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Reimagining Ecology through Myth: Indigenous Values and Environmental Ethics in Amitav Ghosh’s Jungle Nama

 


Reimagining Ecology through Myth: Indigenous Values and Environmental Ethics in Amitav Ghosh’s Jungle Nama

Hunjili Katharpi,

Assistant Professor,

Department of English,

B.H. College, Howly,

Barpeta,  Assam, India.

 

Abstract: In an era marked by climate crisis, environmental degradation, and the growing threat of ecological collapse, indigenous worldviews offer crucial alternatives to the exploitative mindset that often drives modern industrial civilization. Amitav Ghosh’s Jungle Nama, a verse adaptation of the Bon Bibi legend from the Sundarbans, reflects this ecological wisdom with remarkable clarity. Drawing on the cadence and imagery of Bengali folk verse, and brought to life visually through Salman Toor’s illustrations, Ghosh’s work preserves an oral tradition that has guided communities along the mangrove delta for generations. In retelling the story of Bon Bibi, the guardian spirit of the forest, Ghosh bridges myth and environmental thought, portraying the Sundarbans not as a resource to be exploited, but as a living system in which humans, animals, and spirits exist in delicate balance. His adaptation moves beyond folkloric narration to serve as an ecological fable—one that warns against greed, foregrounds mutual responsibility, and urges respect for the non-human world. This paper examines how Jungle Nama reimagines ecological knowledge through myth, showing how Ghosh draws upon Indigenous ethics to advocate for a sustained and harmonious relationship between human and environment.

Keywords: Ecology, Myth, Bon Bibi, Indigenous value, Environmental ethics

 Introduction:

In an age marked by climate crisis, environmental degradation, and ecological uncertainty, Indigenous worldviews provide essential counter-narratives to the exploitative logic of industrial modernity. Amitav Ghosh’s Jungle Nama, a verse adaptation of the Bon Bibi legend from the Sundarbans, captures this ecological ethic through its poetic and cultural sensibility. Written in the rhythmic style of Bengali folk verse and accompanied by Salman Toor’s evocative illustrations, the work revives an oral tradition that has long guided the forest-dwelling communities of the Sundarbans. By reinterpreting the Bon Bibi tale for a contemporary audience, Ghosh bridges myth and environmental thought, emphasizing coexistence, restraint, and respect for the more-than-human world. As Ghosh observes, “For the people who live in and around the forest, the story of Bon Bibi is a charter that regulates every aspect of life; the beliefs associated with it dictate how they relate to the forest and to the beings that inhabit it, especially tigers” (74). Ghosh’s narrative is not merely a retelling of a folk tale; it is an ecological allegory that confronts issues of greed, exploitation, and the moral responsibilities humans bear towards the non-human world. This paper examines how Jungle Nama reimagines ecological knowledge through myth, showing how Ghosh draws upon Indigenous ethics to advocate for a sustained and harmonious relationship between human and environment.

Reimagining Ecology through Myth

Amitav Ghosh’s Jungle Nama (2021) retells the ancient legend of Bon Bibi, the guardian spirit of the Sundarbans, in rhythmic verse that evokes both the musicality of oral storytelling and the moral gravity of sacred myth. In this verse narrative, Ghosh combines indigenous values and environmental ethics, using myth as a tool for reflecting on the forest as a living system where humans, animals, and spirits coexist in mutual dependence. As Nita Mathur notes:

The myths and images reverberate with the message of cooperation and ecological integrity among (and not between) different elements of the ecosystem. The language of the myth does not have to be understood through reasoning or argumentation but through experience and participation. It propounds restraint, concern, and control of impulses directed towards indiscriminate plundering of natural resources for one’s own benefit. (27)

Myth functions as a powerful conduit for ecological imagination, offering narratives through which humans can understand their place within natural systems. Ghosh’s adaptation of the Bon Bibi legend embeds lessons on coexistence, respect, and the moral imperatives required to live in harmony with the Sundarbans’ fragile ecosystem. Unlike modern scientific discourse, which often abstracts ecological concerns into data points, myth conveys these ideas through story, character, and moral tension. In this context, Mathur observes:

The essence of the myth lies not in the components of earth, trees, water, and woman themselves but in the infinitesimal calculus of their integration and differentiation in the processes of nature. They draw energy and vitality from the interconnection by which each one remains inseparable from others. This myth in particular is at odds with the proposition of the nature–culture divide upon which some of the most profound paradigms in anthropology (structuralism, dialectical materialism, and others) rest. In fact, the fundamental concept of nature, or prakriti, is founded on the synchrony between nature and culture. (26)

This idea finds a vivid expression in the Bon Bibi legend, which reflects precisely such an entanglement: the fate of humans, animals, and spirits is inseparable from the fate of the forest. By invoking this myth in the present, Ghosh bridges local epistemologies with global ecocritical thought, suggesting that indigenous traditions hold crucial resources for reimagining ecological ethics today. As he writes in The Great Derangement, “The climate crisis is also a crisis of culture, and thus of the imagination” (12). Jungle Nama responds to this crisis by presenting the forest not as a commodity but as a sacred space governed by moral law.

            Building on this connection between myth and ecological ethics, Jungle Nama presents the forest not as a commodity but as a sacred space governed by moral law. As Ghosh explains:

The Bon Bibi legend is a marvel of hybridity, combining Islamic, Hindu, and folk elements with such fluency that it is impossible to place the story squarely in a single faith tradition. Nor is it necessary to do so, for the central tenets of the narrative—the ideas of limiting greed and of preserving a balance between the needs of humans and those of other beings—do not belong to any one tradition: they recur frequently in the stories of forest peoples around the world. (77)

These ethical principles are not confined to the text alone but continue to live within the cultural practices of the Sundarbans’ communities. The blending of myth and ecology in Jungle Nama reveals a distinctly indigenous environmental ethic, one grounded not in abstract philosophy but in lived experience and oral tradition. In the villages of Sundarban, the legend of Bon Bibi “is regularly enacted as a stage play by travelling jatra companies. These enactments usually foreground the story of Dhona, Dukhey, and Dokkhin Rai” (74). For the people living in and around Sundarbans, recounting the story of Bon Bibi is more than a cultural ritual. It is a form of ecological practice that reinforces principles of restraint and reciprocity in a dangerous environment. The enactment of the myth continues to create a living connection between culture and ecology. In the Sundarban, invoking Bon Bibi before venturing into the forest demonstrates a strong regard for the natural world. It reminds residents that survival in the Sundarbans relies on balance, humility, and reverence for the forest and its inhabitants.

Indigenous Values and Environmental Ethics in Jungle Nama

Indian traditions have long articulated holistic views of nature, rejecting the anthropocentric binaries of Western modernity. From the Rig Veda’s hymns to rivers and Forests, to Jain and Buddhist traditions of non-violence toward all beings, to tribal Cosmologies that worship mountains, animals, and forests, indigenous Indian ethics regard nature as kin rather than resource. In this context, the Bon Bibi legend does more than preserve tradition. It prescribes a moral order where human survival is contingent upon respect for the forest’s rhythms and limits. As Ursula Heise writes, “stories, directly or indirectly, explain why we care, not just as individuals but as communities or cultures” (5). By grounding survival in humility and balance, the myth sustains a form of indigenous ecological knowledge that counters dominant narratives of conquest, extraction, and anthropocentric control. This narrative ethic is reinforced by Vandana Shiva’s broader cosmological perspective, which situates humans within an inseparable relationship with nature. She observes:

 Contemporary Western views of nature are fraught with the dichotomy, or duality, between man and woman and person and nature. In Indian cosmology, by contrast, person and nature (Purusha-Prakriti) are a duality in unity. They are inseparable complements of one another in nature, in woman, and in man. Every form of creation bears the sign of this dialectical unity, of diversity within a unifying principle, and this dialectical harmony between the male and female principles and between nature and man becomes the basis of ecological thought and action in India. (39)

This worldview finds articulation in the Bon Bibi myth, which prescribes a moral boundary in the Sundarbans. In contrast to colonial forestry, which reduced the Sundarbans to timber and revenue, Bon Bibi’s dispensation treats the forest as a living, sacred entity, where “every creature had a place, every want was met, / all needs were balanced, like the lines of a couplet” (Ghosh 6). This approach resonates with broader indigenous practices across India. As Shiva observes, “the sacred tree serves as an image of the cosmos, a symbol of the inexhaustible source of cosmic fertility . . . Sacred forests and sacred groves were created and maintained throughout India as a cultural response for their protection” (54). Just as sacred groves were protected to sustain ecological balance, Bon Bibi’s laws enforce limits on human activity, ensuring that the forest remains a space of harmony, life, and interdependence rather than a source of unbridled profit. At the center of Jungle Nama is an articulation of ecological ethics rooted in indigenous traditions. The story dramatizes how survival in the Sundarbans depends not on domination but on restraint, reciprocity, and recognition of limits. This moral ecology is personified in the figure of Bon Bibi, guardian of the forest, who ensures that neither humans nor animals transgress the boundaries necessary for balance. To maintain this balance, she drew a line, to mark a just separation:

between the forest and the realm of the human.

To Dokkhin Rai was given the jungles of the south,

 where land and water mingle at the rivers’ mouth.

No human would come there, nor could he go outside,

 he would live a life of plenty, reigning with pride.  (Ghosh 6).

 

Unlike Western narratives of domination over nature, Jungle Nama portrays Bon Bibi as both protector and disciplinarian. She embodies a feminine principle of compassion and ecological care: “Bon Bibi was strong, but full of compassion” (Ghosh 3). Yet she is also an enforcer of balance, commanding even Dokkhin Rai to submit to rules of restraint: “You must stay within your bounds and never transgress; / with what you have you must make do, don’t seek excess” (Ghosh 56). This duality resonates with ecofeminist thought, where feminine principles of care, regeneration, and restraint counteract patriarchal exploitation of nature. Bon Bibi is not merely a goddess but a lawgiver, whose “dispensation” institutionalizes ecological justice: humans may take from the forest only out of need, never greed. In reframing the ecological crisis as an ethical rather than a technical failure, Ghosh underscores how human desire drives environmental harm. Indigenous traditions, as reflected in Bon Bibi’s teaching, propose restraint as the antidote: “All you need do is be content with what you’ve got; / to be always craving more is a demon’s lot” (Ghosh 70). This ethic stands in sharp contrast to the anthropocentric logic of Dhona, the merchant whose greed drives the narrative conflict. By seeking to profit from the forest without regard for limits, Dhona represents the ethos of exploitation that defines both colonial conquest and capitalist development. Despite his prosperity, Dhona declares, “I’ll go to the mangroves; seven ships will I hire. / There’s much to be had there; I’ll take all I can see: / honey, wax, and timber, and all of it for free!” (Ghosh 10). His ambition reflects a capitalist drive for accumulation, sharply contrasting with his brother Mona’s ethic of contentment: “Life’s most splendid gift is that of contentment” (Ghosh 11). Dhona pursues wealth relentlessly, entering the Sundarbans not out of necessity but for profit. His readiness to offer Dukhey to Dokkhin Rai reveals the destructive consequences of greed: it devalues human life, fractures community bonds, and disregards the limits of the natural world.

In contrast, Dukhey embodies vulnerability, humility, and reliance on divine protection, emphasizing the themes of mercy and moral responsibility that are central to Bon Bibi’s guidance. The poor boy survives Dokkhin Rai’s attack not through strength or cleverness, but by invoking Bon Bibi with sincere faith and the correct verse: “Save me, Ma Bon Bibi, before I’m torn apart; / an unearthly tiger wants to rip out my heart” (Ghosh 53). His salvation underscores the performative role of faith in securing justice. His prayer to Bon Bibi is not merely an appeal but a ritual act aligning him with the forest’s moral order. By reenacting Dukhey’s prayer, communities retelling the story effectively rehearse their submission to ecological law. In this way, Dukhey’s survival is not only a plot resolution but also a cultural pedagogy, teaching that surviving requires humility and interdependence. Dukhey’s story also embodies an indigenous ethic of justice that protects the weak against the exploitation of the powerful. In the socio-economic context of the Sundarbans, this is particularly significant: Dukhey represents the poor villagers who risk their lives harvesting honey, wood, or fish in tiger-infested forests. The myth reassures them that divine justice operates in their favour, punishing the greedy elite (like Dhona) while safeguarding the humble poor who take only what they need. In this sense, Dukhey’s salvation underscores the performative role of faith in securing justice. His prayer to Bon Bibi is not merely an appeal; it is a ritual act that aligns him with the forest’s moral order.

By remembering and retelling the story of Dukhey, the communities living around Sundarbans invoke Dukhey’s prayer and effectively rehearse their own submission to ecological law. In this way, Dukhey’s survival serves not only as a plot resolution but also as a cultural pedagogy, teaching humility and interdependence as necessary for survival. In Jungle Nama, the forest serves as a moral agent, punishing Dhona’s greed through Dokkhin Rai’s delusions and demands. By preying on human avarice, Dokkhin Rai serves as a metaphor for humans’ insatiable desire: “He won’t just snatch you, he’ll wait for a betrayal; / whetting avarice, he can set men’s heads awhirl” (Ghosh 23). In this characterization, the tiger becomes a demonic embodiment of desire itself, feeding not merely on flesh but on moral weakness. This allegorical function distinguishes Dokkhin Rai from Western representations of wilderness predators that symbolises forest or its wild life like tiger as an untamed wilderness to be conquered by human reason and imperial power.

This moral and ecological framework extends beyond the story’s mythic setting and connects directly with contemporary debates about the Anthropocene—the proposed geological epoch in which human activity is the dominant force shaping Earth’s systems. As Dipesh Chakrabarty observes, “anthropogenic explanations of climate change spell the collapse of the age-old humanist distinction between natural history and human history” (201). By embedding ecological principles in myth, Jungle Nama functions both as literature and as environmental law, enshrining an indigenous ecological ethic that resonates deeply with the challenges of the anthropocene.

Conclusion:

Jungle Nama stands as a corrective: by returning to indigenous myth, Ghosh articulates a narrative framework that situates human beings within, rather than above, ecological systems. The relevance of Jungle Nama extends beyond the cultural and ecological history of the Sundarbans. In invoking the Bon Bibi legend in the twenty-first century, Ghosh situates myth as a vital mode of thought for confronting the Anthropocene. Yet indigenous traditions like the Bon Bibi story already embody an awareness of this entanglement: the myth insists that human survival depends on respecting ecological limits and living in balance with nonhuman beings. The Bon Bibi myth embodies precisely this collapse, dramatizing the inseparability of human survival from the forest’s rhythms, dangers, and limits. Far from being a relic of “superstition,” the myth functions as a counter to modernity’s narrative failures. Myths like that of Bon Bibi sustain imaginative frameworks that acknowledge the agency of the nonhuman world and demand humility before it. They remind us that human well-being depends on ecological reciprocity.

The Bon Bibi story holds particular significance in our time of environmental crisis, offering an alternative way to conceive the relationship between humans and the more-than-human world. As Ghosh notes, “In the Before Time, stories like this one would have been considered child-like, and thus fare for children. But today, it is increasingly clear that such stories are founded on a better understanding of the human predicament than many narratives that are considered serious and adult” (77). By retelling the legend in verse accessible to a global audience, Ghosh extends indigenous ecological wisdom beyond the Sundarbans, presenting it as a universal ethic of balance, restraint, and reverence for the nonhuman. In this sense, Jungle Nama offers not an archaic superstition but a living epistemology that anticipates the ecological humility required in the Anthropocene. Thus, in invoking the centuries-old Bon Bibi narrative for the twenty-first century, Jungle Nama reaffirms myth as a vital mode of thought for confronting the challenges of the Anthropocene.

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