Judge this book by its cover. A hand-drawn elephant, a monkey, a tortoise, a bird, a butterfly, and a somewhat rakish, thin, balding man with sunglasses border a background of dappled sunlit green. Welcome to the world of forests, its denizens and India’s eminent ecologist, Rauf Ali.
The book is a memoir of Rauf Ali (1954-2016), a wildlife biologist who could write, not just passably, but with style, ease and scholarship. One would assume it would be mostly about elephants, tigers and monkeys, as that is what a wildlife biologist in India would talk about, wouldn’t he? Facts and figures about their migration and breeding habits . . . But to one’s pleasant surprise the book offers more than data collections. It casts a questioning eye over the world of ecology study and conservation in India, the forest department officers, the babus, the academics; and doesn’t hesitate to relate anecdotes at their expense. ‘But why would anybody want to stop progress for the sake of a monkey? I was asked constantly by both the local engineers as well as the police (usually after attempts to get me drunk were made) …’