Before I came back to Assam in 2002 briefly, after a few short professional engagements in Bengaluru, Vizag and the Dangs district of Gujarat following my Master’s in Environmental Science in Pune, I had already developed a deep passion and research interest in sustainable ecotourism.

I would especially like to acknowledge Dr. Kumar Ghorpade, the noted entomologist, who entrusted me with helping him design a unique birding holiday package for Jungle Lodges & Resorts in Karnataka — perhaps among the first initiatives of its kind in India then. Though the programme did not eventually take off for reasons beyond our control, the experience itself proved life-changing for me. It allowed me to travel extensively across Karnataka’s major tourism circuits, study habitats closely and design potential birding trails.

That journey eventually brought me into the august company of the legendary Col. John (“Papa”) Wakefield — regarded by many as the father of ecotourism in India — who had himself learnt the ropes of ecotourism at Tiger Tops in Nepal. As a young researcher, I was both mesmerised and overwhelmed to meet such a towering personality at the old hunting lodge of the Maharaja of Mysore in Kabini, which had by then evolved into a pioneering wildlife resort.

Naturally, my fertile mind immediately began imagining what such magnificent ecotourism facilities could one day look like in Assam, still oblivious of the revolutionary work already undertaken by Achintya “Manju” Barua through WildGrass Resort in Kaziranga.

Later, while pursuing my PhD research in Kaziranga, I finally had the opportunity to visit WildGrass. I was genuinely blown away — not merely by its grandeur, but by its simplicity so deeply rooted in Assamese culture. Before me stood a true example of ecotourism, one that fulfilled every meaningful criterion of sustainability. In many ways, it surpassed even several internationally reputed facilities I had encountered by then.

In the context of Assam’s tourism landscape, Mr. Barua was unquestionably ahead of his time — a trendsetter in the truest sense. He quietly chose to pursue his passion from his beloved Kaziranga, largely away from the noise of media and, later, social media attention.

Those were days when Assam had very few tourism facilities worth mentioning beyond the basic infrastructure of Assam Tourism. While many preferred establishing facilities closer to highways or towns, Mr. Barua chose instead to create a hidden gem in a quiet village near Kaziranga, thoughtfully catering to birders, photographers and lovers of nature. In doing so, he created a niche long before niche ecotourism became fashionable.

Without making it overtly commercial, yet ensuring its financial viability, he built one of Assam’s finest models of responsible tourism. At a time when wildlife and nature tourism in Assam itself was still small and fledgling, WildGrass stood apart as a visionary example of sustainability, cultural rootedness and ecological sensitivity. The way Mr. Barua upheld

sustainability — both within and beyond WildGrass — remains a gold standard for the hospitality sector in Assam.

During my PhD research, I had observed several unsustainable trends in the region, many of which fortunately improved over the years. Yet one concern continues to remain increasingly visible — the mushrooming of hotels and resorts everywhere. Tourism growth is undoubtedly vital for the local economy, but the world has also witnessed how unmindful overtourism can eventually destroy not only ecological and social fabrics, but even the long-term economic promise of a destination itself. Mr. Barua perhaps understood this instinctively, and it reflected in the choices he made throughout his life and work.

Though Mr. Barua is no longer with us, those who truly love Assam and Kaziranga can continue to learn from his work, vision and quiet teachings.

I unfortunately never had the privilege of knowing Mr Barua closely beyond one or two occasional meetings. Yet, in some ways, I feel I understood something about the man through his son, Maan, whom I first met when he had just begun his undergraduate studies, and who has since gone on to become an accomplished academic in the field of human geography at the University of Cambridge.

Even at that young age, Maan had already earned quite a reputation in birding circles and had developed mastery over several subjects of unusual and fascinating interest. I later learnt that he had been homeschooled — and until then, I had never encountered anyone from such a background quite like him. It felt like yet another reflection of Mr. Barua’s unorthodox yet deeply thoughtful approach to life and parenting.

One memory of Maan has stayed with me vividly over the years. I was visiting Oxford sometime after he had graduated from Green Templeton College and begun his doctoral research. We met at his quarters before walking down to the famous Jericho Tavern. During our conversation, I happened to notice that his sneaker was torn near the toe and casually remarked that perhaps it was time for a new pair. His response was quiet but firm: “I am just waiting for my scholarship. I do not feel like bothering my parents for this.”

I have seen many young people of his age — both in India and abroad — but such humility, simplicity and quiet dignity remain rare. In that moment, I found myself thinking once again about his parents and the values they must have so patiently passed on to him. One could only imagine how proud they must have felt watching their child grow into such a fine and independent young man.

There is still so much more to learn from lives such as theirs.

About the author:

Dr Pranab J Patar, is an award-winning environment and sustainability expert, currently associated with the Finance Department, Govt of Assam, contributing towards building a climate resilient and clean development pathway for the state.