Up close with Chinna Thambi: a privilege and a curse

Chinna Thambi, a wild elephant who was sedated, captured and tamed in 2019 to become a camp elephant at the Anamalai Tiger Reserve in Tamil Nadu, was a crop raider during his carefree days in the Thadagam Valley on the outskirts of Coimbatore. File | Photo credit: M. Periasamy

I He had heard so much about him and his boyish charm that when the time came for me to finally meet him, I felt nervous. During the jeep ride to his temporary home, my mind kept replaying the things people had said about him: his little quirks, his love of food, and his intelligence.

I’m talking about Chinna Thambi, a wild elephant who was sedated, captured and tamed in 2019 to become a camp elephant at the Anamalai Tiger Reserve (ATR) in Tamil Nadu.

Chinna Thambi was a crop robber during his carefree days in the Thadagam Valley on the outskirts of Coimbatore. He entered human habitations with the innocence and curiosity expected of a young bull elephant—he was 25 when he was captured—and eventually grew accustomed to the villages on the edge of the forest.

I followed the story of the elephant with interest. After he was caught and sent to Varagaliyar camp in ATR, I traveled there to meet him. I wrote an article on the taming of Chinny Thambi.

For me, the best thing about being a journalist is getting access to places I wouldn’t otherwise dream of. For example, the Varagaliyar elephant camp is not open to the public. Once I got the nod from Mr. V. Ganesan, the then Field Director of ATR, I joined him during an official visit to the camp one evening, an hour before dark.

I will never forget the journey. A sturdy Forest Department jeep trudged along narrow paths that barely existed. These muddy paths were so pristine that I felt like we were clearing the leaves that were bent into our path, much like elephants move through the forests.

For the additional functionality of the abandoned elephants, I had the opportunity to closely observe the little ones and their antics. After the rescue, they were taken to Theppakadu camp in the Mudumalai Tiger Reserve, kept away from the public eye in an open enclosure. I was allowed to go a little closer to see their mahouts taking them for walks and feeding them milk through tubes.

The heavens opened when I visited the same camp one afternoon and told about the mahouts and their bond with the elephants. It was meal time and the men were mixing boiled ragi, rice, horse gram and salt into mammoth balls which were fed to the elephants. I could almost smell the chocolate balls from where I was standing. If I were an ordinary tourist, I would stand far away, behind a long wooden fence.

A journalist’s access to fascinating people and places is a privilege like no other. This approach allows us to approach the story with all five of our senses.

However, sometimes it can also lead to discomfort. For not all of these experiences are ones we would like to look back on.

As I approached the camp where Chinna Thambi was being held, my excitement was replaced by a sense of dread. I jumped out of the jeep and noticed the huge wooden enclosure he was standing in. I could already see his tail from a distance – the kraal (enclosed pen) consisted of wooden beams.

At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to run away. I didn’t want to meet Chinna Thambi. I wasn’t ready to see him like this. When the field director looked back at me, I knew I had to get out of it. I had no choice.

Mahout Chinna Thambi offered him large balls of ragi from outside. I took a step closer to the enclosure to get a better look. It was the first time I had seen a wild elephant so close. Then he pulled out a suitcase for food. I jerked back. The mahout jokingly said, “All he wants is food,” adding, “He’s almost broke; it’s only a matter of days.”

Published – 11 Sep 2026 01:09 IST