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We never thought
that poachers could turn protectors of waterfowl. We did not think we
could gather critical information on the tiger’s life from deep
jungles of Sunabeda. Or watch our trees of Bijasal & Red Sanders grow
in the summer heat of Orissa. We did not think our voice would be
heard amongst people who matter. We were unsure whether our arms could
grow strong enough one-day as we try holding on to the last swathes of
our vanishing wild.
But the need of
the hour has kept changing: so it has been waterfowl census at times
and tiger census at others, direct and sudden intervention to snare
poachers or gradual spreading of the message of environmental
conservation, helping jungle communities with medicines or growing
rare medicinal plants ourselves.
We have been driven
by the love for the Earth and its arbors of wildlife. Transfixed, we
have listened as much to the chorus crescendo of cicadas as to the
distant trumpets of a bull elephant. Each time a cheetal herd breaks
asunder or golden orioles reflect the sun; we have quietly reaffirmed
our pledge to fight.
‘Wild Orissa’ of
1997 has moved on in these years but it has remained true to its
belief, honest in its purpose and ample on its dream.
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