<p>What’s in a tree? A trunk, a few branches, leaves, fruits, and flowers. Suppose two branches spring forth from the same set of roots; would it make for one or two trees?</p>.<p>In August, while lawmakers and babus in Delhi’s Lutyens zone were busy debating the Constitution (130th Amendment) Bill that proposes to remove people holding high constitutional offices for committing serious crimes, the forest department mandarins were grappling with a problem of an entirely different proportion and consequence: the right way to count trees in the national capital.</p>.<p>The issue arose when the department personnel fanned out to assess Delhi’s green cover this summer. Reports suggest that some tree enumerators were counting a tree for every branch that emerged from the soil, even if it belonged to the same tree.</p>.<p>Tree census is a slightly tricky proposition in Delhi; no, not a wee bit, along the shaded boulevards and parks in the New Delhi district. Those were carefully selected and planted by Edwin Lutyens and his landscape designer, William Robert Mustoe, between 1919 and 1925. One hundred years on, the choice seems to have stood the test of time.</p>.<p>The tall jamun trees, a popular joint for squirrels that raid and gorge on the ripe purple plums, continue to canopy the Lutyens avenues during unrelenting summers. The crushed neem flowers lying about on pedestrian walks still emanate a sharp and nutty odour after an afternoon downpour. Or the elegant arjuns that sprinkle dried pods on acres of manicured lawns around colonial bungalows. While in Delhi, it is impossible to miss the golden shower of amaltas or the sunshine bloom of the multi-hued bougainvillaea.</p>.<p>For tree enumerators, it is the multiple basal shoot-producing variety, like babul and kikar, which has long posed a peculiar challenge. Each branch of these short and thorny deciduous trees that dominate vegetation in the 8,000-hectare rocky outcrop of the Aravallis can easily be mistaken for a separate tree.</p>.<p>On the upside, the Ridge constitutes a large part of Delhi’s green cover, pegged at 371.3 sq km, or a quarter of its geographical area, by the 2023 India State Forest FSI Report. It also offers natural protection against the sand-laden hot loo that pummels Delhi during the summer months.</p>.<p>That said, the trees have to be counted. And in the right fashion. To avoid any further confusion, earlier this month, the Conservator of Forests, through a recent circular, reportedly sought to clear any doubts on what actually constitutes a tree.</p>.<p>A “tree”, the Delhi forest officers were told, has been defined in the Delhi Preservation of Trees Act, 1994. A “tree”, as per the Act, “means any woody plant whose branches spring from and are supported upon a trunk or body that is not less than five centimetres in diameter at a height of thirty centimetres from the ground level and is not less than one metre in height from the ground level.”</p>.<p>So, a “tree” is not just any shrub or undergrowth. It takes some girth and height to be certified as a legitimate “tree”. And, of course, it also entails lots of calculations and measurements.</p>.<p>A statute is a statute. It must be adhered to both in its letter and spirit. Any deviation — the enumerators have been told in no uncertain terms — would amount to misrepresentation of the Act.</p>.<p>Interestingly, just six months back, in March, the Supreme Court of India, while hearing a petition on rampant afforestation in the Ridge, had emphasised the need to increase the cover to 33%. The Dehradun-based Forest Research Institute of India (FRI) is assigned to work with the state government for the project that includes a tree census and afforestation.</p>.<p>FRI, in its report to the Supreme Court, felt that the definition of “tree” under the Delhi Preservation of Trees Act (DPTA), 1994, was “ambiguous”. FRI wants to adhere to the FSI definition of a tree to exclude “non-perennial non-woody species like banana and tall shrubs or climbers.” Moreover, they will only conduct a census outside protected and reserved forests.</p>.<p>In 1996, the Supreme Court of India dealt in some detail with trees, forests, and their protection. In its landmark decision in a case that emanated from a letter written by environmentalist Godavarman Thirumulpad expressing concern over deforestation and sandalwood smuggling, the apex court ruled, ‘forest’ included all areas where trees and vegetation have a dominant presence. The verdict paved the way for a stricter implementation of the Forest (Conservation) Act of 1980.</p>.<p>In 2023, the NDA government at <br>the Centre brought amendments to the Act that aimed to seek an exemption in certain projects. Just in case someone takes trees for wood, the Supreme Court again stepped in to direct all states and union territories to adhere to the definition of ‘forest’ as laid down in the <br>Godavarman case.</p>
<p>What’s in a tree? A trunk, a few branches, leaves, fruits, and flowers. Suppose two branches spring forth from the same set of roots; would it make for one or two trees?</p>.<p>In August, while lawmakers and babus in Delhi’s Lutyens zone were busy debating the Constitution (130th Amendment) Bill that proposes to remove people holding high constitutional offices for committing serious crimes, the forest department mandarins were grappling with a problem of an entirely different proportion and consequence: the right way to count trees in the national capital.</p>.<p>The issue arose when the department personnel fanned out to assess Delhi’s green cover this summer. Reports suggest that some tree enumerators were counting a tree for every branch that emerged from the soil, even if it belonged to the same tree.</p>.<p>Tree census is a slightly tricky proposition in Delhi; no, not a wee bit, along the shaded boulevards and parks in the New Delhi district. Those were carefully selected and planted by Edwin Lutyens and his landscape designer, William Robert Mustoe, between 1919 and 1925. One hundred years on, the choice seems to have stood the test of time.</p>.<p>The tall jamun trees, a popular joint for squirrels that raid and gorge on the ripe purple plums, continue to canopy the Lutyens avenues during unrelenting summers. The crushed neem flowers lying about on pedestrian walks still emanate a sharp and nutty odour after an afternoon downpour. Or the elegant arjuns that sprinkle dried pods on acres of manicured lawns around colonial bungalows. While in Delhi, it is impossible to miss the golden shower of amaltas or the sunshine bloom of the multi-hued bougainvillaea.</p>.<p>For tree enumerators, it is the multiple basal shoot-producing variety, like babul and kikar, which has long posed a peculiar challenge. Each branch of these short and thorny deciduous trees that dominate vegetation in the 8,000-hectare rocky outcrop of the Aravallis can easily be mistaken for a separate tree.</p>.<p>On the upside, the Ridge constitutes a large part of Delhi’s green cover, pegged at 371.3 sq km, or a quarter of its geographical area, by the 2023 India State Forest FSI Report. It also offers natural protection against the sand-laden hot loo that pummels Delhi during the summer months.</p>.<p>That said, the trees have to be counted. And in the right fashion. To avoid any further confusion, earlier this month, the Conservator of Forests, through a recent circular, reportedly sought to clear any doubts on what actually constitutes a tree.</p>.<p>A “tree”, the Delhi forest officers were told, has been defined in the Delhi Preservation of Trees Act, 1994. A “tree”, as per the Act, “means any woody plant whose branches spring from and are supported upon a trunk or body that is not less than five centimetres in diameter at a height of thirty centimetres from the ground level and is not less than one metre in height from the ground level.”</p>.<p>So, a “tree” is not just any shrub or undergrowth. It takes some girth and height to be certified as a legitimate “tree”. And, of course, it also entails lots of calculations and measurements.</p>.<p>A statute is a statute. It must be adhered to both in its letter and spirit. Any deviation — the enumerators have been told in no uncertain terms — would amount to misrepresentation of the Act.</p>.<p>Interestingly, just six months back, in March, the Supreme Court of India, while hearing a petition on rampant afforestation in the Ridge, had emphasised the need to increase the cover to 33%. The Dehradun-based Forest Research Institute of India (FRI) is assigned to work with the state government for the project that includes a tree census and afforestation.</p>.<p>FRI, in its report to the Supreme Court, felt that the definition of “tree” under the Delhi Preservation of Trees Act (DPTA), 1994, was “ambiguous”. FRI wants to adhere to the FSI definition of a tree to exclude “non-perennial non-woody species like banana and tall shrubs or climbers.” Moreover, they will only conduct a census outside protected and reserved forests.</p>.<p>In 1996, the Supreme Court of India dealt in some detail with trees, forests, and their protection. In its landmark decision in a case that emanated from a letter written by environmentalist Godavarman Thirumulpad expressing concern over deforestation and sandalwood smuggling, the apex court ruled, ‘forest’ included all areas where trees and vegetation have a dominant presence. The verdict paved the way for a stricter implementation of the Forest (Conservation) Act of 1980.</p>.<p>In 2023, the NDA government at <br>the Centre brought amendments to the Act that aimed to seek an exemption in certain projects. Just in case someone takes trees for wood, the Supreme Court again stepped in to direct all states and union territories to adhere to the definition of ‘forest’ as laid down in the <br>Godavarman case.</p>