The sky’s forgotten sweepers, invisible cleaners
We ruled the skies once as silent sentinels, gliding effortlessly over forests, hills and human settlements. We, the vultures, were nature’s custodians of balance, the earth’s invisible cleaners, ensuring that death didn’t breed disease. Our wings carried the weight of civilisations’ secrets, and our keen eyes bore witness to empires rising and falling.
But, by the late 1980s, a shadow fell upon us — a silent, insidious plague that dimmed the skies of our tropical paradise. One by one, we succumbed, not to age or predators, but to an invisible toxin embedded in the flesh we devoured. Humans called it Diclofenac, a painkiller for their beasts of burden, but for us, it was poison.
For over a decade, humans remained oblivious to the massacre. By the time the scientists discovered the truth, our numbers had plummeted into oblivion. The populations of three resident Gyps vultures — White-rumped, Long-billed, and Slender-billed — had declined significantly by 2004, pushing them to the brink of extinction.
Amidst the despair came hope, from unlikely allies. The Bombay Natural History Society (BNHS) and the Wildlife Institute of India (WII) emerged as our champions. BNHS, in collaboration with the Forest Department of Haryana, established the Jatayu Conservation Breeding Centre in Pinjore, while WII took a lead role in Kangra district, Himachal Pradesh, and beyond.
At Pinjore, nestled near the verdant slopes of the Bir Shikargah Wildlife Sanctuary, scientists toiled to bring us back from the brink. Aviaries, incubators and surgical rooms became our lifeline. By February 2023, this haven housed 399 vultures, including 138 White-rumped vultures, 209 Long-billed vultures, and 52 Slender-billed vultures.
Meanwhile, in Kangra, the Himachal Forest Department initiated its own efforts in 2004, protecting nesting and roosting sites in Parol, Salol, Chadevh, Daulatpur and Mastgarh. Their dedication bore fruit. Recent surveys revealed 506 new nests, sheltering some 2,500 eggs.
In Kangra’s Pong Dam Lake Wildlife Sanctuary, a sanctuary within a sanctuary emerged — a ‘vulture restaurant’. Here, de-skinned carcasses were laid out, free from toxins, inviting us to dine safely. These became oases of life amid the poisoned lands, symbols of hope not just for us but for humanity’s ability to learn and adapt.
The WII’s research was instrumental in identifying Diclofenac as the primary cause of our mortality. Their advocacy led to a nationwide ban on its veterinary use in 2007-2008. This was a watershed moment, a turning point in the war against extinction.
Yet, the skies were far from safe. Vulture-toxic drugs, including the banned Diclofenac, still circulated in black markets. Other harmful drugs, like Aceclofenac and Nimesulide, loomed as silent threats. To counter these dangers, humans created ‘vulture safe zones’ in regions like Majuli Island in Assam, the Terai in Uttar Pradesh, and Bundelkhand in Madhya Pradesh.
Back in Pinjore, hope took flight. In 2023, eight White-rumped vultures — six captive-bred and two wild-caught — were released into the skies. Five survived the cautious reintroduction, and one, in a poetic twist of fate, paired with a wild bird. They nested, and when their fledgling takes wing, it will be born of the wild — a bridge between captivity and freedom.
In August 2024, 10 Long-billed vultures from Pench Tiger Reserve in Maharashtra were released, each equipped with GPS tags. As they chart their paths across the skies, they carry with them humanity’s tentative steps toward redemption. For us, the skies remain a gamble, each carcass a potential threat, each flight a testament to survival against odds. Yet we endure — a fragile thread in nature’s intricate web, a reminder of the balance that sustains all life.
The humans have learned that without us, death lingers and disease festers. Their efforts at Pinjore, Kangra and beyond reflect not just science but a profound humility — a recognition of their role in our near-demise and their duty in our recovery.
At the Jatayu Conservation Breeding Centre and the vulture sanctuaries of Kangra, humans nurture life from fragile shells and protect roosts in ancient trees. They perfect the art of resurrection. The released birds are not merely vultures — they are symbols of coexistence, reminders that humanity holds the power to undo its errors.
— The writer is a retired Indian Forest Service officer