Van Gujjars: The Ecosystem People


 
As I walk down the meadow and pass through the oak forest along a trail, a little girl child appears from behind the trees and greets “namastey” and runs away towards a pair of huts yelling “biskoot wale uncle aaye! Biskoot wale uncle aaye!!” indicating the uncle who brings biscuits has arrived.  This little girl is Amna. She is announcing my arrival to her siblings who would gather around me to receive their share of goodies I would be distributing. I am at Deoban in Chakrata Forest Division of Uttarakhand – a gift of nature situated above 2800m adorned by kharsu oak forests and patches of high-altitude meadows. I am here to study the forest dependence patterns of the transhumant Van Gujjars – the people who believe themselves to be the part of forest ecosystem.

Mystique forest of Deoban
The Van Gujjars are a transhumant community probably having their roots in Afghanistan later descending across Jammu and Kashmir, Himachal Pradesh, Uttarakhand and parts of  Uttar Pradesh adjoining Uttarakhand. There are other views that they came from Kashmir region to the Shiwaliks on invitation by the local rulers centuries ago. Today, they are closely associated with the forests and grasslands of the Western Himalayas and the Shiwaliks. The Van Gujjars are primarily buffalo herders – a tradition which they have kept alive till date through generations. The traditional pastoralism they practice is based on scientific principles involving seasonal migration between the low altitude Shiwaliks and the high Himalayas. During the winter season, they move with their herds of buffaloes and the meagre belongings like utensils, a couple of charpoy and clothes to the lower Shiwaliks where their herds would graze for the next 5-6 months. With hot weather approaching the lower hills, they migrate to higher pastures where the regenerated grasslands and new flush of oak leaves provide fodder to their livestock. This kind of transhumance ensures sustainability by recuperating the depleted fodder resources during the resting period.

Amna: Innocence personified
The two huts made of mud, twigs, branches with thatched roof reinforced by a large black polythene sheets are conveniently perched on the sunny aspect of the mountain not far from a natural spring. The huts do not have doors that can be closed and the plinth is roughly square in shape. In these two huts known as “dera” resides Bahseer and his family along with his brother. Half-a-dozen children, all belonging to Basheer and his brother Yasin, surround me, I distribute packets of Good Day biscuits and chocolates that I have specially carried for these children from Dehradun – they love Good Day biscuits. Salma, eldest among the kids, ensures that everyone got one packet of their favourite biscuit. Yasin pulls out a charpoy and spreads a thick dari (quilt) on it, requesting me to be seated. They know that my interaction is going to be quite long. As we sit and talk about several things like their livestock assets, migration routes, income sources, fodder requirement, expenditures, hardships and migratory life, Basheer’s wife Resha appears from within the hut holding small china clay bowl in a saucer with steaming tea. The tea has thick pure milk, few tea leaves and just sufficient sugar yet rich in sweetness of respect and regards that they have for their guests. 
Beard shades it all! A Van Gujjar
A couple of buffaloes and calves have gathered around the huts and are watching us. Resha along with Yasin and another lady disappear into oak forest with ropes, small axe and sickle. They are going to lop the oak trees for fodder. The Van Gujjars do not cut grass, as it is left for grazing. However, the branches of fodder yielding trees like Quercus floribunda, Q. dilatata and Q. leucotrichophora in the high altitudes and Shorea robusta, Terminalia tomentosa, Ougenia oogenensis, Adina cordifolia, Lagerstroemia parviflora and Anogeissus latifolia are heavily lopped by them for the buffaloes. In the high hills during summers, they lop and bring home approximately 36 kilograms of leaf fodder every day while it is slightly lower at 30 kilograms per day in the plains – the difference being lower availability of fodder in the latter. On an average, every day 4-5 trees lopped in the high-altitude camp while slightly more number of trees are lopped in the plains. The impact of lopping and grazing can be seen at a radial distance of about 2 to 2.5 kilometers from the
Lopped trees at Kalsi
deras, each dera having clearly separated forest areas for lopping. The once sustainable lopping practices like leaving at least one-third of the top branches unlopped is now a forgotten practice as fodder availability has drastically reduced as claimed by them. Almost 80 to 90 percentage of the fodder trees were found to be lopped within a radius of half-a-kilometer from the deras. Such intensive unscientific lopping started in the recent times has slowly brought in degradation of ecosystem thus affecting the fodder yield in turn. Thus a vicious cycle of fodder scarcity sets in leading to more intensive lopping that pushes the forest ecosystem to deterioration impacts further fodder scarcity. Poor regeneration status of fodder species that stood at 86 seedlings per hectare in Kalsi (winter camp) and 100 seedlings per hectare in the proximity of deras is a matter of much worry as the future of the very forests on which livelihoods of the Van Gujjars depend is under threat. Regeneration of unpalatable species in the zone stood at 250 seedlings per hectare in Kalsi. This data hints at a probable shift in forest species composition due to heavy lopping and grazing and the subsequent regeneration failure. The meadows in Deoban are being invaded by unpalatable species like Rumex napaulensis and Plantago major that are indicators of heavy grazing. The scenario in Kalsi is also not different with most of the ground cover invaded by Lantana camara and Adathoda vasica. 


Sipping the bowl of tea, I understood that most of the Van Gujjar families are entangled in the complicated debt trap. Their annual income varies from Rs. 46000 to Rs. 165000 depending on the number of milk yielding buffaloes they own. Majority of their income (roughly 46 per centage) is spent on procurement of dry fodder biomass like hay and wheat bran when in the plains. Another 33 per cent is spent on food and clothes. Acute shortage of fodder in the lower hills has forced them to depend on paid fodder supplies that drains them off their income. In order to meet such expenditures, the innocent
Basheer with kids in front of his dera
Van Gujjars borrow money from informal money lenders of the adjoining villages at exorbitant interest rates. Besides, milk is sold at a very low price of Rs. 18 to Rs. 25 per kilogram to the local milk vendors when compared to a pretty astronomical rate of Rs. 50 to Rs. 60 prevalent in the market. More money is borrowed from the milk vendors to pay off the outstanding money borrowed from money lenders. In return, the milk vendor exploits the Van Gujjars by paying them less in the name of interest for money borrowed from them.  Yet another vicious cycle of economic imbalance and exploitation sets in. The economic lives of other Van Gujjar deras in Kalsi and Deoban are not different from that of Basheer as I figured out from the long socio-economic surveys, semi-structured interviews and casual interaction with at least twenty Van Gujjar deras and milk vendors in the locality.

Its been almost an hour into our interaction, Basheer opening up his heart and revealing his life style, hardships and aspirations. The little children merrily played around, sometimes chasing a buffalo calf and at other times sitting on a buffalo that did not mind the children on her back. Amna squirts some milk into her mouth straight from the buffalo. The women and Yasin have returned back from the forests with three huge bundles of leaf fodder laid on their backs, fastened by ropes. The bundles are dropped to the ground with a thud. Slowly, more buffaloes converged near the huts from different directions. Astonishing, it was, the milch buffaloes approached too close to

Milk can't get fresher!

the huts as Yasin laid open few plastic sheets near the entry of a hut. A few buffaloes, with utmost discipline, walked towards and each of them stood patiently by a sheet. The women and Amna bring wheat bran in a tray and dropped it on the sheets. The buffaloes dig their muzzles into the feed, unconscious of the visitor or the world around them. Other buffaloes waited at a few meters distance, while Yasin spread the leaf fodder for them. Soon Yasin and the women began milking the buffaloes. It was an opportunity for me to personally witness and verify the milk yield and the quantity of milk that would be taken to market by them. While one of the buffaloes, addressed as Nili by Resha filled a bucket with almost 4-5 litres of milk, another one named Banno gave just a couple of litres. “Banno is nearing the end of lactation, that’s why she gives less milk.” Exclaimed Basheer. A family or dera would have up to twenty buffaloes out of which at least four or five would be yielding milk at a given point of time. Buffaloes are an integral part of tradition, culture and economics of the Van Gujjars. Every buffalo is given a name to which it responds when called out. During marriage ceremonies, the groom hands over a buffalo to the bride as part of the tradition and culture. Living in the forest is also not as easy for the buffaloes. Like the wild herbivores, they have herding instinct with calves in centre of the herd whenever a threat is perceived. The buffalo herds are matriarchal with a female leading the entire group even during seasonal migration. As it gets colder in the high hills, the matriarch buffalo frequently moves over longer distances downwards the hill, giving an indication to the owners that its tine for migration down to the lower Shiwalik hills and vice versa.

The social structure of the Van Gujjars within a dera though characterised by patriarchal hierarchy gives much prominence to women in matters of routine affairs. Division of labour is very often shared wherein both men and women collect fodder, tend and milk the cattle, build the huts, fetch water and collect firewood. However, cooking is the sole responsibility of women in the household. Sale of milk is also done by the men, though women enjoy much financial powers as the income is handed over to the women by men. Head of the family or dera is known as lumberdar who takes major decisions, very often in consultation with others including women. In the absence of lumberdar, it is the senior-most lady of the dera who takes decisions. Women are generally, shy and would not easily interact with outsiders. Lack of family planning and bearing several children is one thing that has to be discouraged among the Van Gujjars as it only increases socio-economic burden on them by increasing the number of mouths to feed in a limited resources scenario.

Aaj to roti khaake hi jaana bhaiya” Resha insists me to have food with them today. “Agli baar,” I reply with courtesy promising her to have it next time when I visit. The Van Gujjars are vegetarians as they live in close association with nature. Thick roti made on chulha and aloo (potato) curry is the most frequently eaten food in Basheer’s dera, though at times they cook cabbage, green peas, bhindi, dal and rice. Home-made butter and butter milk adds to their nutrition. The children are still playing unfettered around, some with watery nostrils and some with dreams to become a forest officer like their visitor today. But education is far from even a dream for these kids, perhaps owing to the migratory lives they lead. Officials of the Forest Department want the Van Gujjars to leave forests and join the so-called mainstream society leading a sedentary life. The Forest Department and hard core wildlife conservationists believe, settling the

Resha: the home maker
Van Gujjars at pone place outside the wilderness is a good solution for improving forest ecosystem and also the socio-economic status of the Van Gujjars. I am not sure about this – a community that once lived in harmony with nature as the children of forests – would find it difficult to adapt a sedentary life based on intensive monetary economies. Relocating the Van Gujjars out of their forests would ring the death knell of a unique culture and tradition and bring disruptions in livelihood of the community. Though not easy, it is imperative to educate the Van Gujjars to readopt the traditional sustainable practices of making optimum and sustainable use of forest based usufructs. Keeping a tab on numbers of cattle well within the carrying capacity of forests would ensure coexistence between them and wild animals. Providing access to education, health services and market support for milk and milk products through a co-operative movement can usher in a major shift in securing socio-economy of the Van Gujjars. This can be achieved through massive joint forest management and ecodevelopment initiative involving the Van Gujjars by the Forest Department.

A Van Gujjar dera in Shiwaliks

As twilight is approaching, Yasin sets a smoky fire to a couple of small heaps of green twigs and litter. All the buffaloes gather around the smoke to ward off the mosquitoes, insects and ticks from them – they are lousily preparing to retire for the night. “Aaj yahi hamare saath ruk jaayiye sir” Basheer invites me to stay at his dera for the night. But, I must walk back to Forest Rest House over the hill before it gets dark. “Shukriya Basheer Bhai, phir kabhi aaoonga.” Thanking him, I assure him that I will stay in the dera when I visit them next time. It was a special day for me – a day that offered warm hospitality of Basheer and the humble lesson that man is just a part of the ecosystem.




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