Metro Plus
Chennai
Hyderabad
Delicate balance under threat?
|
Nestled in serene surroundings, the 120-year-old Theosophical Society's bio-diversity seems to be gradually losing its beauty.
|
FEW ACTIVITIES are more enjoyable than an early morning walk through the woods of Theosophical Society. One is being accompanied by young Krishnan, the garden assistant. Given a boon, Krishnan would have chosen to be a gentle Adyar deer browsing in the underbrush. The resemblance is striking as he frisks about the sun-and-shadow patterns on the forest path. His sharp eyes never miss a change in the surroundings.
The sage of this suburban ashram, GM Arjun has directed the quest. "The trees are the backbone of Theosophical Society. Observe the trees and you'll discover everything." He has begun a drive to plant and propagate indigenous trees in the forest. "Foreigners who visited the Theosophical Society, over the years, planted many alien varieties. Indigenous plants are taken over by exotic ones and when they crossbreed, the new plants overrun both. An eco-system is built by plants that are native to the soil." He is also expanding the herb garden that demonstrates good health is no more than bending to pick up the right leaves and roots. The quiet forest is one of the finest examples of bio-diversity. The undergrowth, left dense by the absence of grazing animals, is home to spiders, all varieties of tropical insects, snakes, small lizards, mongoose and hare. These with tall trees, birds and the small herd of cattle constitute the close-knit food pyramid. "We give importance to every living thing here," whispers Krishnan. "Nothing is disturbed." In hushed tones he links the food chain. "Spiders are eaten by snakes and lizards which in turn are prey to cats and birds and so on. It is vitally important to preserve the smallest species."
Dr. Sanjeeva Raj, Professor of Ecology, puts it this way. "Floral diversity promotes faunal diversity. With a rich melange of trees bearing flowers with nectar, berries and fruits all round the year, with a thick undergrowth of shrubs, herbs and grasses providing seeds, nesting sites and nesting materials, with leaf-litter turning to mulch on the ground and retaining moisture, an equally rich faunal diversity is promoted on this estate as indicated by swarms of butterflies hovering and birds calling from the woods. They all add to the unique charm and serenity of this l20-year-old theosophical environment. Going round the campus is a rare and inspiring environmental education."
For Kannamma, wife of Dinamani Editor Sambandham, the morning stroll is a restorative. "It is culturally enhancing", she says.
The banyan tree is the `baby' of the forest. Its roots are everywhere like naughty children left to play. There is one growing tightly around a palmyra, one shooting out of an old mango tree. A stone Mahavir meditates under another. "Its seed is only quarter the size of a mustard," says Krishnan, "but for propagation, the seed of a ficus tree (banyan, fig, peepul) has to come through the stomach of a bird or a bat."
At the historical 400-year-old tree site, without the mother trunk, men have gathered to give a fallen root support. "Theosophists don't cut trees. If it grows across the road, the road will be closed." A colony of 500 fruit bats has found refuge in a tall banyan. Also known as flying foxes, these `hanging umbrellas' with their sharp teeth help disperse even large fruits. "They have lost their home somewhere," Krishnan observes.
We have reached the 80-year-old `fairy-tale' baobab tree. This seemai puli with its sour fruit looks like a giant. The Olcott garden has no immigrant trees. Red acacias and blooming cashew trees guard the area. "Coastal trees are short with low branches to withstand the wind. Coconut has no branches. Unpruned neem does not grow tall." But the tamarind? "It is not native to India." This is the timberland where a clap can be heard half a kilometre away. Where parrots stand up to feed their young. Where crabs scuttle out of holes to pounce on a dry leaf. Where jackals, monitor lizards, spiders and migratory birds live as neighbours. Where bronze-back tree snakes slither up Pungam, Poovarasu, Paneer, Kattu Thuvarai and yellow bamboo. Whose coconut groves host medicinal herbs like nannari, nayuruvi, kuppameni and gajuka. Where temples of seven religious persuasions dwell in harmony. This is one of the few moist deciduous forest patches still left. One edge that touches the estuary is a debris-ridden eyesore. Washed ashore are helmets, used bandages, syringes, thermocol, plastic bottles, tins, doormats, etc. Another that shares a wall with Oorur and Olcott kuppams is a casualty of insidious plots. The forest side of the wall has been turned into a garbage dump. Ugly plastic bags hang from the tall cacti. Ettikkai and palm saplings are routinely pilfered. A huge patch of grass has been set on fire to make way for a maidan being misused. The worst damage is caused by the stick-and-nylon-rope trap set to catch small animals. "Nothing deters them," Krishnan shakes his head. "Not appeals, not threats, not the barbed wire on the wall. We have lost all the wild hare. It is now the turn of the mongoose." Another alarming threat looms underground.
At the mahogany avenue, Sivaraman , the head gardener explains: "In recent years we have lost nearly 15 huge mahogany trees. Theosophical Society was the only place where this tree grew. Now IMCOPS and Auroville have trees from our saplings. We believe the trees lost their strength due to lack of fresh water. Some of our wells have turned salty. When trees are weakened they become easy marks for harmful insects. They die a slow death."
Adds Suresh the gardening chief, "Even two decades ago, Adyar had a lot more greenery. Indiscriminate construction and pumping in the area has depleted the ground water table. Do you know the water in the KFI School area has gone saline?"
"Every building here has RWH system. There are any number of wells and water bodies. When it rains our coconut grove fills with fish and frogs. But what we recharge is taken away by the growing population around us. It is like only poison is left with you to drink," says Krishnan. He suggests, "The surrounding slums should have RWH facility. Conserving water should become a way of life in Chennai. We must use available technology to turn sewage water potable. Pumping water from the ground must be stopped."
It is time to leave. A Salem magnate is here to buy a truckload of saplings. "Why don't we teach the children the eco-systems of Mylapore, Adyar and Gooduvancheri? It should be `Know your place first'. And grow from there."
GEETA PADMANABHAN
Printer friendly
page
Send this article to Friends by
E-Mail
Metro Plus
Chennai
Hyderabad
|
