Meet the man who grew a forest in Kerala

Abdul Kareem does not sound happy. "No, not a coffee shop," he says, when I call him to arrange a location for our interview. "Why not the Abu Hail Park in Dubai instead?" he suggests.

I should have guessed. Greenery is his first love and if there's one place he's happy, it's surrounded by flora.

An award-winning nature-lover and the subject of several research studies, the 66-year-old is one of a handful of people anywhere in the world to have single-handedly converted a barren piece of land into a forest; in Abdul's case a 32-acre dry laterite hillside in Parappa, in his home district of Kerala, into a thick, green wooded area. Today it's a magnet not just for birds, insects and small mammals, but even scientists and eco-lovers from across the world.

The subject of documentaries by the BBC, Discovery and National Geographic, he is a speaker at conservation meets across the world.

"I can't sit indoors for long,'' says Abdul, who was recently in Dubai on a personal visit. "I love greenery, trees, nature... In fact I come to spend hours in this [Abu Hail] park every day while in the UAE - just sitting under the trees, listening to birds chirping, watching the few butterflies flitting. It's so therapeutic to breathe in clean oxygen."

Abdul has lived almost all his life in the midst of - and in tune with - nature, and the results are evident: he is sprightly and bursting with energy and optimism. "I guess it's because of the pure oxygen that I'm breathing while living in the middle of my forest in Kerala,'' he says.

The forest Abdul is referring to is his own - something he began working on more than three decades ago and which was selected by Trinity College in Hartford, Connecticut, as a model of greening to be studied.

"I've always loved trees," he says. "Even as a little boy I enjoyed spending all my free time in and around the small groves that were common around my family's house in Nileshwaram, Kerala. They offered a certain peace and tranquillity you can never experience anywhere else.''

Abdul's love for nature remained when he grew up. After completing grade 12, he set off for India's commercial capital, Mumbai, to earn a living. "I had not learnt any trade or skill as such but was willing to do anything,'' he says.

He found a job as a labourer in a private dockyard. But after spending four years there, a series of strikes and civil unrest in the state in 1969 forced him to return to Nileshwaram.

Taking a break from work, he enrolled on a short course in bookkeeping at a local private college before landing a job as an accountant in the nearby city of Kasargod.

"It was at this time that the Gulf boom began,'' says Abdul, and sensing an opportunity, he set up a travel and placement service in the city channelling workers to the UAE, Bahrain and other Gulf countries.

"But even as I was booking tickets for clients and organising their travel plans, my heart was set on creating a forest of my own. It was not born out of a dream of saving the earth or greening the countryside or any such lofty ideals,'' he says. "It was simply that I wanted to create a forest from scratch in a dry, barren area to prove that nature can be regenerated if you set your mind to it. I wanted to leave behind something that I had created for the next generation.''

So even as his business thrived, the seeds of a plan to create a forest began to take root in his mind.

"One morning in 1977 I decided to get going," he says.

Without bothering to tell even his wife Shareefa about his plans - "She would not have said no to my idea, anyway" - he put down his life's savings for a five-acre plot of land.

"The seller was more than happy when I told him I wanted to buy the land and sold it to me for Rs3,750 (Dh220),'' says Abdul, flashing a toothy grin. "It wasn't really a steal because the land was worth next to nothing as it was dry, rocky and bereft of any greenery.''

Abdul then marched off to the nearby forest department office and asked them to give him some saplings to grow on his land.

"But when they heard where I was planning to grow them, they laughed. 'You must be crazy,' they said.

"They weren't the only ones who thought I was mad. Several people in my village and a few members of the extended family too said I was stupid.''

But Abdul shrugged it off. He planted around 100 saplings the forest department gave him in the gaps between the laterite rocks and hoped they would thrive. "I knew there was not much soft soil in the area and it was very, very dry, but I watered the saplings daily and waited.''

Since there were no wells or ponds near his land, Abdul used to ferry pots of water on his motorbike from a well about two kilometres away.

"People used to laugh when they saw me riding with pots of water strapped to my bike, but I couldn't care less. In my mind, I could see my forest growing thick and green.''

But in reality the plants survived for barely a few days before withering and dying, despite all the care he gave them. "If I planted 100 saplings, one would survive but I was determined not to give up," he says.

"I went back to the forestry officials and asked for more saplings. 'Here comes the eccentric man,' they would say. But they gave me the saplings because there was a government initiative at the time to encourage the planting of trees."

Abdul repeated his experiment, but again only a few plants survived. He then decided to experiment with slightly more mature plants rather than saplings. For two years, Abdul toiled painstakingly, hoping that his efforts would bear fruit.

In the third year, nature finally relented. His plants began to take root, survive and even withstand the dry, 38C summers.

"I was not overexcited,'' he says. "I always knew in my heart that the forest of my dreams would take shape. It was only a question of time before the area would become green.''

Realising that his experiment was a success, Abdul planted as many saplings as he could on the five-acre plot of land.

"Then I did something else - in 1982, I bought 27 more acres of land. In all, I now had 32 acres of land and began planting a variety of species.

"I did not use any chemical pesticides or manure. The only thing I gave my trees was water,'' he says. "I wanted nature to take its course.''

It worked. Trees began to grow abundantly and Abdul's forest began to take shape.

Not once did he prune the trees or gather leaves. "I had set the process in motion and now I wanted nature to take over... Don't direct nature - just enable it and it will respond."

Five years later, Abdul began noticing amazing changes on his land. "There was a well on the land, which in summers would at best produce around 500 litres of water a day," he says. "But now surprisingly, even in the peak of summer, it was producing around 100,000 litres of water in a day. In monsoon season it would overflow.''

It was clear that the forest had dramatically altered the water table. "I learnt from the people who were living on the fringes of my forest that the wells near their homes had started producing more water. While their wells used to go dry during summer, now water was available all year round. That really enthused me.''

The once-barren hill was acting as a sponge, absorbing the monsoon rains. "The forest is actually producing water - highly mineralised, herbalised water,'' he says. "There are several families who live near my forest who I supply water to absolutely free of charge.''

Abdul also began setting up little watering holes throughout his forest to attract birds. "I wanted nature to take over germination and propagation of seeds," he says. That also worked, and a variety of plants and trees began to grow rapidly.

Although unlettered in the rules of eco-conservation, it was clear that Abdul had an instinctual love for forests and recognised the value of respecting and sustaining nature.

"Much impatience, discontent and violence is due to the lack of an opportunity to reconnect with our roots. If you're in tune with nature, you will come to love the world and humanity,'' he says.

Over 25 years Abdul has planted more than 800 species of plants and over 300 medicinal herbs, which he sourced from government farms and private nurseries. They are all thriving in his forest.

His efforts did not go unnoticed. In 2005, the Indian Oil Corporation - the government-owned oil and gas company - ran a series of ads featuring him and extolling Abdul as a man who has the "power to inspire a new generation".

It saluted his initiative to protect and preserve the environment and as a token of gratitude gave him a fuel station to sustain his eco-initiative.

"It was a huge thing for me,'' he says. "Now it's worth at least around Rs6 million." And in 2009 Abdul was one of 20 honoured by Limca Book of Records as People of the Year.

The forest, which is referred to in eco circles as 'Kareem's model', has now become the subject of studies by several universities across India and even further afield. "Students from as far as Estonia, Germany and the US have visited my forest to learn more about how I greened a barren rocky terrain,'' he says, smiling.

The Indian Council of Agricultural Research, the Kerala Agricultural University and the Ministry of Environment and Forests and Department of Agriculture of the Indian Government are analysing ways of replicating Abdul's efforts in similar terrain in India.

Abdul, who lives with his wife - five of his seven children are married and settled overseas, while the other two are students - in a house he built in the middle of the forest, can't imagine relocating.

"I've been approached by several builders and real estate developers wanting to purchase my forest to build a resort in its midst. But I don't want to sell it. I am sure it would be converted into a commercial enterprise and all my trees would be felled. I won't allow anybody to kill my trees - I raised them like my children,'' he says.

He is, however, open to handing part of it over to a university for research purposes.

"My only condition is that the trees should not be felled," he says. "Even when I started planting trees, I had some foresight and left some parts of the land free so buildings can be constructed.

"My dream was that my children would build their houses in the forest and could live close by.'' But they are not keen.

"I've received several awards and citations from famous personalities including Amitabh Bachchan, and the chief minister of Kerala, Oomen Chandy,'' he says.

But one of his proudest moments was when his initiative was selected by the state government as part of the curriculum for grade 6. "Children are learning about how one man can make a difference,'' he says. "I hope at least some of the children will learn how important and beneficial it is to protect and preserve the environment and keep it green."