups. The briefs are 100% cotton, functional and plain, with the focus on toughness and durability (won't stretch after multiple washes!)

I wonder which creative guy decided these were just the right attributes to name this line after the President of the United States :)

But the deed is done, and there are now O-bamaa hoardings everywhere. I wonder if sales are booming.

- Deepa

P.S. The hoarding photo was clicked by sharp-eyed Sara Williams, from Harvard Medical School. Way to go, Sara!

February smiles on us

January was cold and foggy, with people huddled over coal fires, swathed in thick blankets. But now that February is here, the days are warmer, and the smiles brighter.

People still find comfort in the coal embers, but everyone knows the winter is going away soon, and spring is on its way.

Couple enjoying a light moment - parking lot, Hauz Khas Village

Basant, the season of blossoms, of bright flowers, of courtship and love, is just around the corner. Delhi waits for the coming of Holi.

Er...camels, anyone?

This morning on television, I saw the Border Security Force camel contingent practising for the Republic Day Parade on January 26.

Ha, ha, I said to myself, look, camels. How quaint.


The TV camera went behind the scenes, and showed little snippets of the camels stirring at dawn, and interviewed their proud moustachioed handlers. Delhi is cold and foggy right now (lots of flights and trains cancelled today); but the BSF camel contingent was up early, preparing the camels for the day's rehearsals. There are three months of daily rehearsals, as a lead up to Republic Day. And the men interviewed on TV were proud of who they were and what they were doing.

The camel parade is a colourful spectacle. They do look good, you know? The camels are all brightly tasselled; they have this brass band, and the camels march smartly to the drummers. They're even in the Guinness Book of World Records, for being the world's only camel band.


But to me, this sort of pageantry has never been particularly interesting - in fact, I find the Republic Day Parade really boring. I can understand the need for it. Every country needs to say, look, we're big and strong and guess what, my tanks (or camels!!) are better than yours. It's one of these feel-good things, I suppose, not just to reassure your own population, but also tell the rest of the world not to mess with you.

But I was more interested in finding out what the camels did when they were not parading.

As it turns out, nothing. These 100 are purely in showbiz :) They're a special set of camels, chosen for their haughty demeanour, much like their men are chosen for their moustaches. I kid you not. "No moustache? Sorry bro, you just don't cut the mustard." (The mustard reference is my idea of a pun. These men have to wax their moustaches every day with mustard oil, he he).

So anyway, while these 100 vain camels are kicking their legs smartly to music, there are another 700 not-so-vain camels behind the scenes that patrol our sandy desert borders with Pakistan. And it's a loooooonnnng border, stretching across multiple states.


Before 1965, the Indian border with Pakistan was patrolled by the state army. After 1965, when fighting broke out in the Rann of Kutch, a special unit was created - the Border Security Force, or BSF.

Have you seen the Rann of Kutch? Imagine an endless vista of flat land, dry as dust and baking hot. For three months in the monsoons, the Rann of Kutch is a salt marsh, when the rains bring moisture and the ground is inundated. The rest of the time, it is dry and caked; but there's moisture underneath, so it makes for difficult terrain (in fact, they're having trouble building fencing along the border there, because the ground gives way, and it is difficult to find purchase).

My friend Amit (who does really cool travel shows) clicked these photos in the Rann of Kutch while on a shoot. This is the Little Rann, not really the border, but you can see what the ground is like.



But obviously, this is good camel country! A camel costs 90 rupees a day; and doesn't need expensive diesel, or spare parts. Or repair shops or gas stations, all of which are impossible in this area. And - it has a good sense of direction :)

So everyday, the camelmen patrol the borders, up and down, looking for any signs of Pakistani presence. And, on the other side, there's a similar camel contingent in Pakistan, looking for signs of Indians (we are, after all, two sides of the same coin).

Here's a photo from Outlook India's special feature on the camel contingents of the Border Security Force. This photo is from Jaisalmer in Rajasthan, also desert country, but with a terrain quite different from the Rann of Kutch.

These then, are the working camels of the Border Security Force, moody, muzzled and tough. They're cranky creatures, apt to bite, and the camelmen use gur to coax them into better moods. I rather like them!

So I propose a toast - a toast to the working camels of BSF!! When we watch the prancing colour of the camels on Republic Day parade, I guess we should really remember who the real heroes are.

- Deepa

P.S. In 2007, the UNESCO asked the Border Security Force for 100 trained camels, for peacekeeping in Sudan. I don't think that proposal went anywhere, but obviously it means trained camels make horse sense (yeah, yeah, another bad pun, he he he).