Beyond the Photo-Ops

If there’s a phrase that has been mercilessly paraded and turned into a mockery of itself in recent years, it’s “being proud of.” Personally, I find this expression not just laughable but rather a thin veil cloaking deeper issues that often reside beneath the surface. Yet, amidst this sea of empty rhetoric, there exists a rare gem—our tiger population, once teetering on the brink of extinction but now experiencing a revival that could bring a tear to your eye if only the tears weren’t mixed with dread over what’s to come.

Let’s take a moment to applaud the past dedicated efforts of the government and its trusty Forest Departments and other NGOs and private initiatives. Their hard work has yielded results that can be measured in vibrant stripes rather than mere percentages. Credit where credit is due: the rescue of the tiger owes much to two decades of consistent scientific efforts. A commendable feat achieved through not just wishful thinking but painful hard work, vigorous funding, and an adequate supply of competent individuals in the right places. If only this solid track record could be replicated across the board!

Alas, the trumpets of pride fade sharply beyond the boundaries of the tiger’s territory. The horror show that is unfolding before our very eyes threatens to obliterate years of progress with the sheer force of development—an irony that makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time. The government appears to be doing its utmost to show us that habitats exist for the taking under the looming shadow of progress. With dazzling PR stunts involving the relocation of tigers and cheetahs, they proclaim to “protect wildlife” while, ironically, rolling out the red carpet for bulldozers.

The real joke, however, lies in the silence of wildlife experts and the Department of Forest and Environment—so pristine it rivals the untouched beauty of an ancient forest. While the circus of political pageantry runs its course, our guardians of wildlife seem to have lost their voices. I wonder, have they been bribed by the siren song of shiny development projects? Or are they simply preparing themselves for a round of excuses that’ll be handed down to future generations? It’s almost theatrical, watching them watching silently as history and sanity take a backseat.

What’s particularly stunning is the blatant neglect of foundational needs—ecosystem protection, proper tranquilizers, and well-trained staff are all shunned in favor of, well, a grand show of misplaced priorities. Anyone could see how this has played out in hotspots of concern like Simlipal, Central India, Rajasthan or Kuno. It seems the motto of the day is, “Why fix what’s broken when we can just pretend it’s not there?” 

We need to wade through the murky waters of bureaucratic incompetence with a sense of urgency. It is painfully clear that our focus should be on enhancing habitat quality, sustainability, and, for heaven’s sake, modernizing the century-old relic called the Forest Department! Rather than clanging gongs of achievement from efforts of yore, we ought to be striving for a future where the past is built upon—not destroyed for cheap applause.

The most ironic twist in this story is the audacious attempt to curtail wildlife tourism under the guise of protecting wildlife. Those who have had the privilege of treading through our national parks know better: well-managed tourism can be a friend to wildlife. It fuels awareness, generates income, and fortifies defenses against poaching. It creates jobs for locals, who often serve as the first line of protection for wildlife. 

So, as we sip on our overpriced coffee and scroll through Instagram posts of fluffy tiger cubs, let’s remember that while we indulge in heartwarming nostalgia, the fundamental truths of wildlife conservation demand our attention desperately. Our tigers are not merely symbols to be commodified—they are the very essence of our natural heritage, hanging by a thread in a country caught up in the whimsical narratives of pride. Let’s hope we can remain more than mere spectators in this unfolding drama of development versus nature before the last curtain falls and the wild whispers of our past grow ever fainter.