Shyamaar: Nature’s life-giving treasure hidden in the wetlands

The Van Panchayats of Sarmoli and Shankhdura, home to various Shymaars—are a living realm of stories, mystical beliefs, and a multitude of different species. Here, deities like Jal devi and Aeri-Aachari are believed to reside. The moisture-rich environment is home to countless species of butterflies, birds, and flora. It is also critical resource for farmers. This place is not just a natural treasure but also a testament to our cultural, biological, and economic fabric. What is the secret behind Shymaar’s magical world, and why are people from across the globe striving to preserve it? Join us on a journey to uncover its secrets from her own life experiences.

Read this story in Hindi

“Jai Ho Sem Devta!” My mother, Hema Rana’s voice still echoes in my ears every time I step towards the Sem or shyamaar (wetlands).

Before starting any work in our agricultural  fields, she would always invoke the name of Sem Devta, the local guardian of our village, Farsali (in Bageshwar district), and pray for the protection of our crops.

Around 25 years ago, when I was 15, I used to accompany my mother to our 7 farm fields localted close to the villagewetlands. Sometimes I would walk behind her along narrow trails, other times we would take the route through the village.. Along the way, we would pass terraced fields that stretched across the Himalayan mountainside, a common feature in Uttarakhand . After about a kilometre, we would finally reach our farm, where we grew rice along with bhatt (a  soya bean ) and wheat as well as  mustard.

In 2000, we faced a severe drought. Most crops were completely destroyed. During that time, my mother said, “Despite the drought, the crops in the wetland fields have survived. We’ll at least have enough grain from there to get by.”

She always used to say that without these wetlands, there would be no farming for us. As a child, I would listen to my mother’s words with one ear and let them slip out through the other.

But this year, on a sunny morning in May, a small incident forced me to reflect on her words. I had gone bird watching with some tourists in Sarmoli village in Munsiari. Our village bird guide, Trilok Rana, took us to an area where he knew we would spot various butterflies, birds, trees, and grasses. When he mentioned that we were near a wetland-those fields my childhood, those old stories, and my mother’s words came flooding back to me.

I began to wonder, had the wetlands really saved us? If it weren’t for them, would our farming and biodiversity look the way they do today? Why do the crops in the wetland fields thrive better than in other areas? What is it about the wetlands that makes them so special?

What are Wetlands and how are they formed?

My curiosity led me to Theo, a resident of Sarmoli and a person who knows about such things.

He explained, “Just as we have rivers, ponds, and streams on Earth, the shyamaar is also a life-giving natural feature on our landscape.”

Theo explained that a wetland is a type of land whose form constantly changes according to the amount of water present. When there’s more water, it becomes a pond, and when the water recedes, the soil appears. This soil is very damp and soft, often with water filled in small pits, which either comes from a surface water source or from groundwater.

In the Van Panchayats (forest councils) of my marital village, Shankhdura (where I’ve lived for the past 20 years), and the neighbouring village of Sarmoli, there’s a beautiful forest pond called Mesar Kund. About 600 meters from the kund (pond), there is a vast network of wetlands. Several  wetland patches lie  connected to each other, much like relatives bound together. These wetlands were once ponds but are gradually filling up. This filling is a natural process. As long as the flow of water in and out of the pond remains constant, the pond stays intact. But if the inflow of water into the pond decrease and soil and nutrients from decaying vegetation flows into the pond continues, , grass begins to grow, and the pond slowly transforms into a marsh.

In the higher reaches of the Himalayan landscape, natural processes like glacial movement, erosion, or avalanches create depressions in the terrain. When the snow melts, these pits get filled with cold water, forming ponds and lakes. Based on the soil type and water  level, these water bodies  can then transform into marshes and wetlands. There are many such pits near Burdgir Dhar –  the ridge above Sarmoli village, about 3 km steep climb up from Mesar Kund (at 2665 m asl)- where water accumulates. These places become drinking and resting spots for our cattle and for wild animals like the Kankad (barking deer), wild pigs and many species of birds. But if these places dry up and disappear, wild animals will either decrease in number or migrate elsewhere.

A Natural Heritage and an anchor of Life

That night, as I went to sleep, the stories I had heard about wetlands sprang up  in my dreams. I found myself walking through the wetland of our Shankhdura Van Panchayat. As soon as I stepped onto the soft soil, my foot suddenly slipped and sank into the wet mud, as if an invisible hand was pulling me down. In many spots, there were small pools of water, and in them, frog eggs floated in a translucent string-like chain. It looked as if tiny black dots were suspended in a thin, two to three-meter long transparent pipe. Among small rocks along the shyamaar, green moss had grown, and cool water flowed between these rocks through dense trees along the edges. The water was so cold that my hands froze the moment I touched it.

Around the wetland, under the shade of trees like  Kharsu and Timsu (Oak species), Utees (Alder), Buransh (Rhododendron), Pangad (Horse Chestnut), Gyae (silver berry),Chetar (Laurel), and Mehal (Wild Pear), there were stretches of of the bush like Ringaal (a type of bamboo), Bhekal (Princepia), Ghigaadu (Himalayan Firethorn), Hisalu (wild Raspberry), Kirmoli (Barberry), and a variety of other grasses.

Around me, butterflies species like the Silvery Hedge Blue, Cabbage White, Chestnut Tiger, Hill Sergeant, and the Painted Lady fluttered in abundance. As for the birds, the Eurasian Woodcock, Blue Whistling Thrush, and White-throated Laughing Thrush were all chirping joyfully. The sound of the Laughing Thrush, with its “ee-hee-ee-hee” call, truly resembled a hearty, joyful laugh.

The soil and water of the wetland were teeming with such diversity and life that it became clear to me that calling it mere mud swamp would be an injustice. Every tree, plant, butterfly, and bird here made me realize that wetlands are living treasure trove. They are not only our natural heritage but also a home to countless creatures, without whom life would be incomplete.

Apart from this, wetlands are also sources of water. The Mesar Kund feeds into the Meser Roli  (stream), which is the primary water source for our village. Pipes are laid from this stream to supply water to the villages of Sarmoli and Shankdhura. The wetland near the roli also yields good crops, as the soil is damp and fertile. This makes it not just a water source, but the very center of life.

“If wetlands didn’t exist,” I thought to myself, “the lives of these creatures and the balance of our lives would be disrupted.”

This very thought, perhaps, is what urges us to become more aware and work towards preserving it.

The Sacred Land of the Jal Devi or Water Dieties

Wetlands are also considered to the sacred ground of the goddess of water. Saraswati Devi, is 82 years old and lives in Sarmoli.

She shared, “Since my childhood, I have heard that the area where the shyamaar exists is considered to be the land of the Jal Devi (water goddess). It is also believed to be the dwelling place of the Nag Devta (Serpent God). Additionally, it is believed that the land of the Jal Devi is inhabited by Aeri (a protective other worldly wind), Aachari (a fairy or a supernatural entity), Baan (another forest dwelling supernatural entity), and Mashaan (restless wandering spiritslinked to cremation grounds around water bodies).”

Even today, villagers posit their faith in these tales. Perhaps it is this faith that has helped protect water sources and the wetlands of the region until now.

Stolen Apples and Stuck feet

My mother often used share this old saying.

 “One day, a voice from the sky said that two-legged beings should flee, as the one-legged ones would devour them.”

There was a legend in those days that one-legged beings were incredibly powerful and aimed to rule the world. To do so, they had to finish all the two-legged people from the Earth. My mother believed that if two-legged beings wanted to survive, they should seek refuge in the wetlands, where the one-legged beings would get stuck in the swamp, and the two-legged ones would be safe.

In the village, when someone walks slowly dragging their feet, people will jokingly say, “Kya baat hai, shyamaaran jaayu jash?”  (What’s going on, have you got your feet stuck in a swampy wetland?)

Deepak Pacchai, who lives in Sarmoli, shared a childhood story from a day when he  and his friend, Kaviraj Pandey,were passing by Parvati Bhakuni’s home. They spotted some bright red, juicy apples in her field.

Deepak said, “We decided we had to eat those apples. We climbed the tree. But just then, Parvati didi came outside. Before we could be caught, we ran away. In our hurry, we ended up in the shyamaar area, and both my feet sank into the swamp. I managed to pull my feet out, but one of my slippers got stuck. Terrified, I ran home barefoot. Later, with my friends’ help, we managed to retrieve the slipper.”

Trilok Rana from Shankhdura village, shared a similar story.

One cold wintery day in February, he was getting late for work and thought, “I’ll take the shortcut through the shyamaar today.”

Though the path was shorter, it was completely covered in snow. As soon as he stepped onto the shyamaar, his slowly sank into the snow and wet soil upto his knees. With great difficulty, he managed to pull his feet out. When he finally got free, he saw that his lower legs were entirely covered in the shyamaar’s sticky mud. And of course he got late to work.

Listening to these stories, I couldn’t help but laugh, but at the same time, I understood that places like the shyamaar are not just geographical features, but symbols of our cultural tales, fears, and the need to exercise caution when relating to nature around us. These folklore keep our memories  alive, teaching us generation after generation how important it is to live in harmony with nature and respect its boundaries.

The Significance of Shyamaar and the Web of Life

These days, people around the world are beginning to recognize the significance of wetlands and ponds. They have a profound impact on our lives, the structure of the earth, and the lives of animals and birds. To protect wetlands and their resources, nearly 90% of the member countries of the United Nations (UN) have adopted the Ramsar Convention—an important intergovernmental treaty. This convention provides a framework for the sustainable use of wetlands. India has also signed this agreement, making it not only a global effort but a crucial one for our country as well.

Birds from Siberia travel thousands of kilometers to the vast wetlands of Bharatpur, Rajasthan. Here, they find ample food—fish, insects, and seeds—to sustain them. When summer arrives, these birds return to Siberia. Similarly, many birds from India migrate to other countries during winter, underscoring the need for international collaboration in wetland conservation. If even one country fails to protect these vital ecosystems, it can have far-reaching consequences for the entire planet.

Wetlands sustain a delicate and intricate network of life. Small insects feed larger ones, which in turn become nourishment for birds. This interconnected food chain forms a vital ecological system that underpins the very existence of wetlands. Moss (algae) plays a foundational role in this chain, creating its food through sunlight, thanks to the chlorophyll it contains. Without sunlight, the moss would perish. If moss were to disappear, countless small organisms would lose their primary food source and also cease to exist. Without them, fish populations would dwindle, and with fewer fish, the birds and animals that rely on them for sustenance would face survival challenges. This chain of life, where one species depends on another, is nature’s way of maintaining balance—a balance wetlands are crucial to preserving.

Rainwater flows through streams, carrying algae, moss and tiny organisms along its path. As it journeys onward, the waters from the Gori valley merge into our Himalayan rivers—first joining local streams  and then flowing into the Gori, Kali, Sharda, and Ghaghra rivers, before eventually reaching the Ganga and flowing into the Indian Ocean. The nutrients essential for sustaining these rivers come from the land, with wetlands playing a pivotal role in providing this nourishment.

As this water flows on its journey, it passes through the forests of numerous Van Panchayats, nourishing the wildlife that thrives there. Occasionally, during floods or when rivers change course, the overflowing waters spread across the land, filling ponds and depressions for two to three months. These waters often carry fish into these temporary water bodies. These fish, in turn, become a vital food source for animals and birds.

For years, many creatures like frogs and fish have made wetlands their home, patiently awaiting the natural flow of water. If we try to disrupt or halt this flow—by filling depressions, obstructing water movement, or preventing the formation of algae—the entire ecological system, the intricate web of life, delicately balanced and interconnected, will suffer irreparable damage.

Progress and Destruction: The Consequences of Neglecting Wetlands

If this trend continues, as it is in many cities today, the situation could deteriorate further. Wetlands and ponds, once nature’s reservoirs for storing water and managing floods, have all but disappeared. Why? Because we chose to repurpose them to suit our needs.

People often think, “Why waste this land? Let’s fill it up and build houses instead.”

Cities sprang up where once wetlands thrived, and the natural ability of these spaces to mitigate floods has been completely lost.

Floods are a natural phenomenon andthey will continue to occur. However, wetlands and ponds act like sponges, absorbing excess water and protecting cities from submerging. Now that these spaces have been replaced with buildings, water has nowhere to go. The result? Homes and entire cities are beginning to drown.

We see images of urban flooding year after year. It is now that I understand the reason behind them. We have disrupted the natural flow of water and destroyed the spaces where it used to collect and gradually drain away—wetlands, ponds, and riverbanks. By closing off these vital pathways, we have left water with nowhere to go, forcing it to wreak havoc. This is why the severity of urban flooding has escalated so dramatically in recent times.

I learned that countries like the United States, the Netherlands, Bangladesh, China, Singapore, and Japan made similar mistakes in the past. However, they recognized the consequences and are taking corrective measures. In these nations, buidings are now being demolished, and wetlands are being restored. Governments are providing incentives and financial assistance to help people relocate, ensuring that natural water pathways remain unobstructed. These countries have realized that wetlands are not just vital from an environmental perspective but also hold immense economic value. Their now seem to understand the deep connection between wetlands and marine ecosystems, including the life cycle of fish.

Largescale urbanization in our country is still in its early stages, and ‘development’ is often equated with constructing buildings and spending money. However, it’s becoming increasingly clear that this approach is flawed. The pressing question now is: can we learn from our mistakes, or will we, too, have to pay a hefty price? This question is particularly relevant for all those places where urbanization is coming at the expense of nature.

Urbanization and Shyamar: Is Coexistence Possible?

Initially, all I knew was that wetlands existed in water-rich areas and served as a water source. But as I spent time there, I realized the profound role it plays in our lives.

On the way from the Sarmoli village to the Munsiari market, there used to be a large shyamaar below the road. A special type of plant called Baj (Acorus calamus) used to grow there. The root of this plant was used to make garlands for children, believed to protect them from colds and intestinal worms. According to our folk medicine, applying a paste made from this plant on wounds would help heal them.

Today, the shyamaar has been replaced by a playground and a Fair ground by  Johar Club (a local club), by draining and filling it up over the past 3 odd decades. The Baj plant  that once thrived there is now on the brink of disappearing. Houses have sprung up nearby, and the space for the water’s natural flow has narrowed so much that during the monsoon, it stagnates and floods people’s homes and shops. This is often dismissed as a “natural disaster.”

But the truth is that this is the result of our own negligence. Without thinking, are we not continuing to destroy natural systems for our convenience? It strikes me that we must pay attention to nature around us and understand that everything, big or small, is connected. Till the time we realize this, our problems will only continue to grow.

Hema Rawat, my mother’s saying still resonates in my ears, “Sem paine jas panip jaye!”

(“May you continue to thrive just as the waters of the wetland!”)