Sitting quietly on a worn nawar palang (rope cot) in a makeshift camp on the outskirts of his village, Bapu Hanumathe Kolpe, a shepherd who is roughly 65 years old, speaks of a life spent at the mercy of villagers and forest officials. The sun has weathered his clothes — a white dhoti and kurta, with a long pancha (length of cloth) draped over his shoulder. It has aged his Gandhi topi that rests atop his thick, white hair. His appearance and demeanour tell the story of a lifetime spent in the fields as a nomad, tending sheep, foraging in the forest, leading a life to the rhythm of nature.
Kolpe’s eyes, however, tell a different story — of worry, loss, and uncertainty. As he talks about the pain of not having a safe place and the plight of his flock that are his livelihood, his legacy, and his connection to the land, his voice is tinged with sorrow. “We watch our lambs die, four or five a day,” he says. There are many problems: the lack of green fodder is one. Another is the weather itself. “It’s difficult for them to survive a monsoon. It rains non-stop and the water enters their lungs,” he says.
Kolpe is a native of Hivarkhed near Khamgaon town in Buldhana district of Maharashtra. Despite having a house in the village, he, his sons and their families, and the over 300 sheep, live on the outskirts, in a shevni, a temporary shelter with blue-and-yellow tarpaulin covers held aloft by bamboo sticks.
The Dhangar community, to which Kolpe belongs, has herded sheep for generations and roamed the land with its flock. It is on the Vimukta Jati and Nomadic Tribes (VJNT) list in the State, but the Centre categorises the community as Other Backward Classes (OBC).
Now, according to the community members, their tradition is under threat for various reasons, including the lack of support from government agencies. The Forest Department’s decades-old ban on grazing in protected areas has left Kolpe, and thousands of Dhangars like him struggling over the years. “We’ve always relied on these lands, but the forest officials tell us we can’t graze our livestock in our jungles. Where else can we go?” he says.
Frustrated by the enforcement of regulations, hundreds of Dhangars marched to the Sub-Divisional Officer’s office in Khamgaon on August 12, demanding the establishment of ‘grazing corridors’ for their sheep and goats. The community initially voiced these concerns in October 2022 by sending 12,000 postcards to Chief Minister Eknath Shinde and his deputy Devendra Fadnavis, highlighting the urgent need to restore traditional grazing lands.
However, despite their previous efforts, progress has been minimal, leading to the recent march, which was led by a PhD scholar from the University of Edinburgh, Saurabh Hatkar, 30, who heads the Mendhpal Putra Army (army of the sons of shepherds).
The Dhangar community has herded sheep for generations and roamed the land with its flock.
| Photo Credit:
EMMANUAL YOGINI
Caught between laws
About 20 km away, in Nandri village, Buldhana district, Dilip Murli Hatkar, another shepherd with over 400 sheep, says the ban isn’t just a rule — it’s a daily battle for survival and a threat to their very existence.
“The officials treat us like outsiders. They impose hefty penalties (at least ₹300 per sheep), and when we fail to pay, they seize and auction our flock,” he says. The shepherds in the region live in constant fear of losing more sheep.
For over nine months in a year, the pastoralists travel for more than 400 km in the region in search of fodder for their livestock and return home before the onset of the monsoon. They face a similar problem from the forest officials as they wander, but it increases when they halt for a longer period during the monsoon.
“We are on the road for most of the year, facing hurdles and when we reach home, the struggle intensifies. We can’t go far, because of the rain, and forest officials don’t allow grazing. As a result, the sheep succumb to illness or starvation,” says Subash Bichkule from Antraj village, who has over 200 sheep and goats. Empty medicine bottles are seen at the makeshift camps.
Seated on a palang covered with a gongadi (a rough all-weather shawl made out of sheep wool), he says protecting the flock from snakebites, jackals, leopards, and other wild animals is a different task altogether. “Homecoming is scary for us,” he says with frustration. The nomadic lifestyle also restricts the community’s access to education and health care.
Officials claim they’re simply following the rules. State Forest Minister Sudhir Mungantiwar refutes allegations about restrictions on livestock grazing in forest areas. “There is no outright ban on Dhangars grazing their sheep or goats on forest land. Although it technically violates forest laws, we usually overlook it and allow them access on humanitarian grounds,” he says.
However, he adds that shepherds are strictly prohibited from grazing their livestock in the forests between June and September, as this is the critical regeneration period when new plants are most vulnerable. “They are advised to graze their livestock on revenue land instead.”
He says this practice isn’t unique to Maharashtra, and that many States restrict grazing during the monsoon, when sprouts and inflorescence emerge. “If we allow grazing during this time, there will be no new plants in the forest, which would severely impact the ecosystem,” he says.
The Indian Forest Act, 1927 prohibits cattle grazing, and pronounces a penalty of up to ₹500 in addition to compensation for damage done to the forest, which will be determined by the area’s forest officer.
As per Rules 13 and 14 of the Maharashtra Forest Rules, 2014, pasturing of cattle in forests is prohibited except in areas specially assigned, and always under a permit. However, the State government may give pastoralists permission, keeping in mind “the safety and the maintenance of forests in perpetuity”.
The Forest Rights Act, 2006, also known as the Scheduled Tribes (ST) and Other Traditional Forest Dwellers (Recognition of Forest Rights) Act, permits traditional activities such as grazing. However, while the Dhangars are classified as a nomadic tribe in Maharashtra, they do not have ST status, which is accorded by the Central government.
Bapu Hanumathe Kolpe, a shepherd who is roughly 65 years old, from Hirvakhed village in Buldhana district.
| Photo Credit:
EMMANUAL YOGINI
Political power
Saurabh says the Forest Department issues grazing passes for a dedicated area during the migration period — between November and May — which is of “no use” to them. “We are used to migration and cannot stay at a place for long. It’s in our DNA. Even during the monsoon, members of our community look for a reason to venture out,” he says.
The Dhangars hold significant electoral influence in western Maharashtra, Marathwada, and pockets of Vidarbha and north Maharashtra. The second-largest community in the State after the Marathas, the Dhangars constitute 9% or 1.5 crore of the State’s population as per the 2011 Census. They wield substantial voting power in at least seven Lok Sabha seats and about 40 Assembly segments, including high-profile constituencies such as Baramati, Daund, Shirur, Indapur, and Sangola, which are strongholds of the Nationalist Congress Party (SP) led by Sharad Pawar. The community’s latest demand for grazing corridors unfolds in the context of the Assembly election, which is due later this year.
The Dhangars also play a key role in the Bharatiya Janata Party’s Ma-Dha-V strategy, aimed at consolidating the Malis (Ma), Dhangars (Dha), and Vanjaras (V). This political formula, developed by the party in the 1980s, is designed as a foil to the traditional Congress vote bank of Marathas, Dalits, and Muslims.
“The country’s economic policy is deeply rooted in animal husbandry,” says Rashtriya Samaj Paksha (RSP) chief Mahadev Jankar, who is an MLC and leader of the community.
Reflecting on his tenure as Minister for Animal Husbandry and Dairy Development (July 2016 – November 2019), he says Maharashtra had to import mutton, eggs, fish, and milk from Telangana, Gujarat, and West Bengal, and noted that the situation remains unchanged. He argues that allowing livestock grazing in the State would boost meat production. “Ignoring our legitimate demands could have serious political consequences in the upcoming Assembly election,” he warns.
In addition, Jankar, whose RSP is part of the ruling Mahayuti alliance, called on the State government to issue gun licences to shepherds for self-defence against wild animals. “Our people often venture deep into the forests in search of better pastures, where they face attacks from bears, wild boars, leopards, and other big cats. To protect themselves, the Maharashtra government should grant them gun licences,” he says, quickly adding that if anyone misuses them, then legal action should be taken.
Saurabh Hatkar, 30, a PhD scholar from the University of Edinburgh who heads the Mendhpal Putra Army (army of the sons of shepherds).
| Photo Credit:
EMMANUAL YOGINI
A way of life
According to Saurabh, nearly 70% of grazing areas in Buldhana have diminished over the years. He attributes this loss to various factors, including the designation of land as ‘protected’ under the Indian Forest Act, 1927, conversion to farmland, and development activities.
He cites the 1996 establishment of the Dnyanganga Wildlife Sanctuary, which borders his home village of Nandri, as a significant example. “Since the sanctuary’s creation, conflicts have frequently risen between shepherds and Forest Department officials over access to traditional grazing lands,” he says.
Saurabh explains that Dhangars have followed traditional herding routes for generations, but suddenly in the 1990s, the department began designating protected forest areas. As a result, their movements have been increasingly viewed as encroachments. This is a threat to their future.
“The Forest Department has constructed barriers along these traditional paths, and we are now seen as intruders,” says Saurabh, who is an engineer by education. His doctoral research is on the lives, livelihoods, and identities of the shepherd community.
He argues that tribes have coexisted with forests for centuries, travelling these routes repeatedly. “All we ask is to be permitted to continue doing so. We should be allowed to practise our traditional livelihood, which is also diminishing.”
When the Dhangars migrate, the men tend to the sheep, while the women manage the lambs. Women also cook, fetch water, collect fodder for the oxen, and care for the children.
“The burden on us is twice as heavy,” says Jiabai Hatkar, 70, adjusting her sturdy traditional silver bangles at Nandri. “At the makeshift camps set up each week during migration, we handle most of the responsibilities. Protecting the lambs from wild animals and even dogs is a major challenge,” she says. When the men get back with the sheep, the women identify the mothers and give the lambs to them, to suckle.
Bichkule’s wife Sulabha shares Jiabai’s sentiments. “We also need to forage for firewood in the jungle for cooking. This has always been our way of life — I saw my mother and grandmother doing this, and we are used to it,” she says, taking a brief pause from preparing lunch for her family.
Back in Hivarkhed, Kolpe wishes the forest officials would allow them access to the forest even during the rains. At night, a pack of five dogs guards the sheep. “They play a crucial role in keeping the lambs safe from predators. Sometimes, they give chase and get the lambs back alive from the mouths of wild animals,” he says.
Dilip Murli Hatkar, another shepherd with over 400 sheep, at Nandri village in Buldhana district.
| Photo Credit:
EMMANUAL YOGINI
