The heritage of Jim Corbett and the park named after him in Uttarakhand was the subject of an engrossing film “Corbett’s Legacy” by Naresh Bedi at the India Habitat Centre last week. It naturally evoked much interest, for who better than he and his brother Rajesh to perpetuate the legacy of wildlife conservation a la Corbett? The film reconstructs the legendary shikhari’s hunts to eliminate the maneaters of Kumaon almost 100 years ago and has an engaging narration by Tom Alter, himself a denizen of Corbettland.
To defy death in the jungle for the sake of rare photographs, to dare a pride of lions at a water-hole, to deal with gharials and poisonous snakes and, above all, to encounter dacoits and poachers has been a way of life for Naresh and Rajesh Bedi, the tall, fair, bearded brothers of Delhi who have acquired a skill and fame with the camera which few have in India. They owe it all to their father even as their own children owe it to them to become wildlife hunters with a camera. It’s worth telling the story of this amazing family after which many lion cubs have been named in the Gir forest and which has made Delhi proud because of their exploits.
Naresh and Rajesh Bedi made wildlife photography a fine art ever since their days in MIG Flats, Mayapuri in the 1970s. Taking the inspiration from their father, the late Dr. Ramesh Bedi, the brothers have scoured the jungles of India, Nepal, Sri Lanka and East Africa for exclusive pictures of animals and reptiles which have brought wildlife right into Delhi and are examples of a great dedication to photography and natural conservation. Dr. Ramesh Bedi started the family tradition way back in 1937 when he photographed a python swallowing a jackal. From then wildlife photography became a family profession. The three-man team of father and two sons added lustre to Indian photography with unique pictures of men, animals and birds and of strange sights from Ladakh to the Andamans, including those of the elusive snow leopard.
In the jungle there have been times when Naresh and Rajesh have stood just a few feet away from roaring tigers, child-lifting hyenas, bloodthirsty wolves and crocodiles, defying fate to get their pictures. Once they recall they came across a wounded tigress who was in great pain. Taking pity on it at the risk of their lives the brothers and their father climbed a tree and having put some medicine on a rag they applied it to the wound with the help of a long pole. The tigress seemed to have appreciated this gesture and left soon after. At another time the brothers had to run for a whole night to escape the Chambal Valley dacoits who had accosted them while they were out photographing a crocodile laying eggs. At yet another time in the Andamans, Rajesh Bedi stood within striking distance of a huge cobra that was devouring smaller snakes in a frenzy. The prized picture still adorns the Bedis drawing room in Rajouri Garden, New Delhi. An important field of activity of the brothers has been the Gir forest, the last habitat of the Asiatic lion. The Bedis have not only photographed the lions in various moods and at different times of the day and night, they have also helped to draw attention to the danger facing this rare species and helped in its conservation. Once they helped pull out a lioness that had fallen into a well and was about to be killed by poachers.
Dr. Ramesh Bedi wrote several books on wildlife in which he vividly described the life-style of different animals, starting with lions and ending with monkeys. Birds too had been the field of his specialized study and he had, after a careful study, come to the conclusion that the much maligned owl is neither an ominous bird not a denizen of hell but a solitary wanderer of the night whose diet is mice and small birds. Like him his sons continue to grace the Indian wildlife scene, highlighting the exotic nature of the jungle which is threatened by man and modernisation. Their jungle tales are as absorbing as their pictures and one could listen to them for hours with rapt attention. The National Geographical Magazine and several other wildlife magazines and periodicals of international repute have commissioned the Bedis for photographic studies of animals and birds and to their credit it may be said that they have justified the trust reposed in them.
Go to their houses in West Delhi and you will find a snake crawling in the bedroom or a pair of Himalayan birds calling out from a bush or parrots, owls and even a praying mantis up to their tricks in the garden. Wildlife is certainly a way of life with them and one can only wish them success in their venture to preserve nature red in tooth and claw. Naresh’s historic film on the gharial is worth watching: It was the night of the conjunction of the 10 planets, with thunder and lighting and a fierce wind blowing through the trees of the Nandan Kanan Zoological Park in Odisha. Naresh Bedi stood amidst the hostile environment, his heart beating fast, a prayer on his lips. For several months he had been awaiting this night of all nights to film a gharial laying eggs. The gharial is an endangered species of reptile of the crocodile family which is peculiar to India and Nepal. Gharials are 15 to 18 feet long though some grow longer. The snout is designed to catch fish which, held by the teeth, is swallowed whole. For four years, Naresh and Rajesh, had been filming the gharial in the forests and in the dacoit-infested Chambal Valley. But it was only in the Odisha sanctuary that the brothers had succeeded in filming the rare mating behaviour of the gharial.
Gharials in a zoo.
The reptile gets its name from the “ghara” or pouch on the spout of the male. It was not known what use the pouch was put to. The Bedis found that with the “ghara” the male gharial emits a noise like that of bellows to attract the female, after which both glide into deeper water for lovemaking. Having watched the courtship, the brothers were keen to film the egg-laying. After 32 days of gestation the female gharial looks for a nesting ground. This is the time when she makes her longest journey on land in the whole year. The gharial’s body structure is such that it can glide on water, but on land the going is hard for it. The gharial, being mostly confined to water and scared of the encroachment by man on its habitat has become shy of human beings, Naresh Bedi told me in an interview in Delhi: “I have been collecting gharial eggs since 1960. My brother and I used to employ former dacoits for the purpose in the Chambal Valley”. The hobby continues to excite their children. Even Jim Corbett would have been proud of the brothers’ achievement in reconstructing nine hours of a haphazard film of his lifetime with substantial footage from the Bedis’ own archives.
