The Unseen Ripple: When Well-Meaning Hands Unwittingly Harm Mumbai's Green Lungs

Ah, the pigeons. They’re a ubiquitous sight, aren't they? Flocks descending on city squares, parks, even bustling street corners, often drawn by the generous scattering of grains from passersby. And honestly, who could blame someone for wanting to share a little kindness with a creature? It feels good, doesn't it, a small connection in our urban grind?

But here’s the rub, and it’s a rather significant one for Mumbai's vital green spaces – specifically, the precious fringes of Aarey Forest and Sanjay Gandhi National Park (SGNP). What seems like a harmless, even benevolent, act of feeding these feathered friends is, in truth, triggering an ecological chain reaction, a silent threat to the very essence of these natural havens.

You see, we're not talking about a few crumbs. Near a service road connecting the Western Express Highway to Aarey, just a stone's throw from the national park, this daily ritual has, well, ballooned. Mountains of grains are laid out, sometimes even sold right there, drawing literally thousands of pigeons. It's a spectacle, sure, but a troubling one, for these aren't the native inhabitants of a forest ecosystem.

When non-native species, like these common city pigeons, proliferate in such numbers, they inevitably upset the delicate balance. They compete directly with our indigenous birds – the smaller, shyer, and often more beautiful species that truly belong there – for food and nesting sites. Imagine a quiet forest bird, going about its day, suddenly facing off against a mob of pigeons for sustenance. It's hardly a fair fight, is it?

And the consequences don't stop there. All that uneaten grain, those copious droppings... they attract other, less welcome guests. Rodents, for instance, find a veritable feast. And where there are rodents, stray dogs often follow, creating an altogether more precarious environment. There's a real and growing concern, frankly, about the potential for zoonotic diseases – illnesses that can jump from animals to humans – especially given the sheer volume of waste and the concentration of different species.

Environmentalists, the tireless guardians of these natural spaces, have been sounding the alarm for quite some time now. People like Stalin D., who works with the NGO Vanashakti, are understandably frustrated. They point to a Supreme Court order, issued back in 2021, which explicitly prohibits feeding animals within a one-kilometre radius of national parks and wildlife sanctuaries. It's a clear directive, born from a deep understanding of ecological preservation, yet here we are.

This isn't just about stopping a kind gesture; it's about protecting something irreplaceable. Mumbai, in all its concrete sprawl, is incredibly fortunate to have these green lungs. But they are fragile, ever so fragile, and they require our mindful stewardship, not just our well-intentioned, albeit misplaced, generosity. Perhaps, for once, we need to let nature feed itself, allowing its own intricate systems to flourish undisturbed. What do you think?