In the floodplains of Assam, the Kaziranga National Park is both a sanctuary and a corridor. It is home to over 2,400 wild buffaloes, hundreds of elephants, and nearly 2,600 of the endangered one-horned rhinoceroses, according to the latest wildlife surveys. National Highway 37 cuts through this dense and biodiverse terrain, carrying speeding trucks and passenger vehicles across an animal corridor, resulting in approximately 100 roadkill incidents annually. With climate shifts triggering heavier monsoons and erratic flooding, the boundaries between land, water, forest, and asphalt blur with each season. Local communities have long adapted to this, their resilience tested as they navigate floodwaters that reach up to six feet in some parts during the monsoon. Now, they navigate a changing topography shaped as much by policy and enforcement as by weather and wilderness.
Amid this ecological and infrastructural tension, a unit of young women, known locally as the Van Durgas (Forest Goddesses), has emerged. Tasked with patrolling the park and its fringes, their work lies at the intersection of conservation, enforcement, and community engagement. These women, mostly in their mid-twenties, operate on foot and on boats, equipped with wireless radio sets, rifles, khukris, and handheld solar-powered torches. They manage flood evacuations, chase poachers, monitor roadkill, and educate truckers and villagers about wildlife movement. Their shifts are long, and their postings remote. Their quarters are modest, often shared, and located in parts of the forest where mobile networks vanish, and the only light is the flicker of a lantern.
In a country where forest protection has historically been a male-dominated field, the presence of these women on the frontlines marks a significant shift. India remains a deeply patriarchal society where gender roles are reinforced across education, employment, and domestic life.
In rural Assam, girls often drop out of school early, and opportunities for leadership or public work are few. Many of the Van Durgas come from small towns or forest-adjacent villages. They have trained through state-supported programs, but their motivations are personal and anchored in economic needs, education, and a desire for autonomy.
In rural Assam, girls often drop out of school early, and opportunities for leadership or public work are few. Many of the Van Durgas come from small towns or forest-adjacent villages. They have trained through state-supported programs, but their motivations are personal and anchored in economic needs, education, and a desire for autonomy.
Their work extends beyond uniforms and patrol routes. They navigate community expectations, family pressures, and institutional hierarchies. Some have children waiting at home. Others are the first in their families to earn a steady income. They build informal networks of support, often sharing meals, shifts, and stories.
They form the less visible layer of forest protection, doing the daily work of holding together a system that often overlooks them, but now cannot function without them.
They form the less visible layer of forest protection, doing the daily work of holding together a system that often overlooks them, but now cannot function without them.