You have paid rich tribute to India’s forest guards and staff. Tell us when did you first encounter and learn more about their inspiring lives. 
I cannot pinpoint any ‘first’ encounter — there have been many memorable, humbling meetings. I remember a number of these unsung green heroes, climate warriors, whom I have met, interacted with and learnt from my forays into the wilderness over the years. How many can I tell you about: the fire watcher who spends scorching summers perched on a flimsy platform some 50 feet above the ground, on a tree in Kanha Tiger Reserve to keep vigil and alert park authorities in the event of a fire; the fiercely courageous Van shramik in Sundarbans who found himself trapped in a cage with a tigress in the chaos of a rescue operation (he lived to tell the tale!), the dedicated forest guard in Corbett who wouldn’t go on leave — even to see his family — as his turf would stay unprotected,  the grieving family of a forest ranger in Chhattisgarh, who was killed by the stone mafia as he tried to protect a forest and river even in the face of death threats, the utterly inspiring ranger who has walked the forests of Dachigam (Kashmir) since the age of nine — and has risked, and devoted, his life to the park.