At the elephant camp, Mudumalai.

In my interview process, as I make my way down the bureaucratic/managerial ladder, the stories become more visceral, lively, animate. Incidents of conflict become stories of encounter. Stories of elephants who are attracted to the smell of booze, tigers who become “man-eaters” after they get a taste for the salt in human flesh. Stories of individuals, not species, families not meta-populations. Tribes ceremonially burying the bodies of killed man-eaters as they might a relative. Riots breaking out when a tiger dies, not for the sake of the dead or the tiger, but in retaliation to perceived curtailment of economic development.  

Sketch of a kumki elephant, Wayanad.