Keepers of the Wild
Every day they walk hand-in-hand with danger. Take unimaginable risks. Carry with them insane courage. They do it not for the money, it seems, but for the love of animals
Every enclosure at the Bannerghatta Biological Park (BBP) has a small blue board with a name on it — names of the faceless ‘animal keepers’ who take care of the animals, feed them and clean the enclosures; without whom even the veterinarians wouldn’t dare approach any animal.
They enter the grilled dens of lions,tigers , snakes , monkeys and more with nothing more than just a stick (more for appearance than for protection) and loads of guts and sharpened instincts. When the latter falters a bit or when the keeper makes even a teeny-tiny error is when he has to pay a heavy price — like Krishna, the animal keeper who was mauled by lions on March 9 (BM story on March 10, Lions maul keeper at BBP). It is these animal keepers — a formidable workforce — who help in the smooth running of the BBP. And all for a daily wage of Rs 259 per day.
No-show means no wage. Yet, they go to work everyday. As one of the keepers said: “Taking care of animals is the only thing we know.” Dr Nirupama Jaisingh, Veterinary Officer at the Zoo Hospital, says of these keepers: “They are the ones who are with the animals throughout the day and keep a watchful eye on them like they would for their own children.”
'They can smell the fear in you and will attack you'
Ravi (41) Wolf, ostrich and emu Keeper Experience: 15 years
As two wolves pace and run within the enclosure, Ravi displays a Zen-like demeanour. “They have no special bonding,” he says, “except when I call out their names.” Then Rama and Lakshmana (there’s also a third one called Foreign) come to the barricade and rub their body, a sign that they would appreciate a pat. But he doesn’t give them what they want. Because they are dangerous especially when surprised or intimidated. “And there is no telling when.” Ravi has been with the wolves ever since they came from the Mysore Zoo. He enters the enclosure with a stick “just for show” and cleans up the place. He serves them beef even as he keeps an eye on them — as he always does when he is in their territory. “You must not surprise them with an unexpected movement,” he says. And there is no room for fear. “They can sense fear and will attack you,” he explains. Till date they haven’t hurt Ravi. The scars on his foot are from an angry male ostrich (ostriches and emus are under his care as well). When a veterinarian had asked him to bring the ostrich’s egg to be incubated at the hospital, the male ostrich kicked him. Even as Ravi talks to the female ostrich, the belligerent male ostrich starts to chase the female away. “He wants all the attention,” Ravi says. Has he ever thought of taking up another job? Long ago, he had worked in a factory and lasted for just a day, he says. “I was cooped up within the walls. Here I am out in the open with these animals.” But he won’t allow his kids to be animal keepers. “Where is the money?” he asks.
'They show their love by throwing mud and stones at me'
Ramesh (40) Elephant Keeper Experience: 20 years
Chai, chai,” he calls out. It is the elephant vocabulary for ‘come’. At the elephant sanctuary, the 16 elephants look at peace. This is the first park in India to have a fenced, forested elephant sanctuary where they can wander into the forests in the night.
The mahouts (elephant keepers) have to bring them back in the morning (if they haven’t come back), no matter what. Ramesh smiles, showing his stained teeth. “We walk in the sun or rain, and bring them back, sometimes from several km inside the forest.” He hails from Shivamogga and followed his brother to the city. Since his brother was already a mahout, he trained to be one too. Every elephant has one permanent mahout. They stay with their charge right from the beginning. Ramesh learned about 100-odd words to communicate with the elephants. Although the tusker Vanaraja – the other tusker is Sundar – is “in musth”, Ramesh and the other mahouts walk freely among the herd. Vanaraja is standing aloof. The herd and mahouts let him be. “The rest of the herd plays with us and showers us with stones and mud out of love,” he says. Often, he brings jaggery from home as a special treat. Otherwise, their food is ragi mudde (ragi balls) and boiled horse gram, twice a day. Sometimes, an elephant shows anger if served the “same old boring stuff”. “It will refuse to obey us and pretend not to hear us,” he says. They are sensitive and do well with displays of love. “I feed the elephant, scrub it during a bath, and generally pay attention.” A regular risk is being smothered with their love. A calf weighs 300 kgs and its exuberance can squash a human being. But his biggest hazard is when their herd will bring back a herd of wild elephants, as happened last month. Firecrackers no longer scares wild elephants, so they resort to firing in the air with air guns. Ramesh looks at the lake where the herd is and says, “Their company is better than that of fellow human beings.” He smiles the smile of the luckiest man on earth.
'Animals survive by instincts. So do we'
Somashekhar (42) Bear Keeper Experience: 24 years
Ramesha baaro (come),” he calls out and sure enough Ramesha the Himalayan bear comes tottering, peering with tiny eyes through the meshed enclosure. Like almost every animal keeper at Bannerghatta, Somashekhar has looked after several animals before taking care of the bears since eight years. He feeds them milk, honey, grapes and bananas in the morning and sugarcane, carrots, guavas, sweet potatoes in the evenings. In all, each of the six bears gets five-six kg of fruits and vegetables daily. Somashekar’s day starts at 8.30 am and continues till 6 pm. But hours are unpredictable, just as their wards. When one is sick, its listless behaviour does not go unnoticed. He reports it immediately to the doctors. Sometimes, things happen quite unexpectedly. Once, two male bears (who were after a female bear) got into a fight. “It was a fight-unto-death battle,” he says, “and the noise and ferocity was unbearable.” All other keepers ran near the enclosure and guided the public away while Somashekhar entered the ‘bullpen’ to separate the two bears. “Of course, I was afraid,” he says. “But, I had to separate them. Otherwise they would’ve killed each other.” He didn’t get hurt that day as he wielded a stick and separated the two but he has enough battle scars from his three-year stint with crocodiles. After all, he says, these are wild animals. They have to be treated with respect and the awareness that there is no ‘bonding’ that can’t go wrong. “They survive by their instincts.”
'They show their love for me by not killing me'
T. Malikarjuna (40) Crocodile Keeper Experience: 21 years
This crocodile Dundee has been taking care of 24 grey, scaly bodied Cayman crocodiles for the last six years. “Every morning I take a stick and prod them gently just to know they are alright,” he says. There have been times when a crocodile stays still for a day or two with no signs of life. The crocodiles are temperamental, he says, being at their crankiest best at the time of ‘crossing’. And they show their irritation at him by hitting him with the tail. A whack is enough to immobilise a person.
Malikarjuna says the crocodiles show their love for him “by not killing” him. “I bring them food every day, that’s why,” he explains. Anyone else who saunters into their enclosure would not be so lucky. Gharial crocodiles, who are in the nearby enclosure, are deadlier. “They attack with their long snout mouths,” he says, showing them off proudly. His legs (“they always attack the legs”) have telltale scars. But those don’t pain him as much as when his son and daughter saw him clean the water pool. It was smelling so foul and as he removed the waste under the malevolent gaze of irritated crocodiles, his kids were terrified. “They understood that my job is dangerous,” he says. “When we work here, our life is in one hand, the animal in the other.”
'Taking care of cobras is easier than taking care of elephants'
Shivananjappa B.T (45) Snake Keeper Experience: 24 years
He was a lion-keeper for a brief period before he was assigned snakes. He learned about handling snakes as he worked, first as an assistant and then as the keeper himself. Enthusiastic and armed with a bit of ‘devil may care’ attitude, Shivananjappa is the only one who isn’t ruffled as a King Cobra rears its hood at him when he is cleaning its enclosure. But what if he is cornered? “Usually I obey my instincts and do whatever that comes to me at the spur of the moment,” he smiles. Instincts have failed him twice so far; once in 2000 when a King Viper bit him, and in 2011 when he was at the receiving end of an angry King Cobra. Both times he was rushed to the hospital for the antidote and saved, though no ambulance was available. “They bite only when they are touched by mistake or during handling when undergoing treatment,” he says. He watches the snakes, closely identifying the ones who are not eating food. Snakes are known to be anorexic, he says, for psychological reasons best known to them. Ask him if his job is tough and pat comes the reply, “Not as much as the elephant keeper.”
'They are possessive and will attack those who talk to me'
Basavashankaraiah (42) Monkey Keeper Experience: 23 years
He is a BA dropout but with his knowledge of animals, he may well have a PhD. He looks after three varieties — Rhesus Monkey, Lion-tailed macaque and Langurs since 2003. His father and mother worked in the wildlife department too, so wild animals have been part of his childhood. “I love the monkeys,” he says and they show their love by trying to attack anyone who talks to him. Once he had asked the help of another keeper to clean the enclosure of the Rhesus monkeys and a male monkey attacked him. “Since then, no one offers to give me a hand,” he says with a laugh. As we talk, a male macaque throws himself on the enclosure mesh with great ferocity at the spot where Basavashankaraiah is standing. Since the monkeys have three areas (enclosure, field and feeding), he keeps everything clean, checks for damages to the barricades, and feeds them. About 14 varieties of fruits are given in the morning, and the monkeys go to the feeding area — a tiny kennel-like room — for a nibble. Like all animal keepers, he struggles to make a living. His younger daughter is deaf and dumb, so he is sending her to a special school. “I know sign language for all languages except the south Indian ones,” he says, gesturing to a petulant macaque to keep quiet.
Every enclosure at the Bannerghatta Biological Park (BBP) has a small blue board with a name on it — names of the faceless ‘animal keepers’ who take care of the animals, feed them and clean the enclosures; without whom even the veterinarians wouldn’t dare approach any animal.
They enter the grilled dens of lions,
No-show means no wage. Yet, they go to work everyday. As one of the keepers said: “Taking care of animals is the only thing we know.” Dr Nirupama Jaisingh, Veterinary Officer at the Zoo Hospital, says of these keepers: “They are the ones who are with the animals throughout the day and keep a watchful eye on them like they would for their own children.”
Bangalore Mirror spends a day with a few of the animal keepers of the Bannerghatta Biological Park.
'They can smell the fear in you and will attack you'
Ravi (41) Wolf, ostrich and emu Keeper Experience: 15 years
As two wolves pace and run within the enclosure, Ravi displays a Zen-like demeanour. “They have no special bonding,” he says, “except when I call out their names.” Then Rama and Lakshmana (there’s also a third one called Foreign) come to the barricade and rub their body, a sign that they would appreciate a pat. But he doesn’t give them what they want. Because they are dangerous especially when surprised or intimidated. “And there is no telling when.” Ravi has been with the wolves ever since they came from the Mysore Zoo. He enters the enclosure with a stick “just for show” and cleans up the place. He serves them beef even as he keeps an eye on them — as he always does when he is in their territory. “You must not surprise them with an unexpected movement,” he says. And there is no room for fear. “They can sense fear and will attack you,” he explains. Till date they haven’t hurt Ravi. The scars on his foot are from an angry male ostrich (ostriches and emus are under his care as well). When a veterinarian had asked him to bring the ostrich’s egg to be incubated at the hospital, the male ostrich kicked him. Even as Ravi talks to the female ostrich, the belligerent male ostrich starts to chase the female away. “He wants all the attention,” Ravi says. Has he ever thought of taking up another job? Long ago, he had worked in a factory and lasted for just a day, he says. “I was cooped up within the walls. Here I am out in the open with these animals.” But he won’t allow his kids to be animal keepers. “Where is the money?” he asks.
'They show their love by throwing mud and stones at me'
Ramesh (40) Elephant Keeper Experience: 20 years
Chai, chai,” he calls out. It is the elephant vocabulary for ‘come’. At the elephant sanctuary, the 16 elephants look at peace. This is the first park in India to have a fenced, forested elephant sanctuary where they can wander into the forests in the night.
The mahouts (elephant keepers) have to bring them back in the morning (if they haven’t come back), no matter what. Ramesh smiles, showing his stained teeth. “We walk in the sun or rain, and bring them back, sometimes from several km inside the forest.” He hails from Shivamogga and followed his brother to the city. Since his brother was already a mahout, he trained to be one too. Every elephant has one permanent mahout. They stay with their charge right from the beginning. Ramesh learned about 100-odd words to communicate with the elephants. Although the tusker Vanaraja – the other tusker is Sundar – is “in musth”, Ramesh and the other mahouts walk freely among the herd. Vanaraja is standing aloof. The herd and mahouts let him be. “The rest of the herd plays with us and showers us with stones and mud out of love,” he says. Often, he brings jaggery from home as a special treat. Otherwise, their food is ragi mudde (ragi balls) and boiled horse gram, twice a day. Sometimes, an elephant shows anger if served the “same old boring stuff”. “It will refuse to obey us and pretend not to hear us,” he says. They are sensitive and do well with displays of love. “I feed the elephant, scrub it during a bath, and generally pay attention.” A regular risk is being smothered with their love. A calf weighs 300 kgs and its exuberance can squash a human being. But his biggest hazard is when their herd will bring back a herd of wild elephants, as happened last month. Firecrackers no longer scares wild elephants, so they resort to firing in the air with air guns. Ramesh looks at the lake where the herd is and says, “Their company is better than that of fellow human beings.” He smiles the smile of the luckiest man on earth.
'Animals survive by instincts. So do we'
Somashekhar (42) Bear Keeper Experience: 24 years
Ramesha baaro (come),” he calls out and sure enough Ramesha the Himalayan bear comes tottering, peering with tiny eyes through the meshed enclosure. Like almost every animal keeper at Bannerghatta, Somashekhar has looked after several animals before taking care of the bears since eight years. He feeds them milk, honey, grapes and bananas in the morning and sugarcane, carrots, guavas, sweet potatoes in the evenings. In all, each of the six bears gets five-six kg of fruits and vegetables daily. Somashekar’s day starts at 8.30 am and continues till 6 pm. But hours are unpredictable, just as their wards. When one is sick, its listless behaviour does not go unnoticed. He reports it immediately to the doctors. Sometimes, things happen quite unexpectedly. Once, two male bears (who were after a female bear) got into a fight. “It was a fight-unto-death battle,” he says, “and the noise and ferocity was unbearable.” All other keepers ran near the enclosure and guided the public away while Somashekhar entered the ‘bullpen’ to separate the two bears. “Of course, I was afraid,” he says. “But, I had to separate them. Otherwise they would’ve killed each other.” He didn’t get hurt that day as he wielded a stick and separated the two but he has enough battle scars from his three-year stint with crocodiles. After all, he says, these are wild animals. They have to be treated with respect and the awareness that there is no ‘bonding’ that can’t go wrong. “They survive by their instincts.”
'They show their love for me by not killing me'
T. Malikarjuna (40) Crocodile Keeper Experience: 21 years
This crocodile Dundee has been taking care of 24 grey, scaly bodied Cayman crocodiles for the last six years. “Every morning I take a stick and prod them gently just to know they are alright,” he says. There have been times when a crocodile stays still for a day or two with no signs of life. The crocodiles are temperamental, he says, being at their crankiest best at the time of ‘crossing’. And they show their irritation at him by hitting him with the tail. A whack is enough to immobilise a person.
Malikarjuna says the crocodiles show their love for him “by not killing” him. “I bring them food every day, that’s why,” he explains. Anyone else who saunters into their enclosure would not be so lucky. Gharial crocodiles, who are in the nearby enclosure, are deadlier. “They attack with their long snout mouths,” he says, showing them off proudly. His legs (“they always attack the legs”) have telltale scars. But those don’t pain him as much as when his son and daughter saw him clean the water pool. It was smelling so foul and as he removed the waste under the malevolent gaze of irritated crocodiles, his kids were terrified. “They understood that my job is dangerous,” he says. “When we work here, our life is in one hand, the animal in the other.”
'Taking care of cobras is easier than taking care of elephants'
Shivananjappa B.T (45) Snake Keeper Experience: 24 years
He was a lion-keeper for a brief period before he was assigned snakes. He learned about handling snakes as he worked, first as an assistant and then as the keeper himself. Enthusiastic and armed with a bit of ‘devil may care’ attitude, Shivananjappa is the only one who isn’t ruffled as a King Cobra rears its hood at him when he is cleaning its enclosure. But what if he is cornered? “Usually I obey my instincts and do whatever that comes to me at the spur of the moment,” he smiles. Instincts have failed him twice so far; once in 2000 when a King Viper bit him, and in 2011 when he was at the receiving end of an angry King Cobra. Both times he was rushed to the hospital for the antidote and saved, though no ambulance was available. “They bite only when they are touched by mistake or during handling when undergoing treatment,” he says. He watches the snakes, closely identifying the ones who are not eating food. Snakes are known to be anorexic, he says, for psychological reasons best known to them. Ask him if his job is tough and pat comes the reply, “Not as much as the elephant keeper.”
'They are possessive and will attack those who talk to me'
Basavashankaraiah (42) Monkey Keeper Experience: 23 years
He is a BA dropout but with his knowledge of animals, he may well have a PhD. He looks after three varieties — Rhesus Monkey, Lion-tailed macaque and Langurs since 2003. His father and mother worked in the wildlife department too, so wild animals have been part of his childhood. “I love the monkeys,” he says and they show their love by trying to attack anyone who talks to him. Once he had asked the help of another keeper to clean the enclosure of the Rhesus monkeys and a male monkey attacked him. “Since then, no one offers to give me a hand,” he says with a laugh. As we talk, a male macaque throws himself on the enclosure mesh with great ferocity at the spot where Basavashankaraiah is standing. Since the monkeys have three areas (enclosure, field and feeding), he keeps everything clean, checks for damages to the barricades, and feeds them. About 14 varieties of fruits are given in the morning, and the monkeys go to the feeding area — a tiny kennel-like room — for a nibble. Like all animal keepers, he struggles to make a living. His younger daughter is deaf and dumb, so he is sending her to a special school. “I know sign language for all languages except the south Indian ones,” he says, gesturing to a petulant macaque to keep quiet.
