<p>Karnataka recently showcased a questionable stroke of “genius”: declaring the Beladakuppe Mahadeshwara Swamy Temple, located deep within the Bandipur Tiger Reserve, a tourist hotspot. After all, what could better honour a deity whose mythical vehicle is a tiger than inviting real tigers to contend with crowds, buses, bullock carts, and selfie sticks? The irony is stark: a deity who symbolises harmony with the wild is now being “celebrated” in a way that places the very wildlife sustaining him at risk.</p>.<p>For those who think the temple’s location is random, history and legend tell a different tale. Mahadeshwara Swamy deliberately chose this remote, dense forest as his abode – for its serene isolation, spiritual energy, and the opportunity for harmonious coexistence with nature. The forest offered a sanctuary for meditation, devotion, and protection from worldly distractions. Symbolically, the deity’s vehicle is a tiger, and the tiger serves as the guardian of the forest. Honouring the deity requires honouring the tiger. Disturbing the tiger is, in effect, disrespecting Mahadeshwara himself. The temple’s setting of wilderness reflects a timeless principle: humans are visitors, not masters, in the forest.</p>.<p>The timing of the announcement could not have been more dramatic. Just days later, a villager living near the temple, though outside the forest, was attacked by a tiger while approaching a Forest Department combing team that was attempting to rescue an injured tiger. While the government invites tourists into the tiger’s home, nature issues a stark reminder – tigers do not negotiate with calendars, press releases, or human convenience. This incident underscores the invisible boundary that humans often forget: entering a tiger’s space unprepared can have fatal consequences.</p>.<p>Beladakuppe is not vacant land awaiting development. It lies in the core zone of one of India’s most critical tiger habitats. Lakes and streams here provide vital lifelines for tigers, elephants, leopards, and countless smaller species. Disturbing this environment disrupts feeding, breeding, and the delicate ecological balance. Noise, pollution, and crowds during temple fairs – or now, proposed tourism – threaten the very survival of these animals. Even minor intrusions can alter tiger movement patterns, increase stress, and reduce reproductive success, with long-term effects on the ecosystem. Importantly, any tourism activity or construction within a tiger reserve must occur only in the designated tourism zone, as outlined in <br>the Tiger Conservation Plan (TCP) approved by the National Tiger Conservation Authority (NTCA).</p>.<p>Beladakuppe is not in this zone, and the Bandipur TCP contains no provisions for tourism here. Placing the temple on the tourism map is therefore illegal, violating both ecological science and legal safeguards.</p>.<p>The annual temple fair already pushes these boundaries. Thousands descend with vehicles and bullock carts, and vendors join in with temporary stalls. Even with private vehicle restrictions, human activity tramples vegetation, contaminates water, and stresses wildlife.</p>.<p>The NTCA has recommended relocating the fair outside the tiger reserve. Decades of field research and conservation experience reinforce this warning: core tiger habitats are no place for human crowds. Ignoring it is not just negligent – it is irresponsible and dangerous.</p>.<p><strong>Clear warnings</strong></p>.<p>Compounding the problem is the government’s decision to hand over the temple administration to the Muzrai Department, which the NTCA itself flagged as illegal in its inspection report. This administrative move, combined with promoting tourism in a core tiger habitat, contravenes multiple wildlife and forest governance norms.</p>.<p>The human risk is real. Villages near the temple are already vulnerable to wildlife encounters. Promoting the temple as a tourist destination only increases the likelihood of more such incidents, endangering both locals and visitors.</p>.<p>Karnataka prides itself on its heritage and natural beauty – but heritage is not about Instagrammable wildlife selfies. It is about respect, foresight, and balance. Sacred temples can coexist with forests, but only if human intrusion is carefully managed. Rather than promoting mass tourism, authorities should implement regulated pilgrimages, eco-friendly infrastructure outside the forest, strict visitor limits, and seasonal closures aligned with wildlife breeding cycles.</p>.<p>Tiger populations face constant threats from habitat loss, poaching, and human-wildlife conflict. Encouraging tourism in the core of Bandipur – a park that has survived centuries – is ecologically reckless. To truly honour Mahadeshwara, one must honour his vehicle, the tiger.</p>.<p>Beladakuppe Mahadeshwara Temple deserves reverence, but that reverence is measured not by the number of tourists who are allowed into the forest, but by leaving the tiger’s domain undisturbed, respecting centuries of ecological balance, and listening when nature delivers unmistakable warnings. Wildlife comes first, and in doing so, Mahadeshwara is truly honoured.</p>.<p><em>(The writer is a wildlife conservationist)</em></p><p><em>(Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.)</em></p>
<p>Karnataka recently showcased a questionable stroke of “genius”: declaring the Beladakuppe Mahadeshwara Swamy Temple, located deep within the Bandipur Tiger Reserve, a tourist hotspot. After all, what could better honour a deity whose mythical vehicle is a tiger than inviting real tigers to contend with crowds, buses, bullock carts, and selfie sticks? The irony is stark: a deity who symbolises harmony with the wild is now being “celebrated” in a way that places the very wildlife sustaining him at risk.</p>.<p>For those who think the temple’s location is random, history and legend tell a different tale. Mahadeshwara Swamy deliberately chose this remote, dense forest as his abode – for its serene isolation, spiritual energy, and the opportunity for harmonious coexistence with nature. The forest offered a sanctuary for meditation, devotion, and protection from worldly distractions. Symbolically, the deity’s vehicle is a tiger, and the tiger serves as the guardian of the forest. Honouring the deity requires honouring the tiger. Disturbing the tiger is, in effect, disrespecting Mahadeshwara himself. The temple’s setting of wilderness reflects a timeless principle: humans are visitors, not masters, in the forest.</p>.<p>The timing of the announcement could not have been more dramatic. Just days later, a villager living near the temple, though outside the forest, was attacked by a tiger while approaching a Forest Department combing team that was attempting to rescue an injured tiger. While the government invites tourists into the tiger’s home, nature issues a stark reminder – tigers do not negotiate with calendars, press releases, or human convenience. This incident underscores the invisible boundary that humans often forget: entering a tiger’s space unprepared can have fatal consequences.</p>.<p>Beladakuppe is not vacant land awaiting development. It lies in the core zone of one of India’s most critical tiger habitats. Lakes and streams here provide vital lifelines for tigers, elephants, leopards, and countless smaller species. Disturbing this environment disrupts feeding, breeding, and the delicate ecological balance. Noise, pollution, and crowds during temple fairs – or now, proposed tourism – threaten the very survival of these animals. Even minor intrusions can alter tiger movement patterns, increase stress, and reduce reproductive success, with long-term effects on the ecosystem. Importantly, any tourism activity or construction within a tiger reserve must occur only in the designated tourism zone, as outlined in <br>the Tiger Conservation Plan (TCP) approved by the National Tiger Conservation Authority (NTCA).</p>.<p>Beladakuppe is not in this zone, and the Bandipur TCP contains no provisions for tourism here. Placing the temple on the tourism map is therefore illegal, violating both ecological science and legal safeguards.</p>.<p>The annual temple fair already pushes these boundaries. Thousands descend with vehicles and bullock carts, and vendors join in with temporary stalls. Even with private vehicle restrictions, human activity tramples vegetation, contaminates water, and stresses wildlife.</p>.<p>The NTCA has recommended relocating the fair outside the tiger reserve. Decades of field research and conservation experience reinforce this warning: core tiger habitats are no place for human crowds. Ignoring it is not just negligent – it is irresponsible and dangerous.</p>.<p><strong>Clear warnings</strong></p>.<p>Compounding the problem is the government’s decision to hand over the temple administration to the Muzrai Department, which the NTCA itself flagged as illegal in its inspection report. This administrative move, combined with promoting tourism in a core tiger habitat, contravenes multiple wildlife and forest governance norms.</p>.<p>The human risk is real. Villages near the temple are already vulnerable to wildlife encounters. Promoting the temple as a tourist destination only increases the likelihood of more such incidents, endangering both locals and visitors.</p>.<p>Karnataka prides itself on its heritage and natural beauty – but heritage is not about Instagrammable wildlife selfies. It is about respect, foresight, and balance. Sacred temples can coexist with forests, but only if human intrusion is carefully managed. Rather than promoting mass tourism, authorities should implement regulated pilgrimages, eco-friendly infrastructure outside the forest, strict visitor limits, and seasonal closures aligned with wildlife breeding cycles.</p>.<p>Tiger populations face constant threats from habitat loss, poaching, and human-wildlife conflict. Encouraging tourism in the core of Bandipur – a park that has survived centuries – is ecologically reckless. To truly honour Mahadeshwara, one must honour his vehicle, the tiger.</p>.<p>Beladakuppe Mahadeshwara Temple deserves reverence, but that reverence is measured not by the number of tourists who are allowed into the forest, but by leaving the tiger’s domain undisturbed, respecting centuries of ecological balance, and listening when nature delivers unmistakable warnings. Wildlife comes first, and in doing so, Mahadeshwara is truly honoured.</p>.<p><em>(The writer is a wildlife conservationist)</em></p><p><em>(Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.)</em></p>