Article by Varleen Kaur

Mangrove forests thrive where land meets the sea — their tangled roots anchored in salty coastlines, their canopies sheltering life. Unlike most flowering plants, mangroves adapt to tidal rhythms and high salinity, flourishing in tropical zones where few others can survive.

These resilient ecosystems form dense, protective swamps that shield our shores, nurture biodiversity, and hold centuries of coastal wisdom in their roots.

With aerial roots descending from branches and trunks, mangroves are integral to the environment as they protect against rising sea levels and tsunami threats, reducing wave lengths by 50-90%. They also act as carbon sinks, and their destruction leads to increasing carbon dioxide levels.

The Sundarbans in West Bengal are the largest mangrove forest in the world. Rich in biodiversity and crucial for the sustenance of local communities. As such, this ecosystem has given rise to a plethora of stories to explore.

Folklore often serves as a way for communities to live in harmony with their environments. In the Sundarbans, this is especially true, where the fragile relationship between humans and tigers has given rise to a rich tapestry of stories passed down through generations.

Bonobibi, West Bengal

At the heart of these tales is the legend of Bonbibi, the forest’s revered guardian and a symbol of a symbiotic relationship between people, nature, as well as the unknown.

Amrita Sen and Jenia Mukherjee write in their essay, “Bonbibi: A Religion of the Forest in the Sundarbans,” that Bonobibi Johuranama describes the birth of Bonbibi and her brother Shah-Janguli, and their fight with Narayani, the mother of Dakshin Ray, for the possession of the mangrove forests of the Sundarbans.

Dakshin Ray, the son of a Brahmin priest called Dandabakhya and his wife Narayani Devi, was a clairvoyant who, using mythical powers, was able to assume different forms, primarily that of a tiger.

The Johuranama consists of the Dukhe Jatra (the journey of Dukhe), or a narration of the ways in which the life of a small child called “Dukhe” was saved from the hands of Dakshin Ray by Bonbibi.

Forest workers identify themselves with Dukhe before venturing inside the forests, praying to Bonbibi to safeguard them against potential threats of tiger attacks.

(Text sourced from: https://www.environmentandsociety.org/arcadia/bonbibi-religion-forest-sundarbans)

Tales from the Thillai Forest, Tamil Nadu

Another striking example of how mangrove ecosystems and folklore intertwine is the story of the ancient Thillai forest — known today as the Pichavaram mangroves, which is also the site of the Chidambaram Nataraj Temple.

Pichavaram mangrove forest lies 15 km from Chidambaram, between Vellar and Coleroon rivers, near the coast.

One of the most powerful stories tied to the Thillai forest is that of sages who came to the region, preferring it for their penance due to the impenetrability and the insularity it provided against the outside world.

To reach the blossoms that bloomed high above the swamp, one of them grew claws like a tiger, earning the name Vyagrapada — Tiger Foot.

Over time, the forest became home to many ascetics, whose growing pride in their spiritual practices turned into arrogance. To confront this, Shiva descended as Bicchadanar, a naked, ash-smeared beggar, and Vishnu took the form of Mohini, a celestial enchantress. Their presence disrupted the settlement, whereby the sages and their wives abandoned all decorum, exposing their hidden desires.

Enraged, the sages conjured fierce beings — a tiger, a serpent, and a demon — to attack Shiva. He subdued them with ease, wearing the tiger’s skin, adorning himself with the serpent, and crushing the demon beneath his feet. Then, in the forest clearing, he danced the Ananda Tandavam, a dance of creation, destruction, and grace that still echoes in the temple at Chidambaram.

Story Source: https://kaminidandapani.typepad.com/my_weblog/2024/01/a-myth-soaked-mangrove.html

From fishing to medicine, from myth to ritual, mangroves hold ancestral memory. We must honour these vital habitats and the Indigenous communities who have safeguarded them not just as forests, but as kin, keeping the eco-conscious folktales alive and thriving.

But these living archives of culture and ecology are under threat. Rising sea levels, unchecked development, pollution, and climate change are steadily eroding mangrove cover across the world. With each lost grove, we lose not only biodiversity, but stories, practices, and knowledge passed down through generations.

To protect mangroves is to protect memory, resilience, and the balance between land and sea. Their survival is entwined with our own.