Some years ago, while on an assignment to Jodhpur, I was invited to savour the wonders of a "traditional" Rajasthani thaali. My hosts, a family of modest means, laid down a vegetarian fare that could, in fact, feed a garrison. Brass utensils - they were polished like mirrors - had been brought out to bear the weight of thick bajra rotis dipped in home-made ghee, daal-baati churma, several kinds of sabzi, dal and - the pièce de résistance - a halwa made with jaggery. After the feast, I was taken to a corner of the house - it wasn't a haveli but a modern flat - to catch a glimpse of the family "jewel". Having grown up on a staple diet of Amar Chitra Katha comics and their illustrations of valorous, moustachioed Rajputs wearing crowns, I had hoped to see a ruby or two. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that the treasure lay hidden under an almirah. My host crouched down on his knees and slowly, gently - lovingly - dragged the treasure out: it turned out to be a rare, soft-shelled turtle. After putting the "jewel" back to its dark corner, I was taken back to the drawing room, where, amidst generous helpings of paan, my kind host - a Bishnoi - started telling me about the history of his community, the latter's love for animals and their adherence to the Twenty Nine Rules.

It is a pity that the Bishnois - they are a sect spread across Rajasthan, where they are the most numerous, Punjab, Uttar Pradesh and Haryana - have had to depend on the notoriety of an actor to shed light on a stimulating past. Salman Khan's recent conviction, that too for a day, for killing a blackbuck 20 years ago has turned the spotlight - once again fleetingly - on the Bishnoi community. It was a Bishnoi man, Poonam Chand, a resident of Kankani village in Jodhpur, who claimed that he had heard gunshots on that fateful night and then discovered Khan and his co-stars during an alleged hunt in Bhagoda ki Dhani. Poonam Chand lodged a complaint with the forest department, triggering a long battle of attrition between the Bishnois and their resourceful, influential opponents.

But to understand the way a Bishnoi had acted two decades ago, one must return to the doctrine of Twenty Nine Rules. Etymologically speaking, the Bishnois derive their name from this set of 29 ( bish-noi meaning twenty and nine) stipulations. Says Gurvindra Bishnoi, a senior announcer with the All India Radio in Jodhpur who has been involved in the struggle to bring Khan to justice, "Any discussion about the Bishnois must begin with the man who drafted the rules."

This man happens to be Jambeshwar, or Jambaji, the 15th-century patron saint of the Bishnoi community. Legend has it that Jambeshwar, who was born in Bikaner, established 29 tenets that the Bishnois follow till date. In honour of these directives, the Bishnois are teetotallers; they shun meat; they also reject idolatry. Among the other rules is the one that directs the community to be protectors of nature and its creations. Felling trees is a crime in the Bishnoi samaj. The killing of animals, as Khan discovered, is an equally grave sin. Among creatures, great and small, the Bishnois hold the blackbuck and the chinkara - both belong to the deer family and are protected under the Wildlife Protection Act - in reverence. (Khan is embroiled in legal cases as an accused for killing both the blackbuck and the chinkara in two separate incidents of poaching.) Mukam, some distance from Bikaner, has a temple dedicated to Jambeshwar. The shrine, Gurvindra revealed, contains the ascetic's edicts in a written format.

Sensing my incredulity about the Bishnois' fidelity to their 29 rules at a time when the law and conventions are flouted with impunity, Gurvindra and his two companions, Anurag and Shyam Bishnoi, decided that it was time for a trip. It was in Jhajiwal Dhoda, a Bishnoi village situated next to a snaking highway that leads to Jodhpur, that I discovered that some rules, even in this day and age, cannot be broken.

It was a tree - the khejri - standing tall and proud that bore evidence of the Bishnois' role as unpaid conservationists. The headman - his murki (ear studs) shone in the afternoon light - enquired whether I knew that the khejri was integral to the community's history of ecological activism. When I said I did not, he began to tell the story - the tale is almost 300 years old - the one about the Bishnois and a tree. Apparently, in 1730, the king of Jodhpur had ordered the felling of khejri trees to build a palace. The Bishnois chose to defy the regal order. The protesters were led by a woman, Amrita Devi, and her daughters, who hugged the trees: they were killed by soldiers for their insubordination. Eventually, lore has it that over 300 Bishnoi men, women and children sacrificed their lives that day in a bid to save the trees. As ordained by their guru, Jambeshwar, the Bishnois did not resort to violence during their protest. The community remains wedded to the principle of pacifism in these distinctly restive times. A plaque commemorating the valorous act of arguably India's first ecological martyrs apparently stands in Khejarli, a sleepy village and the site of the massacre. Amrita Devi was, incidentally, cited as an inspirational figure behind the Chipko Movement.

The past has strange ways of fusing with the present. The price of protecting the environment remains as steep in modern India. Poonam Chand Bishnoi, who blew the whistle on Khan's transgression, may have survived to tell his tale. But, says Poonam Chand, "Several kinds of pressure have been brought upon me in the course of these 20 years. I remained firm in my depositions to the court."

It would, however, be unfair to limit the environmentalism of the Bishnois to their role as protectors of species. The community's conservation ethic is certainly holistic. "When you visit Rajasthan, you would be able to tell whether a village belongs to the Bishnois by taking a look at the trees and the soil," suggests Gurvindra. His view cannot be dismissed easily. The Bishnois are knowledgeable about water-conservation techniques. Jhajiwal Dhoda had a water reservoir as well as verdant fields sprouting millets. The roofs of the jhopras, traditional huts that dotted the village, were made of coarse leaves.

There is another kind of price that has been extracted from the Bishnois for being guardians of nature. The Bishnois have negligible political capital in Rajasthan. By some estimates, they can influence the elections in only a handful of Assembly seats. They were enlisted in the state OBC list only in 2001. Unlike other castes, their agitation for inclusion had remained peaceful. Yet, it is not uncommon to hear whispers among competing caste groups that the Bishnoi environmentalism is merely a fig leaf to conceal the community's fledgling political ambitions. One respondent, a Meena by birth, had confided that several caste groups had been rattled by the inclusion of Bishnois in the state OBC list.

The Bishnois, admittedly, seldom challenge efforts to romanticise their activism. The truth is that they have shown a remarkable ability to adapt to change. The community evolved as agriculturalists. But the agrarian crisis has forced them to explore other means of sustenance. Today, there are Bishnoi lawyers to be found in Jodhpur's court. The community also has stakes in the transportation business.

A rose-tinted perspective on Bishnoi conservation is useful when it comes to deflecting attention from some uncomfortable, probing questions. For instance, women were far less visible, both in Jodhpur and Jhajiwal Dhoda, compared to Bishnoi men in their role as eco-warriors. This, in spite of the legacy and consequent deification of Amrita Devi. Most Bishnoi men become a tad evasive when asked for their views on this discernible contradiction. There is, however, a celebrated photograph of a Bishnoi woman nursing a fawn. But pictures can tell half a story.

But what is inspiring is the manner in which the community balances its concerns for the environment with the more material aspects of life. In Jodhpur, a number of leaders of the Bishnoi samaj had complained bitterly about the poor conviction rate when it came to poaching. They had even provided some data. Of the 640 cases registered against poachers in an 18-year period, there had, in the year 2007, been only 28 convictions.

Matters, however, are looking up a bit. Gurvindra is convinced that the conviction rate has improved. He attributes it to heightened public consciousness. The mobilisation of community resources has, evidently, been the key to raising awareness. Gurvindra was eager to share the details of this environmental master plan. He said that nearly every Bishnoi village comprises a mandal that includes the young and the old who volunteer to keep an eye out on felling and poaching. Hearteningly, the surveillance is bearing fruit. "Several other communities," Gurvindra said, "have come forward to constitute similar mandals at the grassroots, thereby creating an effective surveillance net."

Twenty years ago, this formidable net put in place by the Bishnois had caught a rather large fish. Will the catch escape the hook this time as well?

Gurvindra laughs out aloud, before adding, "We are bound by our sacred rules to catch that fish again."

The Bishnoi Bible

Highlighting some of the 29 commandments of the community

Runkh lila nahi ghave or don’t cut green trees 

Provide a common shelter for all abandoned animals so they are not slaughtered

Don’t smoke and use tobacco; don’t smoke and cultivate cannabis; don’t drink alcohol

Avoid meat and other non-vegetarian food

Don’t use the blue colour extracted from the indigo plant. Possibly because that would entail destruction of the plant

Ajar jare jeevat mare or control lust, anger, ego, greed and attachment

Be merciful

Bhajan Vishnu batayo joy. Worship Lord Vishnu and praise him always.