Transforming Mangar Bani into a Living Classroom
Every Sunday morning, Sunil Harsana stands at his usual spot—the edge of the Mangar Bani forest—waiting patiently for the village children. Slowly they arrive. A few come ready with their binoculars, bottles, and bags, while others just join their friends for a stroll in the forest on a misty morning. Giving binoculars to the new participants, Harsana instructs them briefly about the day and the group of some 10 children sets out for a walk in the Mangar—sacred groves on the Aravalli mountain range on the outskirts of Gurugram. “Pay attention and observe, you have to spot and write the names of at least 15 bird species,” says 35-year-old Harsana, a conservationist and walk-guide for the day. He has been running the Mangar Eco Club for almost a decade.
“That’s a spotted owlet,” whispers one of the kids to the group. Soon all binoculars point in the same direction. When the walk ends, the children sit together, discussing the species they spotted. Harsana, who has spent years documenting animal, bird, and plant species in Mangar, encourages the kids to observe, learn, and share about the endemic species of Mangar. But the club is not just limited to birding and storytelling. Under Harsana’s guidance, the children also engage in hands-on activities: building traditional boulder check dams before the monsoon, cleaning trash, and planting native flora species. “Learning about the local biodiversity might seem like an inconsequential effort, but over the years, it had made kids more sensitive about the surrounding biodiversity,” he emphasises.
Children who joined his club in the early years have today matured into eco-advocates themselves. Many of them already know about the native flora and fauna, the threats to the wildlife in Mangar, and issues of illegal mining and human-animal conflict. Some of the kids manage Mangar Eco Club’s social media and YouTube channel. However, bringing children to the forest wasn’t always easy. “In the initial days, people were more interested in development and real estate here. There were clashes between groups,” Harsana recalls, adding, “Parents would stop their kids from attending walks or joining the club. Now, their perception has changed.” Another issue was villagers’ fear that preserving the forest would lead to wild animals like leopards, foxes, and jackals attacking them. “Though over the years, their behaviour has changed. But the support still lacks,” he says.
A local of Mangar himself, he knows the forest well. “I belong to the pastoral Gujjar community. We always had cattle at home. I used to take them to the forest and found myself closer to the forest. The massive mining drives around 2010-12 triggered me to do something. That’s when I started my conversation activism for Mangar,” says Harsana. Affected with polio, his left leg is non-functional. A sturdy walking stick is his regular companion on the rocky Aravalli trails. He has documented more than 245 bird species, 20 species of mammals, and nearly 300 species of trees in the forest. With camera traps, he has captured elusive leopards, sambar, hyenas, porcupines, and more, revealing the area’s critical role in maintaining biodiversity.
Though Mangar Bani was declared a “no-construction zone” in 2016, it is weakly protected. But despite the challenges—the lure of development, the might of real estate lobbies, and threats to the Aravallis—Harsana persists. He emphasises the need for a comprehensive conservation plan for the area’s recognition as a Biodiversity Heritage Site, which would respect local ownership while preventing harmful development. As the children walk chatting in spirited tones, the man from Mangar quietly watches them. Their eyes bright with curiosity, always eager to spot something new; their questions probing about the nature around them... he knows that each walk they take into the forest, each bird they discover through their binoculars, is a step towards a future where reverence and empathy for the land runs deep.
