Purple swamp hens wade calmly through still waters as a pied kingfisher dives toward its prey. In the background, honking traffic roars down a busy thoroughfare, and soaring glass office towers crowd the skyline. But here in the Pallikaranai marsh, a rare pocket of calm in southern India’s urban sprawl, nature holds its ground.
A stretch of wetland once buried under garbage, the marsh is quietly reclaiming its place in the ecological life of the Chennai megalopolis. Much of that is due to Jayshree Vencatesan, whose decades-long campaign has turned the forgotten swamp around. Environmental advocates say the scientist’s work could be replicated across India.
As the first Indian recipient of the Ramsar Wetland Wise Use Award – one of the highest international honors in wetland conservation – Dr. Vencatesan is a determined voice behind a movement that has reshaped how Chennai understands its water, land, and future.
Why We Wrote This
The perception of wetlands as insignificant persists among India’s policymakers and developers. This scientist is turning marshes around.
“It was hard to convince people that [the marsh] was worth saving,” she recalls. “But wetlands are not empty. They’re full of life. They’re vital to our survival.”
A lost landscape returns
Fifty years ago, Pallikaranai covered more than 5,000 hectares (about 12,350 acres). Though 1,247 hectares remain today, only about 500 to 600 are in functional marsh condition.
Sandwiched between fast-growing real estate projects and a longtime landfill, the marsh has weathered decades of urban encroachment, infrastructure development, and environmental neglect. Yet it is one of Chennai’s last natural wetlands connected to the sea – acting as a natural sponge that absorbs monsoon floodwaters, filters runoff, and releases water gradually into the city’s aquifers.
As a schoolgirl in the city of Rajahmundry on the banks of the Godavari River, Dr. Vencatesan grew up watching fishers pull out their boats and tend to their nets. Her entire family was fond of animals and nature. “My dad’s idea of success was always to be useful to society in some way, and that has become my motto, too,” she says.
Dr. Vencatesan’s doctoral studies at the University of Madras centered on the links between biodiversity and gender in the Kolli Hills in southern Tamil Nadu state. In 2000, she co-founded Care Earth Trust, a nongovernmental conservation organization.
When Dr. Vencatesan first visited Pallikaranai about two decades ago, the marsh was a dumping ground for construction debris and other waste. Kazhuveli – the Tamil word for uncultivable land – was its official classification. Armed with a rope, a compass, a pair of binoculars, and a $350 grant from the Tamil Nadu Pollution Control Board, which enforces environmental regulations in the state, Dr. Vencatesan soon began mapping the marsh with her mentor, Ranjit Daniels.
Together, the scientists documented biodiversity, tracked encroachments, and built a case for the marsh’s protection – long before wetlands became a buzzword in India’s environmental discourse.
“It wasn’t just about science,” Dr. Vencatesan says. “It was about persistence.”
This research laid the foundation for a growing conservation effort. Local women from the Thoraipakkam Ladies Club wrote letters and lobbied politicians. Civic groups and scientists created the Save Pallikaranai Marshland Forum. And after heavy floods in 2005 and 2007, state leaders started to take notice. The Tamil Nadu government soon declared a portion of the marsh a protected forest – the first major legal recognition of its significance. The Pallikaranai eco park, with walkways, opened in December 2021. The following year, the marsh was named one of 20 sites in Tamil Nadu recognized under the Ramsar Convention for their international ecological importance.
Jayanthi Murali, chair of the Tamil Nadu Pollution Control Board, says Dr. Vencatesan “is a force to reckon with.” She notes that 25 years ago, “no one was aware of what wetlands meant and why they should be conserved. … I am full of admiration at what [Dr. Vencatesan] and her team have achieved.”
S. Kumaraja, who lives near the marsh and helped organize the Save Pallikaranai Marshland Forum, says that Dr. Vencatesan helped mobilize public action to preserve the marsh – an effort as important as the work of NGOs and government agencies. “We have formed human chains and even gone on short fasts to protest against the deterioration of the marsh,” Mr. Kumaraja says. “What has been achieved so far is thanks to [Dr. Vencatesan’s] vision and hard work.”
Today, Pallikaranai teems with life. More than 115 species of birds, including migratory waterfowl along the Central Asian Flyway, have been recorded in the marshland. There are also 10 kinds of mammals, 21 kinds of reptiles, and 46 species of fish. Endemic grasses sway in the breeze, and the landscape that once seemed doomed is finding its rhythm again.
Care Earth Trust has been instrumental in this transformation. Since its inception, the organization has collaborated with government agencies to restore 44 wetlands across Tamil Nadu. Thirteen are now designated Ramsar sites.
Dr. Vencatesan’s team members, most of them women, continue the painstaking work of restoration, advocacy, and education. “Science doesn’t always need high-end equipment,” Dr. Vencatesan says. “It needs humility, trust, and time.”
A long road ahead
Despite the ongoing work, threats remain. The Perungudi landfill continues to spill waste near the marsh. Chennai’s sewage treatment infrastructure is still inadequate, so parts of the wetland receive untreated discharge. Real estate prices for the land surrounding the marsh keep rising, bringing more development. The perception of wetlands as environmentally insignificant persists among policymakers and developers.
As Chennai continues to grow, its resilience may well depend on ecosystems like Pallikaranai. The floods of 2015 were a stark reminder: Engineered solutions alone cannot protect a city that has drained away its natural buffers.
Every winter, during the Margazhi Bird Festival, amateur photographers and birdwatchers gather at Pallikaranai to witness the migratory visitors – flashes of wings over water. For a short while, the city recedes, and the marsh remembers what it once was.
So does Dr. Vencatesan.
“You don’t do this kind of work for praise or awards,” she says quietly. “You do it because the land matters. Because someone has to care.”
