Dr. Sathyabama Das Biju leans near a tree by a small stream in the Kerala
forests. It is afternoon, but the trees provide shade and cooling. A small
group of students and scientists wade in, looking for frogs.
The stream is a rushing torrent, and its bed is soft sand and slippery
stones. Here and there are rocks, black and wet in the spray. These rocks
host a number of small frogs. “Micri!” cries one of the students and there
is a huddle. Cameras are whipped out and conversations stop as focuses are
adjusted, ending with a series of clicks as the creatures are photographed
from a variety of angles.
“Micri” turns out to be student shorthand for Micrixalus, sometimes called
torrent frogs because they inhabit fast moving streams. Dr. K.V.Gururaja
scoops up a specimen. He gently pulls out a hind limb to display bright
white webbing between the toes. “This is a male”, he says. “The webbing is
used for foot flagging, a mating display. These frogs use their call to
attract the attention of the females, and then stretch a leg to display
these flashes of white, to bring the females to them”. Dr. Gururaja is a
scientist with Centre for Infrastructure, Sustainable Transportation and
Urban Planning at the Indian Institute of Science, Bangalore. He has
identified two new species of frogs in the last decade and has led several
expeditions in the north Karnataka area of the Western Ghats.
“Interest in Indian amphibians was at a low for most of the last century,
until Dr. Biju came along”, says Gururaja. The last organized major studies
of amphibians, especially frogs were conducted in the late 1920s and the
1930s, by the legendary C.R.Narayanan Rao. With the exception of a few
papers by Dr. Humayun Abdulali research during the intervening years was
close to nonexistent. Dr. Biju changed everything. He is one of the worlds
foremost scientists in the area of amphibian taxonomy - the identification,
description, and naming of amphibians, and has done more than anyone in the
last several decades to bring the cause of the Indian amphibian to the
public.
It is late in the evening when the teams move on to Bonakkad, a small
settlement up in the hills. There is a TV crew present, but the journey has
taken too long for effective shooting. Despite its isolation, the place is
far from silent. There is a steady background drone of crickets. Cicadas
call, starting slowly and peaking at shrill crescendos. But none of this
seems as exciting as the occasional clicking sound that comes from bushes
overlooking the road. The team members disperse in different directions,
looking for specimens. Sonali, one of the students points to a particularly
dense bush. “There’s one there – a *philautus”* she says.
But there are no *Philauti* today, though there are several lizards and
skinks.
“That wasn’t really a *Philautus*,” grins Dr. Biju. “It’s probably a *
pseudophilautus*, a species that originated in Sri Lanka. All it takes is a
single gravid female to cross over the straits – and the freedom to flourish
in a new habitat”.
Its night, the best time for frog frolics. The camera crew is taking pains
to set the stage for some natural shooting. Dr. Biju introduces Mallan, his
occasional assistant in Kerala. “You may think that we scientists are good
at capturing specimens, but I can tell you this. We are nothing compared to
the local people. Without Mallan, half my research would not exist.” Mallan
is lean and lungi clad and moves and talks with economy. He is dispatched to
find some good specimens and returns before anyone realizes he has left.
With him is a *Rhacoporicus Malabaricus*, a brilliant emerald green frog
with watermelon red webbing. It’s also known as the Malabar Flying Frog
because of its ability to glide up to 115 times its length.
The TV crew is initially ecstatic and the sleepy frog is placed on a
carefully selected stem. The frog doesn’t seem to mind, but it is not
interested in giving a good show. It tries to go back to sleep, ignoring the
glare of the lights. The crew film it, but something is missing. The
cameraman decides he wants a shot of the frogs webbed feet. One of the
students teases out a hind limb, but the frog is having none of it. It
immediately pulls its feet back the moment it is released. The cameraman
gives up after a few attempts. He decides to film it from underneath. With
some ceremony, a brown paper parcel is brought up to the crew. They unwrap
it to extract a pane of clear glass. The frog is placed on top, the camera
moves in below. But Malabaricus stays straitlaced, and keeps its legs firmly
together. The crew decide that they’ve got what they want and leave. The
scientists and students move on to the edge of another stream where Mallan
has constructed a makeshift tent. A series of headlights bob through jungle
night, past early elephant warning systems made of bamboo poles strung
across the trail, festooned with bottles and tins, designed to clatter when
touched.
The number of people is greater than anticipated and the tent has to be
enlarged. Mallan and another local man work on it. Dr. Biju tries to offer
some suggestions, but is met by a stream of vituperation from the other
villager. Biju flees, saying “It’s a good thing that most people here don’t
know Malayalam. It would never do for my students to know what this fellow
just called me”. They are clearly old friends.
There are some clouds and a light drizzle, but not enough to affect the
campfire. Mallan places a large aluminium pot on it, and soon there is
tapioca stew garnished with pickle handed out to the campers.
The TV crew return in the morning. They hope to get some footage of
Caecilians, an amphibian order that resembles earthworms. The group moves to
the Bon Accord Tea Estate on top of a hill, where a dig is being organized.
Varad Giri, Curator at the Bombay Natural History Society is overseeing the
dig. The diggers unearth three writhing purple specimens. “Gegeneophis
Ramaswamii”, says Varad. The crew films them wriggling in the presenter’s
hand, as she makes a short speech on the importance of Caecilians in soil
turnover. Another group of diggers have found an egg clutch, with miniatures
wriggling in their translucent white shells. The TV crew is happy.
The students have been sent to Ponmudi, on the Tamil Nadu side of the
border. “Ponmudi is where I started” says Biju. “I trained as a botanist,
and birdwatching was my hobby. It was on these birdwatching tours that I
discovered the beauty of frogs. I took a set of photographs of some
specimens and sent them to some local experts for identification. I wasn’t
very happy with some of the answers I got , so I wrote to Robert Inger, one
of the legendary figures in amphibian studies. His reply was one of the
biggest encouragements I have ever had. I still treasure the letter he sent
and that was the beginning of my love affair with frogs. ”
There is a Caecilian cornucopia near Mallan’s home, and the TV crew want a
short interview with him. Everyone is thirsty and Mallan brings coconut
water. The presenter tries to get him to stay, but he vanishes, reappearing
with bamboo shoots with which he fashions organic straws for the coconuts.
The crew decide to interview Dr. Don Church, the President of Global
Wildlife, a conservation group that supports Dr. Biju.
Near a rubber grove, one of Biju’s students is preparing a stage for
photographing two specimens captured the previous day. Massive cameras are
extracted from tripods and set up as a Micrixalus is taken out of a small
ziplock plastic bag. A quiet and unassuming man helps Biju set up the
camera and brings a huge leaf for providing the background. It turns out
that this is K.Jayaram, one of the pioneers of wildlife photography in India
and a man who has two species named after him.
The Micrixalus is a translucent chocolate with a thick black stripe on each
side. The day’s captivity has made him docile, and he consents to being
petted and posed without a croak of protest. Meanwhile the camera crew have
cornered Mallan for an interview in a rubber grove. Dr. Biju goes to
interpret, while one of his students continues the photography.
Its late evening when the group returns to Tiruvanandapuram. The camera crew
are off to their hotel and everyone else repairs to one of Dr. Biju’s
friends, Dr. K.V.Srinivasan. “K.V.S is one of my oldest friends and he is
one of the most intelligent men I have ever met” says Biju. “If I get to
name another species, I will name it after him”. Biju, Church and he are
discussing Biju’s next effort, a book on the lost amphibians of India, a
year long search that is expected to come to an end in September with a
spate of announcements and papers. K.V.S is the perfect host, keeping plates
and glasses filled, dispensing advise, refreshments and conversation in his
soft voice, while his eyes seem to twinkle at the humourous side of
everything.
“I would like the Systematics lab to become a subdepartment at the
University”, Dr Biju says. “A world class center for amphibian research. I
can get some of the best teachers in the world as visiting faculty. It would
offer a Masters degree, because I need a certain level of maturity in my
students. The first year will be a solid grounding in Systematics and
Taxonomy, teaching students how to do effective field work, and instill
scientific rigor in their thinking. It doesn’t matter where you publish, but
anything that you publish must be subject to stringent peer review. Only
then will you really be able to learn. Then maybe an institute of amphibian
studies…” He thinks about it for a minute, and then smiles. “Then I would
get no time to do the work I love , I wont be able to go out into the field
and look for my beloved frogs”. He waves his hands as his castle in the air
dissipates into a cloud of cigarette smoke.
forests. It is afternoon, but the trees provide shade and cooling. A small
group of students and scientists wade in, looking for frogs.
The stream is a rushing torrent, and its bed is soft sand and slippery
stones. Here and there are rocks, black and wet in the spray. These rocks
host a number of small frogs. “Micri!” cries one of the students and there
is a huddle. Cameras are whipped out and conversations stop as focuses are
adjusted, ending with a series of clicks as the creatures are photographed
from a variety of angles.
“Micri” turns out to be student shorthand for Micrixalus, sometimes called
torrent frogs because they inhabit fast moving streams. Dr. K.V.Gururaja
scoops up a specimen. He gently pulls out a hind limb to display bright
white webbing between the toes. “This is a male”, he says. “The webbing is
used for foot flagging, a mating display. These frogs use their call to
attract the attention of the females, and then stretch a leg to display
these flashes of white, to bring the females to them”. Dr. Gururaja is a
scientist with Centre for Infrastructure, Sustainable Transportation and
Urban Planning at the Indian Institute of Science, Bangalore. He has
identified two new species of frogs in the last decade and has led several
expeditions in the north Karnataka area of the Western Ghats.
“Interest in Indian amphibians was at a low for most of the last century,
until Dr. Biju came along”, says Gururaja. The last organized major studies
of amphibians, especially frogs were conducted in the late 1920s and the
1930s, by the legendary C.R.Narayanan Rao. With the exception of a few
papers by Dr. Humayun Abdulali research during the intervening years was
close to nonexistent. Dr. Biju changed everything. He is one of the worlds
foremost scientists in the area of amphibian taxonomy - the identification,
description, and naming of amphibians, and has done more than anyone in the
last several decades to bring the cause of the Indian amphibian to the
public.
It is late in the evening when the teams move on to Bonakkad, a small
settlement up in the hills. There is a TV crew present, but the journey has
taken too long for effective shooting. Despite its isolation, the place is
far from silent. There is a steady background drone of crickets. Cicadas
call, starting slowly and peaking at shrill crescendos. But none of this
seems as exciting as the occasional clicking sound that comes from bushes
overlooking the road. The team members disperse in different directions,
looking for specimens. Sonali, one of the students points to a particularly
dense bush. “There’s one there – a *philautus”* she says.
But there are no *Philauti* today, though there are several lizards and
skinks.
“That wasn’t really a *Philautus*,” grins Dr. Biju. “It’s probably a *
pseudophilautus*, a species that originated in Sri Lanka. All it takes is a
single gravid female to cross over the straits – and the freedom to flourish
in a new habitat”.
Its night, the best time for frog frolics. The camera crew is taking pains
to set the stage for some natural shooting. Dr. Biju introduces Mallan, his
occasional assistant in Kerala. “You may think that we scientists are good
at capturing specimens, but I can tell you this. We are nothing compared to
the local people. Without Mallan, half my research would not exist.” Mallan
is lean and lungi clad and moves and talks with economy. He is dispatched to
find some good specimens and returns before anyone realizes he has left.
With him is a *Rhacoporicus Malabaricus*, a brilliant emerald green frog
with watermelon red webbing. It’s also known as the Malabar Flying Frog
because of its ability to glide up to 115 times its length.
The TV crew is initially ecstatic and the sleepy frog is placed on a
carefully selected stem. The frog doesn’t seem to mind, but it is not
interested in giving a good show. It tries to go back to sleep, ignoring the
glare of the lights. The crew film it, but something is missing. The
cameraman decides he wants a shot of the frogs webbed feet. One of the
students teases out a hind limb, but the frog is having none of it. It
immediately pulls its feet back the moment it is released. The cameraman
gives up after a few attempts. He decides to film it from underneath. With
some ceremony, a brown paper parcel is brought up to the crew. They unwrap
it to extract a pane of clear glass. The frog is placed on top, the camera
moves in below. But Malabaricus stays straitlaced, and keeps its legs firmly
together. The crew decide that they’ve got what they want and leave. The
scientists and students move on to the edge of another stream where Mallan
has constructed a makeshift tent. A series of headlights bob through jungle
night, past early elephant warning systems made of bamboo poles strung
across the trail, festooned with bottles and tins, designed to clatter when
touched.
The number of people is greater than anticipated and the tent has to be
enlarged. Mallan and another local man work on it. Dr. Biju tries to offer
some suggestions, but is met by a stream of vituperation from the other
villager. Biju flees, saying “It’s a good thing that most people here don’t
know Malayalam. It would never do for my students to know what this fellow
just called me”. They are clearly old friends.
There are some clouds and a light drizzle, but not enough to affect the
campfire. Mallan places a large aluminium pot on it, and soon there is
tapioca stew garnished with pickle handed out to the campers.
The TV crew return in the morning. They hope to get some footage of
Caecilians, an amphibian order that resembles earthworms. The group moves to
the Bon Accord Tea Estate on top of a hill, where a dig is being organized.
Varad Giri, Curator at the Bombay Natural History Society is overseeing the
dig. The diggers unearth three writhing purple specimens. “Gegeneophis
Ramaswamii”, says Varad. The crew films them wriggling in the presenter’s
hand, as she makes a short speech on the importance of Caecilians in soil
turnover. Another group of diggers have found an egg clutch, with miniatures
wriggling in their translucent white shells. The TV crew is happy.
The students have been sent to Ponmudi, on the Tamil Nadu side of the
border. “Ponmudi is where I started” says Biju. “I trained as a botanist,
and birdwatching was my hobby. It was on these birdwatching tours that I
discovered the beauty of frogs. I took a set of photographs of some
specimens and sent them to some local experts for identification. I wasn’t
very happy with some of the answers I got , so I wrote to Robert Inger, one
of the legendary figures in amphibian studies. His reply was one of the
biggest encouragements I have ever had. I still treasure the letter he sent
and that was the beginning of my love affair with frogs. ”
There is a Caecilian cornucopia near Mallan’s home, and the TV crew want a
short interview with him. Everyone is thirsty and Mallan brings coconut
water. The presenter tries to get him to stay, but he vanishes, reappearing
with bamboo shoots with which he fashions organic straws for the coconuts.
The crew decide to interview Dr. Don Church, the President of Global
Wildlife, a conservation group that supports Dr. Biju.
Near a rubber grove, one of Biju’s students is preparing a stage for
photographing two specimens captured the previous day. Massive cameras are
extracted from tripods and set up as a Micrixalus is taken out of a small
ziplock plastic bag. A quiet and unassuming man helps Biju set up the
camera and brings a huge leaf for providing the background. It turns out
that this is K.Jayaram, one of the pioneers of wildlife photography in India
and a man who has two species named after him.
The Micrixalus is a translucent chocolate with a thick black stripe on each
side. The day’s captivity has made him docile, and he consents to being
petted and posed without a croak of protest. Meanwhile the camera crew have
cornered Mallan for an interview in a rubber grove. Dr. Biju goes to
interpret, while one of his students continues the photography.
Its late evening when the group returns to Tiruvanandapuram. The camera crew
are off to their hotel and everyone else repairs to one of Dr. Biju’s
friends, Dr. K.V.Srinivasan. “K.V.S is one of my oldest friends and he is
one of the most intelligent men I have ever met” says Biju. “If I get to
name another species, I will name it after him”. Biju, Church and he are
discussing Biju’s next effort, a book on the lost amphibians of India, a
year long search that is expected to come to an end in September with a
spate of announcements and papers. K.V.S is the perfect host, keeping plates
and glasses filled, dispensing advise, refreshments and conversation in his
soft voice, while his eyes seem to twinkle at the humourous side of
everything.
“I would like the Systematics lab to become a subdepartment at the
University”, Dr Biju says. “A world class center for amphibian research. I
can get some of the best teachers in the world as visiting faculty. It would
offer a Masters degree, because I need a certain level of maturity in my
students. The first year will be a solid grounding in Systematics and
Taxonomy, teaching students how to do effective field work, and instill
scientific rigor in their thinking. It doesn’t matter where you publish, but
anything that you publish must be subject to stringent peer review. Only
then will you really be able to learn. Then maybe an institute of amphibian
studies…” He thinks about it for a minute, and then smiles. “Then I would
get no time to do the work I love , I wont be able to go out into the field
and look for my beloved frogs”. He waves his hands as his castle in the air
dissipates into a cloud of cigarette smoke.