A Paliyan's plea

Back in early February 2013, I decided to visit the Paliyar settlement in Sengapagathoppu near Srivilliputtur. When I informed my family and friends of this decision, I was warned to be safe; that the Paliyars typically don't want to talk to outsiders. A search on the web showed that Sengapagathoppu was a Protected Area (PA) under Indian constitution and visits to PA often require permission from the Forest department. I didn't have permission but I figured that even if I didn't get to meet any Paliyars, I would learn something about them. So, on a fine sunny morning, my friend and I took my dad's scooter and travelled east to Senpagathoppu.

Situated about 10 km from Srivilliputtur along the western side of Kerala is Senpagathoppu, which I think refers to Chempaka tree gardens. It is rich in biodiversity and supports a myriad of wildlife. It is also home to the endangered grizzled squirrels, and to my interest - the once forest-dwelling Paliyars. The road from Srivilliputtur to Senpagathoppu passes through a couple of British-era schools, villages, farms, and lakes. There are also some ancient rest houses built for pilgrims to the Azhagar temple (pronounced Alagar) but, due to lack of maintenance, it many have fallen into obscurity. I stopped by one. It was  a large stone structure which had one big hall supported by many stone pillars, each exquisitely carved. The condition inside this building was deplorable. It seemed to be used by people for drugs and alcohol consumption, as hinted by numerous empty plastic water bags and beer bottles. I wondered about the significance of this place in our history and its bleak future. Disappointed, we went back to our scooter and continued west to Senpagathoppu.

A relic from the past - this old abandoned building acted as rest houses for pilgrims visiting the Azhagar temple in the mountains.

 Along the way we saw many exotic birds, most of which I couldn't recognize. We reached Senpagathoppu around noon. We got off our vehicle and looked around. There were about 25-30 small houses in a fairly forested area. I restrained from taking any photographs without permission from the authorities. So I slung my camera on my back and started walking towards a house. Outside, there was a small family. They were short but fit, mostly dark, with distinctive facial features. I said hello but received no acknowledgement. That is when I knew that it was going to be tough to talk to these people. I asked them in Tamil (my native language) if I could a take a picture of them. They said no with a straight face, and waved their hands suggesting me to get out of their sight. It was a rude awakening from my Lalaland where I thought I would get a lot of information about the Paliyars in a fairly easy way.

As I walked around hoping to find a friendlier face to talk to, a slim, lean built man wearing a Lungi approached me. I wanted to formally show my respects and said "Vanakkam ayya" (Greetings sir) to which he replied accordingly. He asked me the purpose of my visit. I said "I want to find out more about Paliyars, their way of life, and how we can cooperate, and share resources". I chose not to tell him that I was here to help because unsolicited help can be considered rude. He smiled and said no one in this village will talk to me. I asked him why and he said, "A lot of people have come to this village in the name of social work or some government programme but not much has changed. We are quite sick of it. No one has the patience to deal with people like you". I said that that was unfortunate because such an attitude will keep genuine people like me away. He looked at me, said that he was once a watchman for the sanctuary, and that he was willing to talk. I was relieved and we walked to his house. After our conversation I decided to write about the injustice he was facing. While I am upset about this tardiness in getting his story out, it is better late than never. So here it goes...



His name was Karuppiah, which literally means "black man" in Tamil, but in the land of millions of Gods it refers to the protector of forests. An apt name because he used to work as forest watchmen for the Forest Department from around age 4. He is now 45 years old, and because he is uneducated he was compensated with goods, such as rice, rather than in ruppees. At first I did not really believe his story, but then he took me into his house to show me photos of when he used to work for the Forest Department. The conditions of the house were quite appalling. The house was built by the government. It had one room, no access to toilets, and the roof was in such a precarious condition that Karruppiah does not sleep in his house on rainy days for fear of collapse.

One day Mr Karuppiah, along with other Paliyars, were fired citing financial reasons. Before he was fired he grew suspicious of the government officials. When he reported illegal activities, such as logging, marijuana plantations, and hunting, his plea went unheard and often he was told to not raise alarm. He suspected corruption. In fact, the government has since appointed outsiders as watchmen and he claims that they have to pay a certain percentage of their salary as bribes to the officials.

The house (hut is a more appropriate name) was built by the government for a price of INR 34000, but that number is the official one. One can only imagine what the actual price of house was after all the due corruption fees were paid. The result is a house that is unfit to live in; it can crumble any day in heavy rain.

Mr. Karuppiah is a modest man but perhaps a poor man is more accurate. What you see are almost all of his possessions.

The entire house is just one room, and this picture shows all of his possessions. He has a daughter who is now married. There are no signs of a woman living with him.

To dismiss any of my sceptical thoughts about his employment with the Forest Department, he showed me his ID card.

At one point he was part of an expedition that surveyed the rich biodiversity of the area. Here he can be seen holding a bat.

Mr. Karuppiah with other officials of the Forest Department.

His requests are as follows:

• Compensation for the watchman work
• An answer to why he was fired
• Why the outsiders were hired, especially when the Paliyars are the best guides and protectors of the forest

Mr. Karuppiah now makes a living by selling honey and even has savings. But one cannot simply forget injustice. He has written to the District Collector but still awaits a response...

Walking the talk...

In my previous blog, I talk about the need to help the Paliyars in a way that is suitable for them. I can go on and have all these ideas but unless the ideas are implemented, I am afraid there will be no progress. But how to help?

I was contacted by ACT India Foundation (http://www.actindiafoundation.org/Home_Page.php), a grass-roots organization to help the Paliyars, because it also shares the same views as mine. Needless to say, I am going to volunteer for them. With my skills and knowledge of Tamil, I sure hope to put myself to use.

Why we need the Paliyars?

I am a native of Srivilliputtur, a small town located western side of the Western Ghats in Tamil Nadu, India. I always felt it a privilege to have lived near the Western Ghats. It is one of the bio-diverse hotspots in the world. As a kid, I would see the huge mountains from my terrace and one peculiar figure that still stands out of these mountainous features. It looks like a big bear crawling up the slopes. But when I saw it through a binocular for the first time, it turned out to be a massive tree (perhaps a Banyan tree). My father would take my brother and I to the foothills of the nearby mountains on weekends but we would stop just before Sengapagam Thoppu, which is at the foot hills of Western Ghats. Sengapagam Thoppu was a popular spot for picnic for rural families. The  adventurous and bachelors would go up to Ayyanar falls. The area's significance was emphasized when  in 1989, the Srivilliputtur Grizzled Squirrel Wildlife Sanctuary was established, covering an area of 476.659 km2 , extending from the foothills of the south eastern slope of Western Ghats to Periyar Tiger Reserve in Kerala. The sanctuary was named after the Grizzled Giant Squirrel (Ratufa macroura), as one of the last resort to save this species.

Many beings that consider this sanctuary as their home, including the Paliyar tribe. The Paliyars were the only human residents of this area throughout much of history. Like most forest dwellers in other parts of the world, the Paliyars were hunter-gatherers. Initially, their contact to the outside world was restricted to occasionally selling honey and perhaps some medicinal plants. They preferred to be a closed society, self-dependent and primitive in order to preserve their way of life. Their knowledge of the abundant food and medicinal plants was sufficient for their survival and being simple minded meant no extraordinary feats of conquest, power, advancement of art and culture. But today, their story is a sad one. A literacy rate of below 27%, high number of HIV infections, prevalent usage of illegal drugs and alcohol threatens their very existence and if anything shows their inability to adapt to our culture after such a long isolation. As early as 10 years ago, the tribal people were hired by the forest department as watchmen but a rift between the chieftain and the senior forest officials severed the once amicable relationship. In addition to this, with most of the elderly of the tribe dead lead to a lack of a moral authoritative figure for the young. Soon the businessmen of the area came and provided them with alcohol and drugs in return for rare plants and game. This on-suite of illegal activities caused destruction of one of the last refuge of pristine and virgin forests of India.

Does this story resonate like like many others all around the world? It should. It is the same story that we hear about natives of the Americas, aboriginals of Australia, and many many more tribal people elsewhere. From all conventional points of view and metrics of success, the Paliyar way of life is not right and not possible in our world. But you see, they do not understand the need for school, or work to earn money to support family or save money for the future and retired to a peaceful life later on. Most of us would see that these are fundamentally important and commonly agreed-upon values. But are they suitable for a community that is very different from ours? The Paliyars belong to a forest-dependent society with little care for one of the most important discovery of our societies; money. They neither understand the importance nor the concept of money. To most Paliyars of today, money is simply a means to get alcohol, drugs, sex and maybe some food. How do we include such non-confirmists into our society? We don’t. At best. we impose our views on them in the hope they would become part of our society and at worst, we have no care for those that do not conform to our values and therefore not worthy of dignity and respect. While most responsible governments take on “assisting” them in merging into the mainstream through socioeconomic programs, most people take the latter approach. In any case, why should we care? After all, what is the incentive to spend our resources on them, when they do not value it? But one is for sure: these Paliyars are anthropologically and historically significant. Their way of life may give us hints of our own history, evolution and the roots of our culture. In understanding and respecting their way of life, we may acquire new ideas to help our survival and in turn achieve a desperately needed peaceful revolution to guide us from an eventual self-destruction of our race. At the very least, these tribal people along with many other such pocketed peoples may be the best conservationists we can have. So it is essential we help them preserve their values and livelihood. We must find a solution that is also accepted by them. An open dialogue needs to be established but with a loss of elders of their society, is there a hope?