The gentle roar of Dooars’ rivers, the voice of life just a few years back, is a wail of despair today. As incessant heavy monsoon rains keep battering north Bengal foothills, the likes of Jaldhaka, Murti, and Torsa rivers have burst their banks, engulfing vast expanses of forest and tea plantations — and forcing wildlife to moan for safety.
In the Gorumara and Jaldapara jungles where elephants, deer, rhinoceros, and many more inhabit fragile equilibrium, the water has pushed life into turmoil. Elephant herds were spotted marching through villages and highways under the darkness of night, their giant feet splashing into mud as they scour for higher ground. Wild boars and spotted deer, whirled around and frightened, have been wandering at the periphery of human habitations — a poignant and uncommon sight.
Locals of Lataguri woke up at night when they heard resounding trumpets blowing along the riverbanks. “A herd of elephants drove past our paddy fields at midnight,” native farmer Ratan Rai said. “They appeared lost. We did not approach — we just sat still and hoped that they would return to the jungle.”
Forest staff and rescue personnel are working day and night, establishing temporary watch camps and leading animals back to safety. “It’s a sensitive situation,” said a Jalpaiguri forest ranger. “The animals are frightened and hungry. Our priority is to keep them safe and avoid any clash with villagers.”
Environmentalists worry it is more than a short-term threat. They cite increasing unpredictability of monsoons and dwindling forest cover that expose animals to floods and displacement.
As the water withdraws slowly, the forest silence is more oppressive. For Dooars’ wildlife, the monsoon has not been merely a storm this time — it has been a test, a test of endurance, a battle for space, and a reminder of how tenuous the bond between nature and human beings can be.
