Magnificent Makhna: Meet the Author and Illustrator

A majestic elephant protects the forests from timber traders, tree-cutters and poachers. The animal becomes such a legend, that his photograph is a regular display piece on the walls of their homes. But one day, the Forest Department receives strict orders to hunt the elephant down… 

After the gripping Black Panther, Aravind Krish Bala returns to the Western Ghats with a riveting story inspired by true events highlighting the complex cause of conservation, drawing the reader’s attention to realities that need to be faced without taking sides. Illustrator Sandip K. Luis has created brilliant pictures that capture the drama in the story and heighten the suspense. 

The Author

Aravind used to be a teacher, and is now a journalist writing on environment, wildlife and conservation. We asked him to tell us the story behind Magnificent Makhna and how he fell in love with forests and wildlife. 

When and how did your love for the environment, forests and wildlife begin?

When I was working as Chief Reporter, The New Indian Express, in Coimbatore, between 2002 and 2006, I learnt conservation journalism. Every month, I used to trek or travel to some part of the Western Ghats. These trips gave me stories for the paper and made me realise the need for habitat protection, clean water bodies, tribal culture and the necessity for reforestation.

People do not realise that their rivers are there only because of forests. We need to stop felling forests and actually recreate forests. When you trek, you are fascinated by the landscapes and wildlife. They spur you on.

Kalidoss and Ganesh of OSAI, an NGO, Dr Tolstoy, a wildlife photographer, and I, were part of some memorable treks.

 Have you met Moorthy the makhna? What is he like?

Castro Selvaraj, an activist based in Gudalur, told me about Moorthy, the makhna. The first few pages of the book are based on his narration. Then I learnt more from Dr Kalaivanan, a veterinarian at the camp, when he told me how a vet student, a girl from the US, got very close to the elephant. The few times I was at the camp, I was not lucky. I haven't met Moorthy yet.

Does Thangam regret having captured the makhna?

The Thangam character is based on Thangaraj Paneerselvam, a forest ranger and the most-preferred sharp shooter of the State Forest Department. He did not capture the makhna. I don't know how they captured it. Based on his stories of tranquillizing and rescuing panthers and elephants, I have woven the two stories together. It is part-real, part-fiction.

What do you think would have happened if Moorthy was not captured?

I guess he would still be roaming the wild in Mudumalai, Wayanad and Bandipur forests, terrorizing the timber mafia.

You have been to the forests many times. What do you love and hate the most about forests?

Forests make you feel that you are levitating. You forget and lose yourself. You are so light, you won't carry your ego, pride and beauty. You are a speck. But you come back pure and with wisdom - not worldly, but spiritual. It is an inward journey as well, filled with beautiful moments. My one wish is that there should be no more buildings or construction in any of the mountains. We need a law that ensures that. As for the forests, no more roads, rails, bridges and strictly no vehicles. We have encroached on more than what is necessary. If you want to know the wild, walk.

 Is there any one animal (that you have seen) that has impressed you the most? Why?

Every animal is special. There are birds, insects, flowers, fish. Each one is important and an essential part of the ecosystem. There are Nilgiri Tahrs that live in the highest peaks, mostly in herds. One evening, we spent two hours with a herd of hundred in the second-highest peak in South India. At a distance of some thousand feet! They are so sensitive. They seemed to say, "We don't like you humans." There are Olive Ridley Turtles that swim in the Indian Ocean. And I have always been fascinated by Great Pied Hornbills. I don't know why. Maybe because of their colours or their preference for tall trees. I feel that they fly on top of this world as if they know everything that's happening down here. My choices are more philosophical, I guess.

What is the best way to introduce children to environmental issues? Is it through books, visits to sanctuaries/zoos, interactions with animals or watching Nature shows on TV?

Maybe books, because I write them! But books tend to be a bit unreal. In a zoo, the animals are caged. The wilderness is all about freedom, mobility and an inner peace, despite its dangers to life. It's about living. If we take a child on the lion safari at Vandalur zoo, the image of a lion he/she will carry back will be that of a sleeping, ugly creature. Nature shows are fascinating. They wake up the slumbering adventure spirit in kids. It will be tough to get the gadget-generation that is glued to the virtual world, to take an interest in ornithology, wildlife biology or even to trek. Initially, parents have to introduce children to Nature. Children should be taught that this planet is our home. As far as we know, the only home. Not one with walls but a home with a sky, seas, a sun, clouds, rain...

The Artist 

After completing his Masters from Visva Bharati University, Santiniketan, Sandip K. Luis is now a researcher at the School of Arts and Aesthetics, JNU, New Delhi. This is his first book for Tulika.

Sandip says he was fascinated by the story, especially the confrontation between Moorthy the makhna, and Thangam, the man chosen by the Forest Department to hunt down the elephant. 

What were your first thoughts when you read the story?

First of all, I was really taken in by the characters of makhna and Thangam, who appeared to me as inseparable for some mysterious reason. For me, the most striking scene in the story was the exchange of gaze between the makhna and Thangam, which was unlike what a reader might typically expect from a violent confrontation between the hunter and the hunted. It was, to me, the real mystery of the story despite its much-anticipated conclusion of the makhna being captured. My illustrations are inspired by this 'mysteriously disappointing confrontation' between the makhna and Thangam. I think the writer's actual literary contribution was bringing out a complex mystery like this, from a real-life incident and I felt I had to stay true to it. As an artist, I also wanted to translate this mystery from its apparent religious tones (as Thangam sees Lord Ganesha in the makhna) to a more humane (or even 'animal') level. But this is the most difficult task, and I think my success is only partial.

Have you been to the forests and seen wild elephants up close?

Though I was brought up in the city, I have been to the forest many times because my mother's house is in Kolayad, on the fringes of the Nilambur forest in Kerala. Once, my friends and I were on our way to Sabarimala. We were walking towards a distant forest shelter on a dark evening, and came across numerous recently-upturned little trees, and fresh elephant dung. We were far behind our senior fellow-travellers, and were not even sure if we were on the right track. For me and my artist friends, with our wild and crazy imagination, this experience itself was enough to visualise the most ferocious elephants on the planet, though the real elephant (or elephants, we are still not sure) might have been gentle and kind.

What medium did you use to create the pictures?

Water colour. I generally work with it because it is more light and fluent, compared to other mediums. But the images are slightly reworked on Photoshop software to give additional effects on the painted surface. 

Have you met Moorthy? If not, would you like to meet him?

No, I haven't. But sure, meeting him will be a great moment, like when Thangam meets his makhna!

In Bon Bibi's Forest

In Bon Bibi's Forest

In Bon Bibi’s Forest is the third book in the series Our Myths that seeks to re-visit well-known and less known stories that have come down to us over the ages. In the process of passing from mouth to ear, they have travelled far away from the circumstances in which they were born, and have acquired new and different meanings. Some have even been catapulted into the realm of ‘unquestionable truths’ fiercely protected by diehard fans. Hence, the furore over the idea of ‘300 Ramayanas’.

But we know that it is the nature of stories to change as people change, society changes, and the ways in which human beings tell or listen to stories in order to make sense of their lives, change. Hanuman’s Ramayana gently shifts the focus from heroic action to humane understanding, Vyasa’s Mahabharata humourously suggests that writing down this massive epic must have involved some moves and countermoves. 

While these first Our Myths titles reach into the two established epics of India, In Bon Bibi’s Forest dips into the ocean of people’s stories. It has an actual and still pristinely preserved setting: Sundarban spread across a vast delta that spills into the Bay of Bengal and across India and Bangladesh. The forests there are different, and the habitat difficult to negotiate, for both humans and animals. This is the home of the Royal Bengal Tiger. It is also the home of many families who live spread out over some of the inhabited mudflats and islands that are crisscrossed by river waters swelling and ebbing as the sea rushes in and out every night and day. These mangroves are some of the most biodiverse regions in the world and the least impacted by human development activities.

Bon Bibi, the 'Lady of the Forest'

Naturally, therefore, stories grew around the tiger as human beings discovered they were powerless before its might. This is how the story of Bon Bibi was born. And although she is today considered a goddess, she really doesn’t have any religious affiliation herself and those who worship her do so because she speaks to them of things that matter to their lives. 

Painting by six-year old Patachitrakar Sonal

As with all myths and hoary stories, this one too twists and turns with different elements. In Bon Bibi’s Forest focuses on the tiger of Sundarban which is smaller in size, researchers tell us, than the other tigers of India. It is also more aggressive, although researchers don’t quite know why. The people of Sundarban live in its shadow, but they also somehow feel protected by it. They regularly re-enact the story of Bon Bibi and Dokkhin Rai to renew an old promise to use the forest with a pure heart. This retelling reminds readers that if the tiger is healthy, the ecosystem will be healthy.

In the moment. . .

Sometimes we find stories in the things that we see and experience. At other times stories find us. In the case of The Tamarind Tree, both were true! I had just put down the phone after rashly promising to write a story for my 5 year old nephew. As I turned to look out of the window, I heard the happy shrieks of young boys climbing the tamarind tree outside.  It was something I had witnessed each fruit bearing season. I could not resist sharing it with a little boy who is growing up in a time when the joy and adventure of life are rarely sought in the infinite possibilities of the everyday and the commonplace. 
- Lata Mani, Author 
Lata talks a little more about the pleasures of experiencing stillness and savouring little things that very often lead to discoveries about self and the world, in the following excerpts from articles that appeared in The Hindu...

 ... The last thing she expected to do was write for children. “I did not read much as a child. My stories were oral. I imagined telling a story, not writing it…” All that changed when her nephew Gautam asked her to write a story for him. “When you promise a child something, you have to fulfil it. I bravely ventured into new territory, and enjoyed doing it. That’s because I love children’s books. Take A.A. Milne’s Winnie the Pooh. Earnest H. Shepard’s line drawings of Winnie are still alive – and the discovery of innocent relationships among species… That is so important at a time when the world of Nature is often shown as uncertain and dangerous,” says Lata…  

So did she follow a plan to capture kids’ attention? “No, but I realised that my nephew and his friends had very little time to do nothing. As a child, I spent a lot of time looking at the clouds, apparently aimlessly. Now everything is so activity and plot driven…movies, television, books. I wanted to give them (children) a chance to make a discovery that was not didactic.”

That is probably why her books are about slice-of-life moments – four boys’ outing under and atop a tamarind tree, a kid and his father marvelling at a spider’s web – and blissful languor. “A lot can happen when apparently nothing is going on,” she says. Strangely for someone who so evocatively describes the act of plucking a ripe tamarind and eating it that you whiz past to your childhood on a magical cloud. Lata has never climbed a tamarind tree or tasted its intense sweet-sour fruit. “I grew up in Bombay,” she laughs. “I now live in Koramangala (Bangalore) and saw some boys climbing a tamarind tree. I discovered nature late in life. But I have learnt the joys of paying attention to it. And, I want kids to enter a world and discover things.”
- February 2009, The Hindu, Metro Plus 

Her newest venture is in the realm of children's books, brought on by a promise to her four-year-old nephew. These stories are "not plot-driven," she says. "Children are so driven by activity. My most cherished memories of my childhood are doing nothing, looking at the sky, tracing some shapes in the mud, throwing a ball up and down, lots of time for my mind to breathe and float like a kite in the Bangalore sky. 

Children these days are so programmed, taken from one activity to the next and I thought "Is there a way in which one can write stories that built in a sense of ... contemplation in a very simple way that invites children to do nothing? And yet there is so much richness in allowing your mind to wander and see your relationship with Nature."

That is what she has tried to do with The Tamarind Tree and her latest The Spider's Web, about a boy learning the difference between looking and seeing, through his father's camera.
- February 2009, The Hindu, Literary Review