- Indian artist and activist Dinesh Holla has been trekking the biodiverse Western Ghats and working with Indigenous communities for more than two decades.
- Among his efforts are campaigns against hydro projects which he says threaten the region’s fragile ecosystems.
- Holla co-founded Sahyadri Sanchaya, a grassroots coalition that offers treks and builds ecological awareness.
- Holla spoke with Mongabay about his art, activism and the things that give him hope.
In India, the Western Ghats — one of the world’s biodiversity hotspots — have been subject to unchecked tourism and developmental activities, threatening the ecological richness of its endemic species and the livelihoods of forest-dwelling communities.
The Western Ghats encompass the mountain range extending from the southern tip of India to Gujarat. These mountains are rich in diverse and endemic flora and fauna and are the birthplace to more than 40 perennial rivers, including the Netravati, Sharavati, Sita, Aghanashini, Krishna, Cauvery and others. The Western Ghats — a combination of grasslands and shola forests — form an important watershed for all of Peninsular India. They are also widely popular with tourists.
“The idea of hosting tourists in resorts and homestays inside forest zones … is inherently flawed, and it’s made worse when these resorts play loud music, light campfires or even promote poaching. Shockingly, much of this happens with the Forest Department’s knowledge,” says Dinesh Holla, a grassroots activist based in Mangaluru, Karnataka.
Holla has been trekking the Western Ghats for more than two decades, where he says he has encountered unregulated poaching activities, neglect of the health and well-being of the wild animals and indifference toward children of tribal communities residing in the forest.
Infrastructure development projects like the Yettinahole Integrated Drinking Water Supply Project and Gundia Hydroelectric Project have worsened the impact of human intervention in this ecologically fragile region. In response, Holla co-founded Sahyadri Sanchaya, a coalition of grassroots activists to campaign against such projects.
While scientific research has noted the insufficient resources and ecological costs of these projects, various governments over the years have plowed forward with the projects.
Holla has been a consistent voice against exploitation of the Western Ghats through community-led activities like organising treks for graduate students to raise awareness on the importance of the Ghats and to clean up litter.
Moreover, Holla is renowned for his community-led tribal education initiative Vana Chethana, in which children of the forest-dwelling tribal communities nestled in the hamlets of the Ghats are given support to continue their studies. Over the past 17 years, Holla has worked with more than 10,000 children belonging to various Scheduled Tribe communities, sparsely populated in Karnataka’s remote villages.
According to him, tribal children know the lay of the land intimately and would be the best protectors of the forest if they had proper resources to educate themselves and be placed in the Forest Department.
In his treks over the past 17 years, Holla has been engaging actively with the tribal communities, representing their artforms (he is also an artist) and conducting various activities across Karnataka, to showcase their activities to the world.
Holla says he believes that while scientific studies and legal reforms are crucial to ecological action, visual storytelling and community engagement helps mobilise public memory.
Mongabay spoke with Holla in Kannada. The following interview has been translated and edited for brevity.
Mongabay: What key things would you like readers around the world to know about you?
Dinesh Holla: I am an artist and graphic designer based in Modankapu, a village on the fringes of the Western Ghats, not far from the coast. My work spans from line art to designing book covers, invitation cards and posters. I have also represented India at international kite festivals for more than two decades. Though I was inspired by line artist K.K. Hebbar, through every line I draw, I attempt to speak for the forests and the Indigenous communities who may not have the access to express their realities.
Mongabay: Can you recall the moment when your art first connected with the Western Ghats? How did it evolve over time?
Dinesh Holla: Becoming an artist, much like my journey into activism, was never something I planned. While doing a diploma after school, the principal noticed that I was more inclined toward art than engineering. After graduation in the late 1980s, I began working at a screen-printing studio in Mangaluru. Those days, landscape paintings were in demand, which led me to explore and photograph remote waterfalls in the Western Ghats to use as references. What started as a hobby became a regular practice. As my visits became frequent, I started noticing the extent of human interference: poaching, alcoholism — where locals and tourists leave behind glass bottles in the forests — and garbage dumping, all occurring within forest zones and in sight of the Forest Department. It was futile to request the authorities, who were often indifferent to our complaints.
This is when our trekking initiative transformed into a movement where I mobilised young university students to join us in cleaning up the Western Ghats. We called it the Pashchima Ghatta Surakshata Abhiyana, to build ecological awareness and clean up litter. In the course of these journeys, I developed relationships with forest-dwelling communities and Indigenous tribes. During one overnight camp in Biligirirangana Betta, I witnessed a tribal dance: a woman circling a fire while a man played the damami, a traditional musical instrument of the Siddi community. It looked as if lines were moving in low light. That image is etched in my memory till this day, inspiring my approach to line art. It continues to shape my work.
Mongabay: Could you describe one of your treks?
Dinesh Holla: Our team — Vanya Charana Balaga — was known for moonlight treks. Moonlight treks were usually held in the grasslands, with less of Shola forests. We were always careful not to disturb the wild animals. So, the prerequisite to be part of our treks was to ensure people do not bring plastic items and do not play loud music. We would start at around 8-9 p.m. and reach the peak by 3-4 a.m., early morning. There were times we went with a team of about 72 trekkers and there were times we were only 33 of us. But the best parts of these treks were to witness sunrise and spend the rest of the day roaming around on top of the mountains.
Mongabay: Did you always see nature as something endangered and in need of protection? What was the turning point?
Dinesh Holla: I grew up surrounded by forests; the Western Ghats were a natural extension of my life. Trekking only strengthened that bond. Around 2004, during one of our moonlight treks to Manchikallu Betta in the Charmadi Ghat, I came across a limping sambar deer [Rusa unicolor] with a bleeding leg. After examining the route of the sambar deer, I found shards of broken glass beneath a tree, left behind by people who had consumed alcohol in the forest. Attempts to alert the authorities led nowhere, with each department deflecting responsibility to another.
In another instance in Chikkamagaluru’s Kallathigiri forest, we came across a dead deer. When we informed officials, the postmortem revealed 6.5 kilograms [14.3 pounds] of plastic and parts of footwear inside the animal’s stomach. These experiences exposed how indifferent the system is to wildlife. The bureaucratic apathy and the ecological devastation it permits made me more committed to our campaigns and trails.
Mongabay: Through years of making art and traveling, what changes have you noticed in the Western Ghats — visually, culturally and ecologically?
Dinesh Holla: Tourism and the unchecked construction of resorts and homestays have significantly altered the landscape. The idea of hosting tourists inside forest zones is inherently flawed, and it’s made worse when these resorts play loud music, light campfires or even promote poaching. Shockingly, much of this happens with the Forest Department’s knowledge. In regions like Madikeri, Chikkamagaluru, Mudigere and Sakleshpur — dense forest belts — tourism infrastructure has led to road construction that disrupts water flows and damages wildlife habitats. Additionally, the Yettinahole project has exacerbated the impact of human encroachment in these ecologically fragile zones.
Mongabay: Despite consistent efforts by scientists and activists, the state is going ahead with the Yettinahole Project, which will not only disturb the ecological balance of this region but will also pose long-term challenges. What is your response to this?
Dinesh Holla: It is nothing short of an ecological and political disaster. The Western Ghats are the source of more than 40 rivers and tributaries critical to the Indian peninsular. Diverting water from one of these, Yettinahalla, under the guise of the Yettinahole Integrated Drinking Water Supply Project, is not just flawed; it’s driven by profit motives. Every year, we now witness landslides and floods in areas previously untouched by such disasters. Shiradi Ghat has become a disaster now with landslides every monsoon.
The authorities paid no heed when we protested with the help of thousands, and now we are bearing the brunt of this draconian project. They blast massive rocks using dynamite to install pipelines, creating tremors felt across 10-15 kilometers [6.2-9.3 miles], distressing both people and wildlife. The local population is offered incentives — better roads, school infrastructure, compensation — without fully bearing responsibility for the long-term impact. We have campaigned against this project for more than a decade through Sahyadri Sanchaya, supported by scientific studies from institutions like the Indian Institute of Science (IISc) and other environmentalists. We even mobilised 12,000 people in protest when the project was initiated in 2014-15. Still, the state pushed ahead, and now the entire region is bearing the cost. The protest went on till the National Green Tribunal declined to intervene as it is a ‘drinking water project.’
It must not be forgotten that the Yettinahole project is just another distorted version of the cancelled 2001 scheme for diversion of Netravathy River water, chaired by irrigation expert G.S. Paramashivaiah, which recommended diversion of water from 11 sea-flowing rivers to supply water to Kolar, Tumkur, Chikkaballapur, Ramanagara, parts of Mandya, Bangalore Urban and Rural districts. A 2015 study by scientists at IISc has shown that the Yettinahole project is bound to fail because Yettinahalla does not have sufficient water to be transported to the five parched districts — Chikkaballapura, Doddaballapura, Kolar, Ramanagara and Bengaluru Rural – which have more than 4,000 lakes. Even if they rejuvenate at least 300 lakes here, the region will have sufficient drinking water. According to the study, the water yield in Yettinahole catchment is only 9.55 TMC [thousand million cubic feet] with 5.84 TMC in demand for domestic, crop water and livestock maintenance. This project will not help the arid districts and will deprive the local communities of their right to water.
Mongabay: Is there anything else that is threatening the Western Ghats today?
Dinesh Holla: To make the existing situation worse, the government is also running the Gundia Hydroelectric Project by the Karnataka Power Corporation Limited to generate 400 MW of electricity. If they now divert Yettinahole, the waterflow is going to shrink further, failing both projects. Ultimately, the fragile ecosystem will bear the brunt of this bureaucratic defeat.
Mongabay: You work with children of tribal communities. Many activists focus on policy and legal reform. How do you see your art and involvement with the close-knit forest-dwelling communities intersecting with their work?
Dinesh Holla: I work closely with forest-dwelling tribal communities through our Vana Chethana initiative, which has been active for nearly 17 years. Many children in these communities drop out after Class 10. While scholarships exist for some tribal groups, they are often not accessible to those who need them. We try to bridge that gap by helping students continue their education. These children know the lay of the land intimately. If they are denied education, they will remain vulnerable to exploitation, like previous generations. Schools are located deep in the forest. These children have grown up with wildlife — pythons in classrooms, leopards right outside the veranda — and they know that animals do not attack unless provoked. They embody coexistence. While scientists and policy advocates serve a vital role, I believe that working with tribal children and helping them reclaim and share their traditional knowledge is a powerful form of ecological resistance. Moreover, through my art, be it line art or kite making, I represent the tribal sensibilities. I believe that visual storytelling mobilises public memory, triggering ecological action.
Mongabay: What gives you hope right now? Are there people, movements or small wins that keep you going?
Dinesh Holla: A few months ago, we lost Sukri Bommagowda, an 88-year-old woman from the Halakki tribe, who was the custodian of more than 4,000 folk songs and a strong voice against alcoholism. In our Vana Chethana program, tribal school children now sing those songs, keeping the tradition alive. There are so many inspiring individuals I’ve met in the hamlets — Suresha Siddi, who aspires to master Yakshagana, and Mankali Siddi, who once performed the traditional damami dance and is proud of this folk artform. Despite their shrinking spaces and limited platforms, these communities continue to express their traditional knowledge, only if we go to them and request them to show it to the world. Their resilience and commitment to protecting what is theirs gives me hope.
Read more: When art meets environment: In conversation with Labonie Roy [Interview]
Banner image: Dinesh Holla interacts with students while on a trek in the Western Ghats. Image by courtesy of Sahyadri Sanchaya.
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