I’m Shuvayu Modak, a biologist with the Wildlife Trust of India, and someone who has always preferred the company of forests over phone screens. From the very beginning of my career, wandering through the wild felt natural—but telling stories about it did not.

Maybe it’s the “old-school” mindset I grew up with. My Bengali parents still believe that clicking too many photographs is a sign of moral decline. Every time I pull out my phone, they remind me: “Eto chobi tule ki hobe? Chokh diye upobhog koro!” (Why take so many photos? Enjoy it with your eyes!)

And of course, the classic: Why do you need to tell the world about your life and work?

Participants exchanging ideas and observations during the session | Photo © Madhumay Mallik/WTI

With that mentality—more myth than logic—I landed up at the communications training workshop in Manas, Assam. We began gently, simply interacting with one another and with the wonderful team at Roundglass Sustain, who spent three full days trying to bring out the dormant artist inside each of us, field biologists. As it turns out, pulling a tiger out of a bush is far easier than pulling out the artist hidden within us.

Our first assignment? “Write about the person sitting opposite you”. That’s when I realised how hard it is to actually understand someone’s story, their side of life. Listening, truly opening your ears to what others have to say, to the world around you…it takes patience.     

Then came the art of observation: staring at a completely ordinary object and somehow elevating it with words. Sounds simple, until you try it. But here’s what I truly believe: the real workshop happens between the workshops. Staying with people from across the country, sharing stories, singing songs, laughing, eating—that was the real communications training. We were communicating by simply being human together. And yes, amid all that “old-schoolness,” I discovered something shocking.

At age 28 years, 9 months, and 8 days, I had never shot a reel. Ever. But on the 9th day after the workshop began, I finally did. It may have been awkward, it may have been bizarre even—but      I did it, and I am strangely proud of it. The Roundglass team would be proud… or at least amused.

The team embarked on an early morning safari in Manas National Park | Photo © Team WTI

We wrapped up with a beautiful safari through the Manas National Park. And for once, my luck didn’t betray me—we saw all the mega-herbivores of Manas, a rarity for someone with my field luck. By the end, we were asked to write something about Manas. But what came to my mind instead was how this workshop quietly rewired a small piece of me. Maybe storytelling isn’t a distraction from conservation—maybe it’s an essential part of it.

View of the Beki River along the Indo-Bhutan border | Photo © Team WTI

So here I am, writing this. Because sometimes the forest teaches you to speak, not just observe.

Story by Shuvayu Modak, Programme Officer, Right of Passage Project, Wildlife Trust of India