Mostly, when we talk about anything related to the environment and conservation, there is a litany of clinical reports and studies that come up immediately in our minds. The world of IPCC reports and IUCN Red Lists is very daunting and it is this mechanical and often inaccessible narrative that makes us believe that all the threats and catastrophes are existent but very far from us and even if we want to know more and take action, how do we grasp something so beyond our reach? Wild and Wilful not only dismantles this distance but transforms it into a language of tenderness and learning.
This book really, really spoke to me. It educated, angered, inspired and shamed. Neha Sinha writes about fifteen iconic and endangered species but moves away from treating them as objects of our fascination and dispassionate scientific studies. Instead she writes about each of them in their most routine glory. She expands on the concept of how humans aren't the messiahs here but rather the usurpers and the least we can do while co-existing is to give these species the dignity they always had.
It is also a very nuanced and unique take on conservation. The issue of tiger conservation in Deori was located very rightfully within the spaces that women occupied in the village and the larger dichotomy of veneration and denial of autonomy. It moves from there to the calumny and stigma that people from the North-East face on account of their dietary and cultural practices through the story on the Amur Falcons. The effusion of varied landscapes and ecosystems doesn't stop here but extends into the surreal mountains of central Asia, home of our yearly guests, the Rosy Starlings.
While going into remote corners of the world to look for lives so bewitching, it is easy to fall into the habit of exoticisation, something very common in all our Attenborough documentaries (I love watching those too!!). This often gives us a false sense of calm that there are areas completely untouched, shorn of any trace of human civilisation. Areas that are pristine serve as an assurance that not all is lost. But Wild and Wilful doesn't sugarcoat when it declares- 'There is no wilderness anymore. There are only places with varying amounts of human impact.'
There is a subtle nudge for the reader in this book. Conservation like all things is driven by optics. We revel in the opulence of the Tiger or the sensibility of the Dolphin and decide that fine, these are creatures we have to conserve. But often this assigning of virtues and vices strips a vital group of animals from any protection. Even those within the much adored categories are constrained by it such as Avni, the tigress in whose memory there were candlelight marches and petitions. This was because Avni's case was amplified by the virtue of her being a protective mother. While her cause indeed needed championing, what this narrow high-decibel campaign did was that it took focus away from the core issues of working on tiger conservation, something that would have benefited many Avnis. It made me think a lot about how I perceive not just wildlife but any life around me.
Neha Sinha is not just a supremely talented conservation biologist but also a gifted writer, poet, philosopher (apart from making you really want to be friends with her). She writes beautifully and widely across mountains and steppes and deserts. However, the part which warmed me the most was the chapter on Tiger Butterflies in Delhi. This city with its Semal and Amaltas will welcome you with one hand and with the smog in the other, it will shoo you away. But in the midst of all this chaos, life does exist.
'And the enchanted butterflies had shown me their enchanted places, and these places were always there, right infront of me. They were in the embrace and armpits of the great capital of India, the world's most polluted place, a city as beautiful as butterfly wing, and as ugly as the concrete where a butterfly could find no nourishment.
If Delhi broke my heart on a particular day, I wished for a butterfly to fly out from that crack.'