Nilah goes in search of the Indian Gaurs

Nilah had often heard tourists call them ‘bisons’. But Paati always corrected them. “They are Indian Gaurs, Nilah. The real giants of our hills,” she’d say. Ever since, Nilah had been fascinated by these gentle creatures. One misty morning, with her sketchbook and her squirrel friend by her side, she set off to the edge of the tea estate. She had heard stories of gaurs wandering close to villages these days, and she wanted to see them for herself.
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Sitting on a flat rock, Nilah waited quietly. Soon, she spotted a large dark figure between the tea bushes. It was a gaur! Its body gleamed in the morning light, its strong, curved horns glistening. But what caught Nilah’s attention were its eyes—soft, almost sad. Nilah had learned that gaurs once lived deep in the Shola forests, moving freely through thick canopies and wild grasslands. But much of those forests had been cut down, replaced by tea plantations and roads. With their homes shrinking, the gaurs had been pushed closer to people.
As Nilah observed the small herd carefully stepping through the tea bushes, she realized they weren’t aggressive. They were cautious, trying to find food while avoiding humans. She remembered Amma saying that many people chased gaurs away, calling them dangerous. But Nilah knew they weren’t the intruders. It was the landscape that had changed, forcing them to adapt.
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Closing her sketchbook, Nilah made a little note: Not bisons. Gaurs. Gentle giants who belong here. She promised herself she’d tell their story, just like Paati told her. Walking back home, she turned for one last look at the herd, their silhouettes blending with the hills. “They’re the forgotten giants of the Nilgiris,” she thought. But she wouldn’t forget them.