Mumbai The tranquillity of lush green, rain-soaked Sanjay Gandhi National Park (SGNP) in suburban Borivili belies what is in store at the Wildlife Taxidermy Centre located in its precincts.
Stepping into the not-very-modernised centre could also make you step back in alarm as a line-up of big cats greet you with snarling open mouths. Lifelike, the tiger, two lions and a leopard are surrounded by a variety of wildlife, reptiles and birds, including the endangered Great Indian Bustard and Greater Flamingo, that have been preserved in their original form for posterity.
Amid this silent congregation of wildlife stands Santosh Gaikwad, 43, India’s one and only official taxidermist, who spoke to Gulf News on how a visit to the Mumbai museum in 2003 sparked a newfound passion — taxidermy — in his life.
The Wildlife Taxidermy Centre, set up by the Maharashtra government’s Forest Department on October 1, 2009 has gained a name quickly with not just the dead wildlife collected by the Forest authorities being brought here but even pet owners seeking Gaikwad’s help.
Even as he talked, a call came from an Indian Army official in Haryana who sought his help to process an old collection of 20 tiger skins.
But first things first as Gaikwad is all keen to explain this exacting “art and science of taxidermy” and the painstaking job of over 10 stages from the time the cadaver is collected, which in fact should be done immediately, he says.
The various steps of skinning, tanning, biometry, fleshing, removal of skeleton, clay modelling, moulding with fibreglass or plaster of Paris and casting are laborious. “The final touches of fixing glass eyes, teeth, sometimes original, whiskers, tongue and nails require a thorough knowledge of anatomy and an artistic attention to detail,” he aver.
As an assistant professor of anatomy at the Bombay Veterinary College, this visit to the Natural History section at the Chhatrapati Shivaji Vastu Sanghralaya (formerly known as Prince of Wales Museum), was a fascinating experience.
He says, “I was surprised to find how the stuffed animals were anatomically perfect and skilfully preserved.” He wanted to know more. “I talked to the curator and in the course of time made futile attempts to contact taxidermists across the country. There were none.”
He said Van Ingen & Van Ingen of Mysore, taxidermists of German origin during the British era, once had a big factory with 150 labourers to process not only tigers and leopards but also bears, bison, elephants, rhinoceros and other animals.
“Their mounted hunting trophies were known for their beauty and their customers included Indian maharajas and the nobility from across the world,” Gaikwad said.
Search for information
After India’s Wildlife Protection Act, 1972 came into force and hunting was banned, the factory eventually closed down in 1999. It was an art that appeared to have died long ago but Gaikwad was not ready to give up. He talked to old-timers who had assisted the British in this art and doggedly searched the net for information.
“When the subconscious mind accepts an idea, it moves heaven and earth to bring it to pass,” he says philosophically.
From then on he started gathering knowledge on his own. “In 2005, I left my practice as a veterinary doctor when I treated mostly cats and dogs and started with taxidermy on birds, learning along the way.”
His home became the hub of his passion, much to the apprehension of his wife when dead birds wrapped in plastic had to be placed in their fridge.
“But my wife Siddhi was cooperative and when I moved to the SGNP centre, my kids would accompany me. My daughter Samruddhi, 13, and son Sarthak, 8, continue to be fascinated by my work,” he laughs.
