The untold story of a little-known urban forest

For many years, I thought Kukrail was just another forest.

Of course, it was my favourite forest. I discovered Kukrail Reserve Forest in early 2013, a few months after moving to Lucknow. As a herpetologist—a scientist who studies reptiles and amphibians—I had heard of Kukrail's renowned Gharial breeding centre. Indeed, that facility does excellent work.

But the real treasures lay beyond the centre's walls. Birds were abundant, including cavity-nesting species that signify a healthy woodland. Butterflies fluttered through sun-speckled branches. That day's highlight was a Barred Wolf Snake.

Here was an oasis in Lucknow, a sanctuary with enough trees to block out traffic, smog, crowds, and noise—a place where my thoughts could speak to me again. Urbanites have precious little space for our souls, and I yearned for more.

On every subsequent visit, I detoured through the forest, and the delights increased. Peacocks pranced in the clearings, jackals played in family groups, and nilgai ghosted through the brush. Once, I spotted a Slender Worm Snake, a species previously unreported from Uttar Pradesh.

Even on days when no unusual animal appeared, I still enjoyed the afternoon breeze on my face and the sun's rays filtering through the leaves. I found soft paths for walking, fresh air for breathing, and stillness for peace of mind. Though only 20 sq km in size, the forest felt infinitely explorable.

Mottled wood owl, a large raptorial bird living in a human-dominated urban forest, indicates ecosystem functionality.

Kukrail Reserve Forest became my special place. When I needed to clear my head, I took in its trees. If a guest wanted to see Lucknow's sights, I gave a tour of the forest trails. If a local wished to learn about nature, we went for a walk in the woods.

When I heard of plans to replace much of Kukrail with tourist attractions, it brought me personal misery. Did anyone else care about its biodiversity? I had seen clusters of birders, but they might move on to another location.

 I had seen boys fishing in the nala and married couples walking the paths, but was Kukrail just as special to them? This was my spot to lose, my forest to be cut down, and who else would recognise the tragedy?

In 2023, I was photographing a skink when a group of women passed by on a nature walk. "Are you herping?" two of them asked, using the exact niche term. They introduced themselves as staff members of the Turtle Survival Alliance. Through them, I met dozens of Lucknow residents who appreciated Kukrail's unique wildlife.

They brought me to the Paryavarnam Society, formed to support nature conservation. At one meeting, wildlife conservation professional Shaariq Ashar presented on the need for surveys to assess biodiversity in Kukrail. I introduced myself and told him I had experience leading such surveys, including a multiyear effort in Sylhet's Lawachara National Park.

I didn't know if Kukrail would be our only focus, so I asked Shaariq where else in the district we could find such diversity. "There are none," he replied. "This is the best forest around."

Within weeks, I was leading a dozen members of the Paryavarnam Society on night surveys. With the blessing of Forest Department staff, we shone our flashlights into the darkness, locating calling frogs, crawling scorpions, and all manner of insects.

Kukrail Reserve Forest became my special place. When I needed to clear my head, I took in its trees. If a guest wanted to see Lucknow's sights, I gave a tour of the forest trails. If a local wished to learn about nature, we went for a walk in the woods.

The surveys were a revelation. I had not realised how much life emerged at night. We spotted Western Burrowing Frogs, Painted Globular Frogs, and Jerdon's Bullfrogs—three amphibians never before documented in this part of Uttar Pradesh. 

One night, I recorded a strange call unlike anything I had ever heard. It belonged to a White-bellied Pug-snout Frog—a species not seen within 300 km of our location.

In three months, we found 14 species of frogs, more than any previous survey in Uttar Pradesh. We also identified 14 species of snakes—a count only surpassed by the far larger and better-known protected areas such as Katerniaghat Wildlife Sanctuary. And we knew others were waiting to be discovered.

Kukrail was precious in a way no one had understood—not even me. In August 2025, our paper demonstrating Kukrail's unique biodiversity was published in Herpetological Conservation and Biology.

Frogs and snakes aren't the only creatures that make Kukrail special. We catalogued seven reptiles classified as vulnerable or worse on the IUCN (International Union for Conservation of Nature) list, including the rarely seen Yellow Monitor. We gathered records showing over 210 bird species, including five IUCN-listed eagles and eight owl species.

Although we did not conduct formal mammal surveys, incidental reports revealed many, including Spotted Deer, Indian Porcupine, Small Indian Civet, several bat species, and even a Fishing Cat. 

Painted globular frog from the Kukrail forest.

The Kukrail Nala teems with fish from a dozen families. Butterflies, spiders, flowering plants, and trees are present in significant numbers, waiting for someone with the right expertise to study them.

Will these revelations convince the government to reconsider its development plans? Will they consider the impact on wildlife when they pave over breeding pools and clear trees for restaurants? Would it not be better to make use of the ample underutilised land elsewhere in Lucknow District?

We cannot yet know what decisions they will make. Activists are pursuing cases in the Supreme Court of India and the National Green Tribunal. I pray that judges consider the frogs, snakes, birds, wild cats, and every other organism that inhabits our forest. I pray they recognise the value of clean air, peaceful paths, and the mind-cleansing power of unspoilt nature.

How many other small forests are blessing city dwellers today, yet are just one policy decision away from becoming concrete tomorrow? Unique species have been reported in the urban forests of Dhaka and Chittagong, and many more await discovery. As we become an increasingly urbanised population, we must acknowledge the biodiversity and social value of these natural spaces.

May we all reflect on the importance of our urban forests and work to preserve them before it is too late. Otherwise, each of us may live to see our private pleasure become a public loss.

JG Hakim is an educator and herpetologist who lived in Lucknow from 2012 to 2024. He published a groundbreaking study on the herpetological diversity of Lawachara National Park in 2020.