Ancient ecologies
Myristica swamps are rare freshwater habitats found in pockets of the Western Ghats, forming along streams in wet evergreen forests. These swamps are named after the Myristicaceae, or wild nutmeg family, which dominates the region and are dependent on monsoon rains and seasonal flooding. Globally, members of the Myristicaceae family are widespread, but these swamp forests are unique to India, adding special appeal to this biodiversity hotspot. Key species include Myristica fatua (endangered), Gymnacranthera canarica (vulnerable), and the recently discovered Semecarpus kathalekanensis (critically endangered). Wildlife like the lion-tailed macaque, Malabar pit viper, and hornbills further enhance the ecological importance of this forest wetland.
Myristica swamps provide essential ecosystem services such as flood regulation, groundwater recharge, carbon sequestration, and water filtration, supporting both biodiversity and local livelihoods. However, these ecosystems face growing threats from expanding areca nut plantations that are heavily dependent on irrigation, leading to habitat destruction and drying of swamps due to depleted surface water. Without conservation, the loss of biodiversity and ecosystem services may also erode the rich cultural traditions tied to these ancient landscapes.
A culture of conservation
Long before modern Hindu practices came to the forested landscapes of the Western Ghats, communities worshipped pre-Vedic deities in patches of sacred forests known as kans. These were relic forests, or forests that remained undisturbed across time and have retained their native floral diversity despite the spread of agriculture and land use change in the Western Ghats. Known today as sacred groves, many of these kans still hold high cultural and traditional value to communities, harkening back to a time before the rise of idol worship in temples. In Uttara Kannada, many sacred groves are found in Myristica swamps, where rituals of reverence are performed, and forest gods are believed to watch over the trees.
In these sacred groves, the elements such as water were worshipped, as were the tiger and the snake. The forest spirits were appeased for good hunting and to protect families from disease or attacks by wildlife. Goddesses were seen as benevolent providers and were thus appeased. In this way, these swamps where originally hunter-gatherer people worshipped, were maintained as sacrosanct spaces over the years, despite the land conversion to agriculture.
The rapid expansion of agriculture resulted in widespread washout of fertile topsoil, depletion of water resources, and local biodiversity loss. As forests declined, human-wildlife conflict became more pronounced. Thus, as a form of livelihood security, local communities placed stronger protections in the form of taboos and regulated practices upon their remaining sacred groves, ensuring that they would not be defiled or decreased in area. Some taboos arose with the dominance of certain castes and religious narratives that entered the landscape, creating hierarchies and changing the accessibility of sacred groves.
Restrictions for preservation
Originally managed by local landlords, these swamps were later classified as reserve forests by the British, gradually stripping local communities of their rights to use or access these sacred sites. While people could still enter to worship, their interactions with the swamps diminished as they were no longer permitted to collect medicinal or edible plants. Revered for their watershed value and biodiversity, these swamps also provided habitat for wild pepper and served as seed banks for surrounding forests.
In many pockets, local residents have maintained taboos surrounding sacred swamps. Entry is restricted out of fear of retribution from the resident deity. Footwear is forbidden, and activities that might disturb the deity, such as collecting leaf litter, hunting, or washing clothes, is considered disrespectful. Outsiders (those who do not belong to the village or, in some cases, the caste that primarily worships at that swamp), are discouraged from entering.
“People who have entered the swamp have fallen ill or even died mysteriously. Perfectly healthy people… I believe it is the god’s wish that we leave the trees and his swamp alone and be happy with whatever land we have already been given,” says Manjunatha Naik,* an areca nut farmer near the Aghanashini River.
Such taboos have been found to exist across the world. In Japan’s Aokigahara Forest, malevolent spirits are believed to curse intruders, while the Chaga people of Tanzania and certain cultures in Fiji similarly associate divine retribution with disturbing sacred forests, promoting long-term conservation through fear and respect.
The gods of the swamp
In the sacred forests of Uttara Kannada, pan-Hindu deities have little hold over the people. Important deities here include Chowdamma (water goddess), Hulidevaru (tiger god), Jatkappa and Beerlu (protector deities), Vanadevate (forest goddess), and Nagadevate (snake god). The forests of Uttara Kannada were once filled with wild animals perceived as dangerous, such as tigers, leopards, and snakes. Thus, people prayed to the tiger deity and snake deity to protect them and their families when they entered the forest to harvest natural resources or collect water. This is similar to how villagers in the Sundarbans mangrove swamp in West Bengal worship the forest goddess Bonbibi and the tiger god Dakhin Rai before entering the swamp forest to harvest honey and collect fruits. Shared cultural beliefs across India highlight the deep-rooted traditional views of forests and the strong associations between forests and humans.
Another common trend is the worship of water, a life-giving source. Deities such as Chowdamma and Vanadevate prominently feature in local narratives and are believed to be the source or purifier of stream water. According to locals, the swamp trees hold water at their roots and release water slowly during the dry summer months. This is due to Chowdamma’s benevolence, and villagers across Uttara Kannada value Myristica swamps for providing water during the summer months.
Culture vs conservation
While most swamps may not be within Wildlife Sanctuaries or National Parks, they are reserve forest under the purview of the Forest Department and are considered an important and rare forest type. However, deep-rooted cultural beliefs have proved to be a barrier to conservation efforts. In the Siddapura Forest Range, believers gatekeep the swamps, barring even the Forest Department from entering. Residents are unwilling to cooperate with the Forest Department’s ongoing efforts to conserve and restore Myristica swamps.
A young woman from a village near Siddapura Range speaks up: “Because we worship our deity with full devotion, he does not prevent us from using the water of the swamp for irrigating our crops. If he is a benevolent deity, wouldn’t he want his devotees to be healthy and able to afford to care for their children?” Such responses are commonly seen across people in the landscape, especially those who are marginalised and have stronger dependence on natural resources.
While people and nature have traditionally coexisted and benefitted from one another in the landscape of Karnataka’s Western Ghats, modern development pressures and shifting religious and cultural views also pose significant threats to sacred spaces. Land-use changes such as large-scale agriculture, deforestation, and infrastructure development increasingly clash with these local practices. For instance, expanding areca nut plantations or clearing forests for roads and dams fragment these ecosystems, disrupting not only their ecological balance but also the cultural narratives that sustain them. The economic lure of cash crops and urban expansion often overshadows indigenous conservation efforts, marginalising local communities and weakening their role as custodians of the land. As sacred spaces shrink and degrade, the cultural identity and traditional knowledge tied to them also face erosion, risking the loss of both biodiversity and the intangible cultural heritage that has preserved these landscapes for generations.
Disclaimer: The views presented in this piece are taken from interviews and multiple visits with people belonging to the landscape of Uttara Kannada that worship in and around sacred swamps. The author does not promote caste-based hierarchies and is reporting what has been mentioned during her research.
* Name changed for privacy
Edited by Sheema Mookherjee
