Latest news with #Valmik
The Hindu
12-06-2025
- General
- The Hindu
Valmik Thapar and the golden light
He could have been carved from a granite crag of Ranthambhore, the place he delighted in. A mountain of a man, full-bearded, with a voice like thunder, Valmik Thapar could seem intimidating but was actually gentle and courteous. I enjoyed working with him on several of his books, and not one of my colleagues ever had an unkind word to say about him. That said, he was happiest in the wild, and didn't much care for the social circuit of Delhi, his home city. He wasn't one for small talk, preferring to use his voice, as with all the other faculties and resources he could muster, in service of the beloved tigers he had been obsessed with for 50 years. Valmik was the son of the distinguished public intellectuals Raj and Romesh Thapar, who started the influential magazine, Seminar. The Thapars were friends with many important politicians and industrialists, but did not hesitate to hold them to account when they erred. Valmik inherited the fearlessness of his parents and often took on the wealthy and powerful when they stood in the way of his determination to save wild tigers from extinction. Transforming Ranthambhore Over more than 40 books (including the last one he ever wrote, The Mysterious World Of Tigers — with his usual meticulousness, he finalised the proofs from his hospital bed, a few days before he passed away from cancer on May 31, 2025) and documentaries, he described in detail how he was drawn into the world of tigers. At the age of 23, he felt tired and disillusioned by the purposelessness of his life in Delhi. In early 1976, he decided to visit Ranthambhore in Rajasthan on the off chance he might see a tiger or two — there was no real thought behind this visit except the desire to flee the city and the ennui he felt there. When he disembarked at Sawai Madhopur, the train station from where he would have to make his way to Ranthambhore National Park, he wasn't much impressed by what he saw. A dirty small town in the Indian hinterland, indistinguishable from the other dirty small towns dotted all over the country, it seemed highly improbable that he was going to find any tigers there. Nevertheless, he figured he might as well get on with it. Hiring a horse carriage, he went in search of Fateh Singh Rathore, the warden of the park, who would go on to become his tiger guru. At the time that Valmik first began visiting Ranthambhore, it was almost impossible to see tigers. To start with, there were very few of them around — 13 or 14 at the outside. These animals rarely showed themselves, mainly because of the constant human activity within the park. Almost single-handedly, Rathore fought to save Ranthambhore's tigers. He resettled more than a dozen villages within the core area, watched over the tigers to ensure they weren't disturbed, went after poachers at considerable risk to his own life, lobbied governments and bureaucrats, raised funds, and more. In Valmik, he found a willing chela (disciple) and a tremendous ally. Through their efforts, along with those of a few other kindred spirits, and a host of dedicated forest officials, Ranthambhore is today a shining example of tiger conservation. What began as 400 sq. km. of parkland has grown to 1,700 sq. km. And, there are almost 100 tigers in Ranthambhore and sightings are common. Emotional engagement Although self-taught, Valmik was a first-rate naturalist, his field observations over the decades considerably expanding our understanding of the magnificent big cat. But what set him apart from other dedicated naturalists was the way in which he disseminated his passion for tigers. Anyone who has read his books and watched his movies can see that devotion come shining through. He would talk unabashedly about the tears that rolled down his cheeks when he saw tiny cubs playing with their mother, Laxmi; he would mention the awe he felt when he saw Genghis, the master hunter, who ruled the area of Ranthambhore's lakes, first demonstrate the art of hunting prey in the water; and he wouldn't shy away from confessing his love for a special tiger he named Noon. In his new book, he writes: 'She was a tiger who filled up my senses… Fateh teased me… that I had fallen in love with this tigress… Many scientist friends warned me to keep detached and not humanise tigers, but in truth, I was delighted with my emotional engagement with Noon. It deepened my understanding of the mysterious world of tigers.' One of the things Valmik cherished was walking with tigers, especially in the early mornings. In his words, 'As the sun rises, the golden light slides off the tiger's body. It's a magnificent spectacle.' As I write this tribute, I see him striding through that radiance, watching for all eternity over wave upon wave of Ranthambhore's tigers. The writer is a publisher and author.
Hindustan Times
07-06-2025
- General
- Hindustan Times
A life in the service of the wild and wildlife
Heartbreak sent Valmik to the jungles of Ranthambore. His first marriage had fallen apart in 1976 and he decided the best way to heal was to take himself away, out of his comfort zone, out of the urban jungle of New Delhi where he had been brought up, and into the wild, about which he knew very little. That instinctive decision would not just heal him, but change the course of his life, and the life of many a tiger. He had heard about Ranthambore from his sister and brother-in-law — my parents — who filmed a documentary, The Jungle Life of Rajasthan, there a couple of years prior, and had pitched their tent under the great banyan tree at Jogi Mahal. All three of them were now captivated by this special place and also by the man who was then the game warden (later, field director), Fateh Singh Rathore, with his Stetson, aviator glasses, and luxurious moustache. When I arrived on the scene a few years later, Fateh kaka was at the hospital in New Delhi and gave me my first tot of honey, soon after I was born. It was with this pioneering trio, Valmik, Fateh kaka, and my father Tejbir, that I spent my formative years in Ranthambore, living under the canopy of the great banyan and Jogi Mahal, sleeping out in the open on charpoys with only mosquito nets for protection as the tiger's roar, the raspy sawing of leopards, the bark-like alarm calls of sambar deer, and the cacophony of langur monkeys echoed off the walls of the medieval fortress. Often, we woke to find fresh tiger pug marks by our beds. This experience and these three exceptional men shaped me in different ways, and as I look back to an incredibly fortunate childhood, the die for my life was cast around the Jogi Mahal campfire. The discussions varied from the day's wildlife sightings to the positive changes in tiger behaviour post the ban on shooting — they had now started to roam more confidently and freely even during the day without the fear of being shot by trophy hunters — the problems they still faced, and what was needed to ensure their survival. The trio co-authored their first book, With Tigers in the Wild, in 1982, and Valmik went on to become a prolific author, with over 40 books in 50 years. A village that had voluntarily left their ancestral lands in the heart of the National Park, and had been resettled on more fertile and accessible land at the edge of the reserve in 1977, required funding to build a wall around their village school. Jagan, the sarpanch, had come to meet Valmik on a scorching day in June to make a request for assistance. I happened to be present, and he sent me off in 48 degree Celsius heat in our open Mahindra CJ3B Jeep with Jagan sarpanch for a site visit to Kailashpuri village, about an hour's drive away. In his typical matter-of-fact, firm, and gruff way, he told me that it was now my responsibility to raise the funds required, which I was to calculate, and ensure the wall was built at the earliest. I followed his direction, delivered what was asked of me. As any 10-year-old would, I expected a pat on the back from the big man. No pat and no special mention was forthcoming, lest I think I had achieved something already. There was much more to be done, and so I quietly better get on with it. Quintessential Valmik! The foundation and its activities made a lasting impression on me and formed the basis for the many initiatives I presently work on. Though Valmik relished his private time in the wild, observing, documenting, and photographing wildlife and tiger behaviour, he spent a lot of his time with forest officers, guards, conservationists, scientists, and with the communities that lived in or around India's national parks, tiger reserves and sanctuaries, finding innovative solutions to complex issues in his mission to help preserve India's 'natural treasury' as he called it. Valmik made countless critical interventions in the 150 or so government committees and boards he served over his lifetime. From the apex National Board for Wildlife chaired by the Prime Minister to the Supreme Court's Central Empowered Committee for Forests, many State Wildlife Boards, and also the Tiger Task Force set up by the then Prime Minister, Manmohan Singh, in the aftermath of Sariska's tigers being poached to extinction. He famously gave a note of dissent — I think the only one — much to the chagrin of the powers that be. Valmik always said it as it was, without fear or favour. He didn't give two hoots about any nasty repercussions that might come his way. He unwaveringly believed in the truth and lived by it without exception. In the last few years, he was disillusioned with the lack of courage and conviction among many who were tasked with protecting and preserving India's wildlife. Many of his suggestions and recommendations, including his many roars to create a specialised Indian Wildlife Service fell on deaf ears. But, he was not one to give up even when he knew the end was near. As his family, friends, and well-wishers try to heal from the heartbreak of losing him less than a month after he was diagnosed with cancer, the fight to ensure the survival of India's wildlife and habitats, that is so intricately linked with the survival of our 1.4 billion people, will go on, taken forward by the countless people Valmik encouraged, inspired and mentored. That is his formidable and eternal legacy. Jaisal Singh is an author, conservationist, and entrepreneur. The views expressed are personal.
News18
03-06-2025
- Politics
- News18
Remembering Valmik Thapar: Friend, Fighter, Force Of Nature
Last Updated: The tiger has lost its most passionate guardian. But the trail Valmik blazed still runs deep. And we must follow 'I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free." In the quiet sanctuary of Wendell Berry's lines from 'The Peace of Wild Things", I often find solace. Today, those words return with a new weight, because the man who taught so many of us to seek that peace in the wild is no more. Valmik Thapar, India's most passionate advocate for the tiger and the soul of Ranthambore itself, has passed away. The news hit hard. For me, it's not just the loss of a conservation icon—it's the loss of a friend of Ranthambore, a place I hold closest to my heart. A fierce voice gone quiet. A presence impossible to replace. Valmik wasn't just India's tiger man. He was Ranthambore. Not just in a symbolic way—he lived, breathed, and fought for it every single day. Through the awe he inspired in forest guards and guides, in villagers and visitors. Through the stories that clung to the park like mist—of Machli, Noor, Genghis—and of the man who gave us a reason to care. Valmik started young, in the 1970s. Back then, Ranthambore was a fragile wilderness on the brink. What Valmik saw wasn't just a threat—it was a possibility. He immersed himself in the jungle, studying tigers not just as a researcher but as someone who understood their soul. He watched, he listened, and he wrote it all down—articles, books, and documentaries that brought India's tigers into living rooms and policy rooms alike. Over the span of four decades, he authored a score of books on wildlife and conservation, including Tiger: The Ultimate Guide and Tiger Fire—the latter an anthology of India's long and layered relationship with the big cat. He presented and co-produced several acclaimed documentaries for the BBC and National Geographic, such as Land of the Tiger, which aired internationally and educated millions on India's wildlife. He was appointed to India's National Wildlife Board and served on countless conservation committees. In 1987, he founded the Ranthambhore Foundation, an NGO that pioneered community-led conservation and integrated livelihood support with environmental protection—a model that has since been emulated across protected areas in India. Thapar wasn't just documenting wildlife—he was shaping the national conversation around it. His work bridged the gap between field science, policy, and public imagination in a way few had before him. And Valmik didn't stop there. He challenged the system. Took on poachers, confronted politicians, and questioned bureaucrats. He wasn't afraid to make enemies if it meant protecting the wild. His roar often echoed louder in Delhi's corridors than in the jungle itself. Valmik saw conservation not as a job or a science but as a moral calling. A duty. 'I sighted my first tiger at the age of nine in Corbett Park. At 23, it became my obsession, as watching it in the magical setting of Ranthambore mesmerised me like nothing else… Since then, I have served the tiger and will do so till I die," Valmik once told my friend Ina Puri during a rare interview. That devotion shaped everything he did. When I began working on Ranthambore Diary: 9 Days, 9 Cubs, it was Valmik's shadow that loomed large. His way of seeing—of telling stories that made the wild feel personal—shaped my own journey. The very fact that I could witness and write about nine cubs in nine days is a tribute to what he helped build: a park where tigers still thrive because someone had the vision to fight for them. In many ways, Ranthambore Diary is rooted in Valmik's legacy. Every photograph I used, every moment I paused to observe rather than chase spectacle, carried echoes of his voice—that insistence on respect, patience, and deep listening. His writings taught me to see not just the beauty of a tiger but also its context: the rustle of the grass, the alarm call of the langur, the tension in the air before a cub emerges from the thicket. Valmik had shown us that documenting wildlife is about intimacy, ethics, and stewardship. For his part, Valmik never stopped being astonished. In his book, Living with Tigers, he writes, 'I had never seen a tiger chasing a deer in the water. Genghis didn't falter and charged in as sheets of water splashed skywards from the flight of the sambar and the tiger's pursuit of the deer. He missed, but what a spectacle he had created… What I had seen was so intense that it was like being witness to a theatrical extravaganza." That sense of wonder never left Valmik. Nor did his conviction that to conserve tigers was to conserve something deeper—a shared inheritance. Ranthambore, to me, has never been just a park. It is a living narrative stitched together by decades of watchfulness, with Valmik as its most committed chronicler. Without his tireless advocacy, his fight against poachers and policy lapses, and his insistence on science and storytelling going hand in hand, the park would never have become what it is today. But Valmik wasn't just about Ranthambore. He advised prime ministers, served on key wildlife boards, and helped shape Project Tiger into what it became, both through his recommendations and his critiques. He wanted better protection but also smarter tourism. He called out the glorified safari culture and pushed for regulation, always keeping the tiger at the centre. Valmik didn't romanticise the jungle. He talked of vanishing forests, of bureaucratic apathy, of conservation losing its soul to selfies and soundbites. And yet, he kept fighting. Kept believing. I remember conversations where his eyes would light up while describing a tigress teaching her cubs to hunt. And others where his voice would drop, heavy with grief, recounting lost forests or failed policies. He was never detached. That was his greatest strength— and, sometimes, his burden. Valmik's passing leaves behind more than silence. It leaves a legacy—of truth-telling, of fierce love, of action. The best way to honour him isn't through grand words. It's by listening to the jungle, and acting when it calls. I had no shortage of stories and anecdotes about him, thanks to another Tiger Man—Dharmendra Khandal — who kept his spirit alive in every tale he told. The tiger has lost its most passionate guardian. But the trail Valmik blazed still runs deep. And we must follow. My last email exchange with him was in September. I had invited him to a small gathering in Ranthambhore. He graciously replied, saying he would be out of India, visiting his son, who was studying in London. Even in that brief exchange, his warmth came through. That will stay with me—as will his legacy. A columnist and author, Sundeep Bhutoria is passionate about the environment, education, and wildlife conservation. Views expressed in the above piece are personal and solely those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect News18's views. tags : conservation tiger Valmik Thapar Wildlife Location : New Delhi, India, India First Published: June 03, 2025, 22:55 IST News opinion Remembering Valmik Thapar: Friend, Fighter, Force Of Nature
Indian Express
31-05-2025
- General
- Indian Express
‘Roar of the tiger goes silent': As Valmik Thapar passes away, tributes pour in for the wildlife conservationist and author
Valmik Thapar, a renowned Indian naturalist, conservationist, and writer, passed away at the age of 73 Saturday morning at his New Delhi residence. 'Valmik Thapar passed away peacefully early this morning, the 31st of May, at home. He will be cremated at the Lodhi Electric Crematorium at 3:30 PM this afternoon,' a post on the Sanctuary Nature Foundation portal read. A renowned tiger expert and Ranthambhore Tiger Reserve's stalwart, Thapar's legacy has left an indelible mark on wildlife conservation. His passing has sent shockwaves through the community, with many expressing their condolences and reflecting on their association with him. Dr Ullas Karanth, zoologist and tiger expert, described Thapar's passing, saying, 'roar of the tiger goes silent'. 'I am deeply saddened to learn that my friend and colleague of 32 years, Valmik has passed away. I met Valmik in 1993 in Delhi and realised instantly that we were bonded together forever by our passion for the tiger. His passion arose purely from the heart, inspired by the charisma of the cat. My passion was rooted in the mysteries of its ecology, and concern for the fate of tiger populations rather than of individual tigers. As we worked together over the next three decades, I was amazed by Valmik's single-minded focus, incredible drive and the shrewd understanding of how political systems worked,' he said. Among the generation of conservationists of post-colonial India, Thapar, who was born in 1952, stood tall as the most effective and genuine leader, Dr Karanth said in a statement. 'He made his impact initially in Ranthambore, but around the time we met, he was spreading his wings across India to work with several of us on pragmatic wildlife conservationists – not of the 'woke' academic kind that currently predominates,' he said. 'It is indeed extremely sad. He was a good friend,' said Sunil Limaye, former chief wildlife warden, Maharashtra, who first met Thapar in 2010. 'At that time, human-animal conflict with leopards reaching human settlement was being widely discussed. That was the first time I met him where he discussed how such conflicts are all about space, encroachment of the space of animals,' said Limaye. Neha Singh, founder, FORREST, Forest Regeneration and Environmental Sustainability Trust, said that she came to know Thapar through his books. 'As a lead protector of Indian forests, he has inspired a generation of conservationists in India. As fearless as the tigers he protected and studied. His legacy lives on in the forests we are fighting to protect and conserve,' Singh said. Vivek Sharma, founder, Snakehub, and co-founder, IndianSnakes, shared an interesting anecdote. 'I was privileged to listen to Valmik sir live some 15 months ago. He was such a person who would not tone down his opinion just to convince people. He spoke his heart as usual. He explained about problems in Cheetah introduction and his story of Ranthambore. In between his 1.5 hour talk, suddenly he stood up and said flatly, 'I am now 72 year old, I don't have many years left and I want to spend every moment with tigers so I cannot miss any safari and will keep doing so till I am alive', and walked away. That was his passion,' Sharma said. Dr Karanth, too, vouched for Thapar's intellect and his ability to not flinch from speaking out. Thapar's prodigious advocacy for tigers through his television documentaries, numerous books and passionate pleadings with those in power stands unmatched, he shared. 'What impressed me most about Valmik was, he did not flinch from speaking out on what he felt was right. He also intelligently changed his position on issues when rational evidence was presented, a rare trait in most individuals driven by pure passion,' said Dr Karanth. Thapar has been credited with many amendments to wildlife laws, setting up of the wildlife crime bureau, formation of the Central Empowered Committee of the Supreme Court, establishment of the Global Tiger Forum and appointment of the Tiger Task Force. Dr Karanth also said Thapar 'made us all effective on the ground. Regardless of who ran the political show in Delhi, Valmik could get things done. A dozen of us, officials and non-officials, sometimes provided ideas and supported him in whatever way we could.' According to Dr Karanth, who had a long-standing association with Thapar, said conservationists in Karnataka will remember him fondly. 'They enjoyed his support on key issues, such as the closure of the Kudremukh mine, conservation resettlement from wildlife reserves, improving tiger science, and supporting law enforcement on ground when forest department was resource-starved,' Dr Karanth said. As the son-in-law of veteran actor Shashi Kapoor, Thapar, once shared that the passing of his parents Raj and Romesh Thapar left a void in his life. 'My life's work has been very different from what Raj and Romesh did. But their goodwill across so many shades of life cushioned and at some level even gave direction to my life. It is truly amazing. I still dream about my parents and in those dreams I am always in conversation with them, in debate and discussion. That fine-tuning of the mind comes from the rich experiences that I lived through with Raj and Romesh. It is a great feeling because they float in and out of this life I have been so privileged to lead,' Thapar once shared in a 'personal tribute' on Waterman of India, Rajendra Singh, Indian water conservationist and environmentalist from Alwar district, Rajasthan, shared in a post on Facebook, 'I had the privilege of spending time with the legendary Valmik Thapar, including a memorable jungle excursion. He embodied the spirit of wildlife conservation, and it was clear that his life's purpose was dedicated to protecting tigers. His conversations were always infused with passion and insight, with wildlife being the sole focus. Famous historian Romila Thapar is Valmik Thapar's aunt and veteran journalist Karan Thapar is his cousin. Jayashree Narayanan writes on fitness, health, aviation safety, food, culture and everything lifestyle. She is an alumnus of AJKMCRC, Jamia Millia Islamia and Kamala Nehru College, University of Delhi ... Read More
