
Reviewed by Jamal Uddin Jamal
Human settlement and natural wilderness have always existed in a state of quiet conflict. Where human communities expand, forests inevitably recede; this tension has shaped our world since the beginning of civilization. No matter how frequently we celebrate the vital role of trees, the impulse to clear forest land to make room for human progress remains relentless.
Protecting these ecosystems falls to the Forest Department-a vital institution backed by its own ministry. In Bon-Bonanir Neerobe Nibhrite Krandon, author Md Golam Habib brings this ongoing struggle into sharp focus. Habib is not merely an academic observer with an advanced foreign doctorate in forestry; he spent decades within the department, ultimately rising to serve as the Chief Conservator of Forests. His profound connection to Bengal’s lush green landscapes comes from a lifetime on the front lines. He intimately understands the quiet life of trees, listens to their unspoken distress, and passionately urges us to treat our natural world with empathy.
As a forest officer, Habib’s official duties frequently took him deep into the Sundarbans, leading to harrowing face-to-face encounters with wild tigers. Even with precautions in place, his accounts of tracking man-eaters and confronting apex predators are genuinely spine-tingling. His rich experiences across rivers, coastal waters, and rugged terrains bring a vivid, authentic pulse to the book.
The narrative also gives voice to the working-class communities whose lives are intertwined with the wild. It paints an intimate portrait of local fishermen battling the elements, honey gatherers risking their lives in the canopy, and the constant threat posed by forest bandits. Readers are also taken through the majestic landscapes of the Garo, Lushai, and Khasi Hills. Most gripping, perhaps, are Habib’s personal accounts of tracking three notorious man-eating tigers that terrorized local villages and livestock, capturing the raw anxiety that gripped those communities. For younger readers in particular, these stories offer a fascinating look into the natural world, inspiring a genuine love for trees and a commitment to conservation.
Habib’s deep compassion for nature shines brightest in his own reflections:
"Do trees writhe in pain when struck by an axe or a saw? When vast forests shrink as their limbs are severed, can the forest weep? It feels as though when their trunks are split, they cry out in anguish. Yet those cries never reach the ears of the woodcutter with an axe or the hunter with a gun. Deep in the night, surrounded by impenetrable darkness and eerie silence, I have stood countless times inside remote, dense forests, trying to imagine the inner voice of these giant trees. It felt as if they were whispering their fears-that they, too, live in dread. At any moment, a villain might strike them with an axe, severing their bodies blow by blow. They will weep, and their unspoken sorrow will echo through the woods, yet it will evoke no feeling in the heart of the intruder wielding the axe."
This poignant imagery echoes Sir Jagadish Chandra Bose’s famous essay Kobita O Biggan (Poetry and Science), reminding us that nature, too, possesses a voice if only we take the time to listen.
Spanning 814 pages, Bon-Bonanir Neerobe Nibhite Krandon is a sweeping, comprehensive work. Yet, thanks to its concise chapter design, no element of the natural world feels overlooked.
The closing chapter leaves a lasting impression by highlighting the author's unshakeable integrity. Prior to his retirement around 1986, the sitting minister unethically demanded that Habib hand over his official duties to a Joint Secretary. Habib stood firm, insisting that departmental regulations required transferring responsibility directly to a qualified Forest Department officer. Despite intense pressure, arguments, and threats, he refused to back down, ultimately forcing the minister to retract the order and follow proper protocol. This final account stands as an inspiring testament to ethics, moral courage, and patriotism for future generations.