Machhali, also known as Mataji, was a living wonder. Born in 1997, she lived for two decades, defying both observation and science. The average life of a wild tiger is held to be around 12 years, Machhali, despite the additional responsibility of rearing cubs, went on to live like an empress of her domain. But for the last few years, when she lost her canines and had cataract in her eyes, she was a poor shadow of the tiger who dauntlessly ruled the lakes of Ranthambhore. Her four litters (I believe 9 cubs) and their off-spring constitute the significant majority of the gene pool of this part of the West Indian Tiger landscape. Her off-spring travelled far and wide and Broken Tail, a male cub from her first litter, was found dead on the Delhi-Mumbai Rail Line near Darrah in Kota in 2003. Her bloodline roams in Sariska too, hopefully secure. In her last days, she was made comfortable and given privacy and for that the park managers–officers and ranks–deserve some credit.
In her time, Machhali granted tourists numerous sightings and was an icon, even before social media became the tool of the wildlife enthusiast. An estimate suggests that Machhali alone was responsible for $10 million every year flowing into the local economy between 2000 and 2012. The indication is clear. Tigers in Ranthambhore (and for that elsewhere) are money-spinners.
While we mourn Machhali's demise, we need to also figure out, how these earnings from tigers can contribute to the sustainable continuance of this species. If the tiger stays, so does the forest. Forests mean water; forests also mean tourists and livelihoods. For Rajasthan, all of these are important.
If we try to look through Machhali's eyes, as a young tiger, she entertained visitors and as the apex predator, kept the eco-system balanced. She raised her litters, that too through the most troubled days of poaching. As her children grew in strength, she yielded ground and left the lakes. She, in her 19 years, gave the Park a mascot and kept giving much more than she was supposed to. If a tiger could do so much for Ranthambhore, can't humans contribute a bit?
Ranthambhore is a small park and subjected to high degrees of pressure. The age-old principle of an inviolate core, surrounded by buffer areas is something that has eluded managers. The future of Ranthambhore lies in effective action in translocation of villages, not just in Ranthambhore but also in its buffer areas right up to Karauli district. Tigers being tigers, will migrate out of the Park. Corridors thus are important, but identifying and de-marking a corridor is an intricate task, given the increase in human population and competing claims for land. Just marking an area as Critical Tiger Habitat will not make it a habitat. A habitat has its own complex set of components, biotic and a-biotic. The dynamics between the various components of a habitat have to be studied, understood and secured. Perhaps, all three have to go on together. Use of the latest advances in science and multi-skill inputs are vital. The state government has taken up this complex task. To succeed, different wings of the government, experts, hoteliers, enthusiasts and even tourists, need to participate.
The time for quarrels is long past. As long as all stakeholders keep faith, tourism, other livelihoods and tigers can co-exist. Money is the least of the problems. The will to work together is the weakest link. The task is doable, as long as we all agree to get cracking.
