Women In The Wild: Stories Of India’S Most Brilliant Women

Loved this book. Highly recommended!

One of a kind book. Loved reading it.

A very interesting book. Must read for every one

... Bore... ordinary story of women

𝗪𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗶𝗹𝗱 (2023) 🌳🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️🌳𝘞𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘥 - edited by 𝗔𝗻𝗶𝘁𝗮 𝗠𝗮𝗻𝗶 - is another masterpiece brought out by Indian Pitta Books – India’s first dedicated book imprint for bird lovers, conservationists and policymakers.On its pages, you meet some of India's most brilliant women wildlife biologists who have defied all odds to contribute to ecological conservation.The book begins with a profile of independent India’s first ‘Birdwoman’ 𝗝𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗹 𝗔𝗿𝗮 by 𝗥𝗮𝘇𝗮 𝗞𝗮𝘇𝗺𝗶 (notably the only male contributor) who was also arguably the most mysterious figure in Indian ornithology.Then there's India’s first woman herpetologist, the ‘Turtle Girl’ 𝗝 𝗩𝗶𝗷𝗮𝘆𝗮 '𝗩𝗶𝗷𝗶' who fearlessly threw herself into the task of conserving India’s freshwater turtles, in the process re-discovering the long lost Cochin forest cane turtle; the wildlife detective 𝗨𝗺𝗮 𝗥𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗻𝗮𝗻 who studies behaviour of the tiger using DNA analysis, and many more enterprising women who have devoted their lives to the cause of conservation.Some of the biologists profiled are defined by the species they set out to conserve – such as 𝗩𝗶𝗱𝘆𝗮 𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝘆𝗮 who's known for her work with leopards 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘴.Most women featured here have either substantially impacted the species/landscape conservation or have contributed to the resolution of environmental challenges confronting wildlife in India.Biologists who have worked in diverse landscapes have been purposefully profiled. They have gone on to live in all sorts of ecosystems - coastal, marine, Himalayan, tropical, rainforests, pine forests, caves, shola forests - to understand their cultural and historical contexts to acquire insights necessary for identifying and adopting suitable conservation measures.While the essays delve into the scientific contributions of the featured women, what is also central to the discourse is what it took to get them there. It's revealed that some had developed an early interest and others got gradually inspired into it. '𝘉𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 (𝗗𝗶𝘃𝘆𝗮 𝗠𝘂𝗱𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗮) 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭.’The earliest ladies in the field essentially had to train themselves. Now there are several institutes like Wildlife Institute of India, Pondicherry University, and NCBS opening the doors for the young naturalists including girls.Staying the course in these fields isn’t simple either, as Uma Ramakrishnan says, ‘𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘨𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 – 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 – 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘢𝘭.’ Conservation is ‘𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥’ but you can never exit the battlefield.Is being a woman field biologist any more difficult than being a woman CEO?Remote locations, odd hours and long days in the field 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘴 basic amenities are just the beginning of a long list of issues – but arresting landscapes, charismatic wildlife, sense of exploration, potential discoveries more than compensate.Then there are gender-specific problems - a minefield of them. Long and odd hours of fieldwork don’t help. ‘𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵’.The stories effectively bring out these women’s struggles and successes; how they’ve shattered the glass ceiling to how they are now mentoring more and more girls into the exhausting yet fascinating world of conservation.You meet some unforgettable characters – not all of them human of course - flora and fauna, different ecosystems and delightfully different authors too who are naturalists in their own right. Write-ups by crusaders like 𝗣𝗿𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮 𝗦𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗵 𝗕𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗿𝗮, 𝗔𝗻𝗶𝘁𝗮 𝗠𝗮𝗻𝗶 (who’s also the editor), 𝗭𝗮𝗶 𝗪𝗵𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 and several more are as inspiring as they are delightful to read.But the most amazing aspect common to all the stories is the profiled naturalists' emotional connection to the scientific work once seen as a handicap. Women featuring here wear their emotion and empathy as badges of honour. ‘𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘰𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺?!’Answering conservation related questions indeed requires a special energy and empathy for engaging with communities and not just landscapes. No wonder, another common thread through these narratives is teamwork. It is safe to say that for these women, teamwork and cooperation seem instinctive and organic.Overall, what makes this book remarkable is the heady mix of the account of how and what the conservationists have to do, and the vast diversity of the topics and themes covered, all in some wonderful prose.Sample the vivid imagery:'…𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘴) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘻𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘳-𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴… 𝘈𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘶𝘹𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦… (𝘑𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘭 𝘈𝘳𝘢) 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘨𝘦 ‘𝘚𝘦𝘦 𝘕𝘢𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘦’ 𝘵𝘰 ‘𝘚𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘦’!'‘…𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 – 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨-𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩-𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥-𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩-𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘎𝘩𝘢𝘻𝘢𝘭𝘢 (𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯) 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘧𝘰𝘳’.'...𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 24𝘹7. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴; 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘴, 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘴, 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴, 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘰𝘜𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘴, 𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘴!𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘣𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦!'The book promises to be not just an archive of the past glories, but also a fanfare of what is yet to come for the ‘women in the wild’! From Jamal Ara (who debuted her writing career way back in 1949) to youngsters like 𝗗𝗵𝗮𝗻𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗮 𝗞𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗮𝗿, 𝗔𝘆𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗝𝗮𝗶𝗻,𝗧𝗶𝗮𝘀𝗮 𝗔𝗱𝗵𝘆𝗮 and 𝗣𝗼𝗼𝗷𝗮 𝗖𝗵𝗼𝗸𝘀𝗶 – the sketches offer reassurance that a solid edifice is being built over the foundation laid by the scientists featured.A must-read for all interested in ecology and conservation – not just for biologists/women/researchers.Hopefully ‘Ajoba’ the leopard, Ashy Prinia the bird and the purple flower carpets of 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘴 will stay forever with all the readers and go on to inspire many, not just women, to enter the wild in the quest for measures to conserve our beautiful natural world.🌳 🚶‍♀️🐢🌳🐦🐾🌳📗📚📖

Women in the Wild by Anita Mani is an inspiring exploration of women who find empowerment, resilience, and transformation in nature. Through real-life stories and reflections, the author showcases the journeys of women who step into the wild, not to escape life but to connect more deeply with it. The book beautifully captures the courage it takes to break free from traditional boundaries, showing how nature can be both a challenge and a healing force.The author’s writing is vivid and reflective, making readers feel the thrill of adventure and the peace of solitude. Women in the Wild is not just about women in nature; it’s about the spirit of resilience and the undeniable strength that arises from confronting both inner and outer landscapes. It’s a celebration of courage, independence, and the profound connection between nature and the human soul.

Book reviewWomen in the Wild. Stories of India’s Most Brilliant Women Wildlife Biologists. Edited by Anita ManiIn February 2015, I watched with great intrigue a pair of Painted Spurfowl (Galloperdix lunulate) synchronise a dance step of short backward shuffles as they foraged in Pant Wildlife Sanctuary in Rajgir, Bihar. My remit was to prepare a management plan for Rajgir, and I was trying to cobble together a wildlife history of the area. I remember thinking then that there was a dearth of information on the birds of Rajgir. Even species like the Orange-headed Thrush (Geokichla citrina), appeared to be new records, at least according to the bird books and checklists of the day. I did eventually find an old British gazetteer that rather quaintly described the wildlife of the Rajgir hills, including its ‘game birds.’ But I was left wondering how this tiny, 36-square-kilometre sanctuary had come into being. Imagine my surprise to discover while reading Women in the Wild, an anthology of women ecologists, that it was a female ornithologist—Jamal Ara—who had a hand in its creation! If only I had known earlier, her name would have found pride of place in the management plan. After all, how many protected areas in India owe their existence to an Indian ‘Birdwoman’ who once went in search of the Pink-headed Duck? Perhaps I should have dug deep to ferret out this prized nugget of information. But my glossing over of her role is emblematic of the fate of many female wildlife biologists and ecologists—then, and perhaps even today.As a child, I had seen Ara’s booklet on Watching Birds, but it probably never dawned on me that this was a book by a woman—a rarity for the time. Perhaps we were conditioned into automatically assuming that most well-known ecologists and naturalists were male. The closest I had come to hearing about female ornithologists was the fabled Usha Ganguli, whose Guide to the Birds of the Delhi Area was a veritable bible for the Delhibirder of yesteryear. Much later, I came to know of Tara Gandhi and then, in college, about Usha Lachungpa, who also features in Women in the Wild. But while names like Salim Ali, Zafar Futehally, Lavkumar Khachar, et al. tripped off our tongues, Jamal Ara’s name was lost in the mists of obscurity. Arguably, she had led one of the most interesting—and least privileged—lives amongst her peers. But it took Raza Kazmi, in a masterful piece of sleuthing, to resurrect Ara and ensure that her legacy is now here to stay. His portrayal is a poignant tale of a prolific, multi-faceted, self-taught naturalist who overcame a lifetime of struggle to achieve great heights. And Anita Mani’s edited volume on some of India’s foremost wildlife biologists seeks to rectify the historical injustice done to so many of these pioneering women by finally letting their stories take wing.The women that this book celebrates are as diverse and unique as the landscapes they work in, and the questions and issues they address. Yet they are united by their gender, and sometimes perhaps even scarred by it. And society certainly does little to ease their path, dissuading them at every turn. Divya Mudappa, who studied seed dispersers of many hues, including hornbills and civets, is a prolific seed disperser herself, scattering seeds to help reseed entire forests of the Western Ghats. But, as Shweta Taneja, Divya’s chronicler, perceptively points out, Divya has inured herself from the overt sexism she faces by literally and figuratively retreating into the forest to focus on conservation.The reality is that many of our generation had only male wildlife biologists as role models. Some of us learned early to eschew our feminine side, working hard to embody all the characteristics universally touted as defining 'maleness.' God forbid if we were labelled sentimental or emotional or if we revealed any chinks in our armour. I remember once, when I extricated myself from an “I shouldn’t be alive” situation, I was complimented for being “just like a boy.” Science—especially wildlife—as a largely male-driven bastion further buttresses the injunction to remain emotionally detached from our subjects. Each woman navigates this quagmire in disparate ways. Divya takes refuge in the safe spaces of nature, while Uma Ramakrishnan defiantly chooses to both “wear her heart on her sleeve”, as Prerna Bindra puts it, while marching headlong into the very male preserve of tiger conservation and genetics (but she also works on a range of other fascinating subjects, such as on sky islands and sholakillis with V. V. Robin).I’d like to believe that it is the ability of women to listen, connect, and empathise that often lends heft and meaning to the work they do. Ananda Banerjee recounts how Vidya Athreya set out to understand why leopards were terrorising a rural community located far from the forests. The turtle girl, J. Vijaya, whose tragic story is exquisitely brought to life by Zai Whitaker, made so many of her discoveries because of her connection with traditional knowledge and recognition of tribal communities as mentors and gatekeepers of the natural world. Divya Karnad draws upon the strength of traditional fish resource management systems and institutions to illumine her work. Several of the women featured now venture far from science and research to engage in conservation praxis. For them, research is futile unless it engages with communities and drives practical solutions and change.The fact that these women figure in the pages of this book is a tribute to their indomitable spirit and love for nature, science, and conservation. I would often say that only women could weather the thrilling but very taxing conditions of a wild landscape like Pakke in Arunachal, dusted with elephants at every turn—where a phone call meant an 8-kilometre trek through forests and occasional hotbeds of insurgency. And Pakke forged many women ecologists including Aparajita Datta with her pioneering work on hornbills and Nandini Velho, marching to the beat of her own drum, skillfully combining art, ecology, community engagement, and activism.Barring two chapters written by men, the stories, science, and communities formed by these women biologists are narrated through the lens of the many, very talented women writers who flesh them out with sensitivity and care. Pellucid writing embellishes the vignettes. Neha Sinha’s delicate pen paints word pictures of an oak forest in the rains and its scintillating cast of birds—especially woodpeckers—from which a portrait of the woman who studies them—Ghazala Shahabuddin—slowly emerges. The deft editing of Anita Mani melds the chapters in this anthology so that they flow together seamlessly as a river.For many of these towering women, there was often a defining moment that inspired them to take a walk on the wild side, forever altering the course of their lives. But every so often, all it really takes is a book. A book that fires one’s imagination and inspires change. The moment I read T. C. Whitmore’s Tropical Rain Forests of the Far East—sitting in crowded Delhi—it transported me to a world with a bewildering diversity of trees, insects, and birds, filled with intricate connections and skeins of mysteries to unravel. I was hooked, and I knew then that somehow, someday, somewhere, I too would work in a tropical rainforest. For Uma, it was John Avise’s Molecular Markers, Natural History, and Evolution.Women in the Wild too is the kind of book that will inspire future generations of women ecologists to traipse across the wild landscapes of India, solving whatever wildlife mystery catches their fancy. One also hopes it will motivate them to stay strong and true at a time when the #MeToo movement is rocking the Indian wildlife sector.Review first written for the journal Indian Birds