Daijiworld Media Network - Bengaluru
Bengaluru, June 3: Every day, Ranganath K steers his BMTC bus along the city’s busy 242JA route between Ganakal and Shivajinagar. But once the engine cools and the passengers are gone, his other life begins—the one that has saved over 4,500 snakes from danger or death across Karnataka.
Ranganath, now 44, leads a quiet double life: bus driver by day, reptile rescuer by night. For nearly 30 years, he has been on call for everything from cobras in kitchens to rat snakes in cattle sheds—offering his help free of charge.
His journey began far from Bengaluru, in the forests of Shivamogga’s Malnad region. Back in 1996, a Class 9 student at a government school in Sagara, Ranganath joined a nature trek with 35 classmates. The trek was organised by an American family researching the local ecosystem. Terrified of even small animals then, Ranganath says the trek changed everything. “They taught us how to respect, identify, and handle reptiles. I discovered courage—and purpose—I never knew I had,” he recalls.
That spark of curiosity grew into a lifelong mission. After finishing school, Ranganath studied at Sacred Heart PU College and later at an industrial training institute. Along the way, he quietly built a reputation as someone who could be called on whenever a snake turned up where it shouldn’t. He even skipped an exam once to donate blood and save a woman’s life—one of 33 donations he’s made over the years.
But his passion came at a cost. When his family disapproved of his snake-related work, a young Ranganath left for Bengaluru with Rs 1,000 and 20 kg of rice his father had packed. There, he took whatever jobs he could find—cleaning toilets, collecting garbage—until, in 2011, he joined BMTC as a driver. He has since logged over 8 lac kilometers, earning respect from regulars who call him “Ranganna.”
Passengers know him as a no-nonsense yet kind presence behind the wheel. “I’ve driven corporators and MLAs,” he says with a smile. “But I treat everyone the same.” He firmly corrects misbehaving students and watches out for women travelling alone.
Despite the demands of his job, Ranganath never mixes his two vocations. He responds to rescue calls only after hours. In one recent case, he was bitten on the hand by a water snake he was trying to keep away from a cow. “It could have been worse. But I’ve learned how to stay calm in those moments,” he says.
There was a time when his family, concerned by omens and superstitions, begged him to stop rescuing snakes. He did—for three months. “We ran out of rice,” he remembers. “It was as if everything shut down. That’s when I realised this isn’t just a hobby. It’s a blessing.”
Ranganath charges nothing for his rescues, though he sometimes accepts a little money to cover fuel costs. He also practices traditional healing and is now passing on that knowledge to his younger son, who’s in Class 8.
His advice to anyone who encounters a snake is simple: “Stand still. Don’t run. Snakes aren’t aggressive unless threatened—they’ll usually leave if you give them time.”
Over the years, Ranganath has been honoured with several accolades, including the Kannada Seva Ratna and Kannada Rajyotsava Awards. In 2025, he travelled abroad for the first time to Malaysia to receive his second honorary doctorate, this one from the American Wisdom Peace University.
But recognition, he says, is not his goal. “I don’t want money or fame. I want people to remember me as someone who served with heart and humility.”