“Mana Ulachal”: Ecological Change, Cultural Transition, and Generational Expressions of Distress among Indigenous Communities of the Nilgiris, India

“Mana Ulachal”: Ecological Change, Cultural Transition, and Generational Expressions of Distress among Indigenous Communities of the Nilgiris, India | Research Square window.SnipcartSettings = { analytics: { enabled: false } }; (function() { var accessVector = localStorage.getItem('access_vector') || ''; window.dataLayer = window.dataLayer || []; if (accessVector) { window.dataLayer.push({ user: { profile: { profileInfo: { snid: accessVector } } } }); } })(); (function(w,d,s,l,i){w[l]=w[l]||[];w[l].push({'gtm.start':new Date().getTime(),event:'gtm.js'});var f=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0],j=d.createElement(s),dl=l!='dataLayer'?'&l='+l:'';j.async=true;j.src='https://www.googletagmanager.com/gtm.js?id='+i+dl;f.parentNode.insertBefore(j,f);})(window,document,'script','dataLayer','GTM-K279D39R'); Browse Preprints In Review Journals COVID-19 Preprints AJE Video Bytes Research Tools Research Promotion AJE Professional Editing AJE Rubriq About Preprint Platform In Review Editorial Policies Our Team Advisory Board Help Center Sign In Submit a Preprint Cite Share Download PDF Research Article “Mana Ulachal”: Ecological Change, Cultural Transition, and Generational Expressions of Distress among Indigenous Communities of the Nilgiris, India Geetha K Veliah, Padma Venkatasubramanian This is a preprint; it has not been peer reviewed by a journal. https://doi.org/ 10.21203/rs.3.rs-8693886/v1 This work is licensed under a CC BY 4.0 License Status: Posted Version 1 posted You are reading this latest preprint version Abstract Background: Indigenous wellbeing is deeply connected to land, livelihood, and cultural continuity, yet rapid ecological and social transformations are reshaping how distress is experienced and expressed. In the Nilgiri Hills of South India, Indigenous communities increasingly use the Tamil phrase mana ulachal to describe states of mental strain or inner disturbance. This study examines how mana ulachal functions as a culturally situated expression of distress emerging from changing relationships between environment, economy, and generational life. Methods: An exploratory qualitative study was conducted across six Indigenous settlements in the Nilgiri Hills. Forty-nine participants representing elder (≥ 50 years) and younger (18–50 years) generations were recruited using purposive and snowball sampling. Data were collected through conversational in-depth interviews and ethnographic observation between 2022 and 2023. Interviews were conducted in Tamil and local tribal languages with translation support. Transcripts and field notes were analyzed using inductive thematic analysis and constant comparison to identify recurring patterns in how mana ulachal was understood and experienced. Results: Nine interconnected pathways of evolving distress were identified: ecological displacement from forests; transition to cash economies; land leasing and monoculture landscapes; debt and microfinance pressures; gendered burdens of responsibility; the education and aspiration paradox; loss of cultivation and traditional foods; tourism-related commodification; and erosion of generational knowledge. Elders primarily linked mana ulachal to ecological loss and cultural discontinuity, while younger participants emphasized economic pressures, education-related dissonance, and changing aspirations. Across pathways, distress was framed as relational — arising when balance between land, livelihood, identity, and community was disrupted. Discussion: Findings position mana ulachal as a relational idiom of distress that connects emotional experience to ecological change, market integration, governance structures, and generational transition. Rather than reflecting an individual mental disorder, mana ulachal articulates the psychosocial consequences of living through rapid environmental and cultural transformation. The study underscores the importance of culturally grounded frameworks that recognize land-based relationships, social roles, and knowledge continuity as central to Indigenous wellbeing. Conclusion: Mana ulachal offers insight into how Indigenous communities in the Nilgiris experience and communicate distress amid ongoing ecological and social change. Addressing such distress requires approaches that extend beyond individual clinical models to include cultural continuity, livelihood security, respectful tourism, and support for intergenerational knowledge systems. Indigenous wellbeing idioms of distress ecological change cultural continuity Nilgiri tribes mana ulachal qualitative research generational change Figures Figure 1 Introduction The Nilgiri Hills of southern India are home to multiple Indigenous communities whose lifeways have historically been organized around close relationships with forests, pastoralism, and ecologically grounded knowledge systems (Mandelbaum, 1982 ; Dudley, 2003). Within these contexts, wellbeing has traditionally been understood as relational and ecological — emerging from balance between people, land, animals, and community rather than as an individual psychological state (Kirmayer et al., 2021 ). Post-Independence transformations have altered these ecological and social rhythms through land-use change, forest governance, market integration, schooling, and mobility. These shifts have reshaped not only material livelihoods but also how distress is experienced, interpreted, and communicated within communities (Kirmayer, 2019 ; Albrecht, 2020 ). Emotional strain, in this context, is closely tied to perceived disruptions in relationships between people, place, and collective life. During fieldwork in the Nilgiris, the Tamil phrase mana ulachal emerged as a locally used expression referring to mental strain, agitation, or inner disturbance. In interviews, the phrase functioned as a familiar, non-clinical, and socially accessible way for participants to describe distress. Although Tamil is not the mother tongue of most Nilgiri tribes, it serves as a regional lingua franca in schools, health services, and administrative interactions, and therefore shaped how emotional experiences were articulated in multilingual settings (Zvelebil, 1985 ). Within our fieldwork context, mana ulachal operated not as an Indigenous diagnostic category but as a conversational expression that communities adopted to communicate distress linked to land, kinship, livelihood, and generational change. This use of a shared regional phrase reflects how emotional life is mediated through available linguistic and cultural resources. Anthropological work on idioms of distress shows that communities often express suffering through culturally meaningful, everyday language rather than biomedical categories, allowing personal experience to be linked to collective and structural conditions (Kaiser et al., 2015 ; Georgaca, 2014 ; Kirmayer, 2019 ). In the Nilgiris, mana ulachal demonstrated a similar interpretive flexibility, enabling participants to translate ecological disruption, social comparison, and livelihood insecurity into emotionally resonant terms. Two contemporary forces were frequently described as intensifying these experiences of strain: expanding media exposure and growing tourism. Media introduced new standards of consumption, appearance, and success, shaping aspirations and social comparison. Tourism altered land use, increased outside presence, and disrupted ecological and ritual rhythms tied to place. Together, these processes contributed to rapid social change that participants associated with feelings of restlessness, dissatisfaction, and emotional unease. Such patterns align with broader research showing that modernization, commodification, and environmental change can reshape collective identities and emotional landscapes in Indigenous settings (Cohen, 2019 ; Kirmayer et al., 2021 ; Kirmayer, 2019 ). Against this backdrop, mana ulachal can be understood as an emergent, relational expression of distress shaped by ecological instability, cultural transformation, and the reorganization of social life in the Nilgiris. Rather than representing an individual mental disorder, it reflects a collective experience embedded in changing relationships between land, livelihood, and identity (Albrecht, 2020 ; Kirmayer et al., 2021 ; Czyzewski, 2011 ). Examining mana ulachal therefore offers insight into how emotional life is experienced and expressed at the intersection of environmental change, cultural continuity, and generational transition. Methods Study Design and Setting This study employed an exploratory qualitative design to examine culturally grounded expressions of distress among Indigenous communities in the Nilgiri Hills of Tamil Nadu, India (Creswell, 2013 ). The Nilgiris are a montane region of the Western Ghats characterized by ecological diversity, including shola forests, grasslands, and agricultural landscapes. Indigenous communities in the region have historically maintained livelihoods closely tied to forest use, pastoralism, and subsistence cultivation, though these relationships have been reshaped by colonial and post-Independence land governance, conservation policies, and integration into market economies (Mandelbaum, 1941 , 1982 ). Fieldwork was conducted across six tribal settlements representing variation in altitude, proximity to forests, and degree of exposure to tourism and urban influence. This heterogeneity allowed the study to capture a range of ecological and social contexts in which experiences of mana ulachal were articulated. The study was designed as exploratory because limited prior research has examined locally meaningful expressions of mental strain across multiple Nilgiri tribal communities, necessitating an open-ended, inductive approach (Creswell, 2013 ; Kaiser et al., 2015 ; Kirmayer et al., 2021 ). Ethnographic observation was combined with conversational, in-depth interviews to enable contextualized understanding of everyday life, social relationships, and environmental settings in which emotional experiences were discussed (Hammersley & Atkinson, 2007 ; Kvale & Brinkmann, 2009 ). Participants A total of 49 participants took part in the study. To explore generational differences in experiences of distress, participants were divided into two age groups: elders aged 50 years and above (n = 24) and younger adults aged 18–50 years (n = 25). The age cut-off was selected to capture individuals who had lived through major phases of post-Independence ecological, educational, and economic change in the Nilgiris, allowing for a life-course perspective on generational shifts in wellbeing (Elder et al., 2016 ). Including varied age groups enabled comparison of how mana ulachal was understood and experienced across generations. Participants belonged to Indigenous communities classified as Particularly Vulnerable Tribal Groups (PVTGs) in the Nilgiris by the Ministry of Tribal Affairs, Government of India. This administrative category recognizes communities characterized by small population size, relative geographic isolation, and distinct socio-cultural systems (Ministry of Tribal Affairs; Minz, 2020 ). Recruitment followed purposive and snowball sampling strategies. Initial participants were identified through trusted community mediators, and additional participants were recruited through referrals, allowing access to information-rich cases and socially connected networks (Patton, 2015 ; Noy, 2008 ). Sampling prioritized diversity across tribes, gender, and ecological exposure to capture variation in livelihood patterns, environmental relationships, and generational experiences (Patton, 2015 ). Data Collection Data were collected through semi-structured, conversational interviews and participant observation between January 2022 and October 2023. Interviews were conducted in Tamil or local tribal languages, with translation support provided when necessary. Tamil functioned as a bridge language across communities, though participants frequently incorporated terms from their own languages when discussing culturally specific concepts. Observations and detailed contextual field notes were maintained throughout fieldwork to document social interactions, environmental settings, and researcher reflections (Hammersley & Atkinson, 2007 ; Emerson et al., 2011 ). Interviews were conducted one-on-one, typically in participants’ homes or nearby communal spaces. In several settlements, conversations also took place in or near shola grasslands—ecologically significant montane landscapes of the Western Ghats that have been increasingly affected by land-use change and conservation restrictions (Chatterjee, 2024 ). Each settlement was visited at least twice during the study period, allowing opportunities for follow-up conversations and deeper contextual understanding of local social and ecological dynamics (Hammersley & Atkinson, 2007 ). Interviews ranged in duration from approximately 30 minutes to two hours, depending on participant availability and comfort. Interview prompts were open-ended and designed to elicit participants’ own understandings of strain, worry, and change. Questions included prompts such as, “When do you feel strain of mind?” and “How did earlier generations handle worry or hardship?” These questions encouraged participants to describe experiences of mana ulachal in relation to everyday life, land, family, work, and generational shifts. Reflexivity and Ethics Researcher positionality was explicitly acknowledged throughout the study. As an urban public health researcher working in Indigenous settings, the author maintained reflexive journals to examine how background, assumptions, and social position might shape interactions, interpretation, and analysis (Finlay, 2002 ; Hammersley & Atkinson, 2007 ). Ethical procedures adhered to the principles of the Declaration of Helsinki (World Medical Association, 2013 ). Due to literacy considerations in some communities, written consent was not always feasible. Instead, verbal informed consent was obtained and audio-recorded at the beginning of each interview after explaining the study purpose, confidentiality measures, and participants’ right to withdraw (Orb et al., 2001 ; World Health Organization, 2011 ). In addition to individual consent, permission was sought from village elders and community leaders in accordance with local cultural protocols. Such community-level engagement is recognized as an important ethical practice in research involving Indigenous populations (CIOMS, 2016 ). Pseudonyms are used throughout the manuscript to ensure confidentiality. Data Analysis Audio recordings were transcribed and, where necessary, translated into English. Analysis followed an inductive thematic approach, allowing patterns and meanings to emerge from participants’ narratives rather than being imposed a priori (Braun & Clarke, 2006 ). Initial coding involved close, line-by-line reading of transcripts to identify recurring concepts and expressions related to mana ulachal and experiences of change. Codes were then compared across participants, tribes, and age groups using a constant comparative method to identify similarities and differences in how distress was described (Glaser & Strauss, 1967 ; Charmaz, 2006 ). Through iterative discussions with community mediators and repeated engagement with field notes, codes were clustered into broader thematic categories reflecting ecological, economic, relational, and generational dimensions of distress (Hammersley & Atkinson, 2007 ). Finally, themes were synthesized into a conceptual framework linking environmental transformation, cultural change, and emotional experience. This interpretive synthesis aimed to situate mana ulachal within broader social and ecological processes shaping wellbeing in the Nilgiris (Braun & Clarke, 2006 ; Creswell, 2013 ). Results Overview of Thematic Findings Thematic analysis revealed nine interconnected pathways through which respondents described evolving experiences of mana ulachal . These pathways were grounded in shifts related to land, kinship, labour, livelihood security, and generational knowledge. Although each pathway reflects a distinct domain of change, participants’ narratives showed that these experiences were deeply interconnected and mutually reinforcing. Elders most often located distress in ecological loss, declining cultivation, and the erosion of collective practices tied to land and ritual continuity. Younger adults, by contrast, more frequently emphasized pressures linked to education, wage labor, social comparison, and aspirations shaped by media exposure. Together, these narratives clustered into three broad domains: Ecological and Land-Based , Economic and Work-Based , and Cultural and Generational transformations. Across domains, respondents described mana ulachal not as an isolated mental state but as a relational experience emerging from disruptions in social and ecological balance (Kirmayer, 2019 ; Kirmayer et al., 2021 ). The structure of these findings is illustrated in Fig. 1 (not shown here), which maps how environmental change, market integration, media exposure, and tourism intersect to generate the nine pathways of distress described below. Pathway 1: Ecological Displacement Many respondents described emotional discomfort linked to displacement from forest environments and restricted access to landscapes that had previously structured daily life. Participants frequently spoke of the forest not merely as a resource base but as a source of identity, belonging, and spiritual continuity. Separation from forest spaces was therefore experienced as a profound relational loss. Several elders recalled earlier periods when movement through forests, gathering, hunting, and ritual use of specific sites formed an integral part of life. Restrictions on forest access, conservation regulations, and land-use changes were described as gradually narrowing these relationships. Respondents framed this shift as a form of ecological and cultural dislocation rather than simply a change in occupation. A 40-year-old Kattunayakan participant explained: The forest is everything to us. It is where we learned, where we lived, where we prayed. Now we cannot go freely. Staying away makes me feel disconnected and disturbed. Such accounts illustrate how emotional strain was tied to changes in access and autonomy rather than to individual psychological factors alone. Participants emphasized that the forest had historically structured knowledge transmission, food gathering, social interaction, and ritual practice. When these relationships were disrupted, they described a lingering sense of incompleteness and unease, which they identified as mana ulachal . These narratives resonate with Indigenous wellbeing frameworks that position land as central to identity, continuity, and emotional balance (Kirmayer et al., 2021 ). They also reflect broader patterns in which environmental governance and conservation policies, even when framed as protective, can reshape Indigenous relationships with place and generate psychosocial strain (Czyzewski, 2011 ; Bose, 2019 ). In this context, mana ulachal emerged as an emotional expression of ecological displacement — a feeling of being out of place in landscapes that once anchored collective life. Pathway 2: Cash Economies and Wage Labour A second major pathway through which participants described mana ulachal was the transition from subsistence-oriented livelihoods toward wage labor and cash-based economies. Respondents across age groups reflected on how this shift had altered social relationships, values, and everyday rhythms of life. Elders frequently contrasted earlier systems of exchange, mutual aid, and shared subsistence with contemporary patterns of individual earning and spending. They described the past as a time when barter, shared labor, and collective food production fostered a sense of interdependence and sufficiency. In contrast, the increasing importance of cash income was associated with heightened comparison, competition, and a constant sense of “not having enough.” One elder explained: Before, we worked together and shared what we had. Now everyone thinks about money. If one family buys something, others feel they must also buy. This brings worry. Younger participants echoed these concerns but described them through the lens of emerging aspirations. Wage labor was often necessary to support schooling, healthcare, and consumer needs, yet it also introduced new forms of instability. Seasonal employment, irregular income, and dependence on external markets created uncertainty about the future. Participants linked this insecurity to feelings of restlessness, sleeplessness, and ongoing mental strain. Several respondents emphasized that wage labor frequently required travel away from the village or long hours in plantation or construction work, reducing time for communal activities and traditional practices. This shift was described as weakening collective bonds and increasing individual burden. As one young man noted: We go out to work all day. There is no time to sit together, no time to go to the forest. Life feels rushed, and the mind is always thinking about money. These accounts illustrate how monetization of livelihood was experienced not only as economic change but also as a transformation in social life and emotional orientation. The move toward wage labor introduced new expectations, comparisons, and dependencies that participants associated with persistent worry and dissatisfaction. Such experiences align with broader scholarship showing that market integration can reshape social relations and produce psychosocial strain when traditional systems of reciprocity and collective security are disrupted (Kirmayer, 2019 ; Czyzewski, 2011 ). In this context, mana ulachal emerged as an emotional expression of the pressures and uncertainties accompanying the shift from subsistence and shared livelihoods toward individualized, cash-dependent ways of living. Pathway 3: Land Leasing, Plantations, and Monoculture Change Participants also linked experiences of mana ulachal to visible transformations in the landscape, particularly the expansion of monoculture plantations and the leasing of land for commercial agriculture. These changes were described as replacing diverse, multi-use forest and cultivation areas with uniform tea or other plantation crops, altering both ecological balance and cultural relationships to land. Elders in particular recalled earlier landscapes characterized by mixed vegetation, forest produce, medicinal plants, and small-scale cultivation that supported subsistence needs. The transition to monoculture plantations was perceived as narrowing ecological diversity and limiting access to forest-based resources. Respondents emphasized that these landscapes had once functioned as living environments where knowledge, stories, and skills were transmitted across generations. A Kurumba participant reflected: Earlier, we knew every plant, every path. Now there is only tea. The land looks green, but it is not our land in the same way. Participants described monoculture not only as environmental simplification but as a loss of familiarity and meaning. The disappearance of diverse plant species and gathering spaces disrupted everyday practices such as collecting fuelwood, wild foods, and medicinal herbs. This was experienced as a break in continuity between past and present ways of living. Several respondents associated these landscape changes with feelings of disorientation and emotional unease. They noted that while plantations provided wage labor, they also represented a form of land transformation that reduced autonomy and connection to ancestral practices. The visual and functional change in the environment thus became a reminder of broader social shifts away from land-based knowledge and self-reliance. These narratives reflect the intertwined ecological and cultural consequences of land-use change in the Nilgiris. Historical and ongoing processes of plantation expansion have reshaped montane ecosystems of the Western Ghats, replacing biodiverse forest-grassland mosaics with commercially managed landscapes (Mandelbaum, 1982 ; Chatterjee, 2024 ). For participants, such transformations were not abstract environmental issues but lived experiences that altered daily routines, knowledge systems, and emotional ties to place. In this context, mana ulachal captured the sense of loss and unsettledness associated with living in landscapes that looked familiar yet felt fundamentally changed — ecologically simplified spaces that no longer supported the same relationships between people, plants, animals, and memory. Pathway 4: Debt, Microfinance, and Financial Worry A fourth pathway through which participants described mana ulachal was the growing presence of debt and microfinance schemes in village life. While access to loans was sometimes seen as enabling households to meet immediate needs—such as education expenses, healthcare costs, or housing improvements—many respondents emphasized the persistent anxiety associated with repayment obligations. Participants described loan repayment as a continuous mental burden that shaped daily routines and sleep patterns. Rather than being a one-time financial event, debt was experienced as an ongoing presence in the background of everyday life. Several respondents spoke of waking at night thinking about upcoming payments or feeling pressured to accept additional work to avoid default. A middle-aged woman explained: Even when I finish my work, my mind does not rest. I keep thinking about the loan. If we miss one payment, they will come and ask. That worry stays inside. Women, in particular, described carrying a disproportionate share of responsibility for managing household finances and ensuring that repayments were made on time. Participation in self-help groups and microfinance collectives often placed women at the center of borrowing and repayment processes, which participants linked to heightened emotional strain when income was uncertain. Some respondents described feeling embarrassed or ashamed when unable to meet expected payments, further intensifying stress. Men also reported financial worry but often framed it in relation to irregular wage labor, seasonal employment, and pressure to meet emerging material expectations. Financial insecurity was described as eroding a sense of control and increasing irritability, tension within households, and feelings of inadequacy. These experiences reflect broader patterns in which microfinance and household debt, while intended to promote economic inclusion, can also generate psychosocial stress, particularly when income streams are unstable and social accountability mechanisms are strong (Taylor, 2022 ). In the Nilgiri context, debt was not described merely as an economic issue but as an emotional state characterized by constant worry, rumination, and fear of social consequences. Within participants’ narratives, mana ulachal captured this enduring financial unease — a mental restlessness tied to obligations that could not easily be set aside and that reshaped both household dynamics and personal wellbeing. Pathway 5: Gendered Patterns of Distress Participants described mana ulachal as taking gendered forms shaped by changing labor roles, income patterns, and expectations within households. Women and men spoke about distress differently, reflecting unequal burdens and shifting responsibilities in the context of economic and social change. Women frequently described carrying a disproportionate share of domestic work alongside income-generating activities. Many were involved in self-help groups, wage labor, or small-scale trading, while also remaining responsible for childcare, cooking, water collection, and care of elderly family members. This “double burden” was described as leaving little time for rest, contributing to physical exhaustion and persistent mental strain. One woman explained: From morning to night there is work. Even if I sit down, my mind is not quiet because I am thinking of what is still left to do. Several women linked their distress to limited control over household finances despite contributing labor. They described frustration when earnings were insufficient to meet rising expenses related to schooling, healthcare, and consumer goods. Feelings of responsibility without authority were frequently associated with worry, irritability, and a sense of being overwhelmed. Men’s experiences of mana ulachal were often described in relation to employment instability and shifting expectations around masculinity and provision. Younger men in particular spoke of pressure to earn cash income, build houses, and support extended families, while facing irregular work and low wages. Some described withdrawing socially or experiencing frustration when unable to meet perceived responsibilities. Participants also noted that men’s distress was sometimes expressed indirectly, including through irritability, silence, or increased alcohol consumption. These behaviors were interpreted by family members as signs of internal strain rather than simply personal failings. These gendered patterns reflect broader structural shifts in which market integration and livelihood transitions reshape household labor divisions and intensify burdens on women while simultaneously destabilizing men’s roles as providers (Taylor, 2022 ). They also align with research showing that economic precarity and changing gender norms can influence how distress is experienced and expressed in marginalized communities (Czyzewski, 2011 ). Within these narratives, mana ulachal functioned as a shared term that encompassed both women’s chronic overload and men’s frustration and withdrawal, highlighting how emotional strain is embedded in gendered social roles rather than confined to individual psychology. Pathway 6: The Education and Aspiration Paradox Education emerged as a pathway that simultaneously expanded opportunities and generated new forms of emotional strain. Participants across generations valued schooling for its potential to provide employment, mobility, and social recognition. However, they also described education as producing a sense of dislocation, particularly among younger people navigating expectations that differed sharply from village life. Younger adults frequently spoke of feeling “in between” worlds — connected to their communities but increasingly oriented toward urban employment, formal qualifications, and consumer aspirations shaped by schooling and media. This liminal position was described as emotionally demanding. Several participants noted that while education raised hopes for upward mobility, limited job opportunities and discrimination often left youth feeling uncertain and dissatisfied. One young participant explained: We study and we learn many things, but after that we don’t know where we belong. In the village, people say we have changed. Outside, they don’t accept us fully. That makes the mind restless. Elders expressed ambivalence about schooling. While acknowledging its practical importance, they worried that formal education did not adequately transmit ecological knowledge, ritual practices, or community values. Some felt that younger generations were losing familiarity with forests, cultivation, and customary responsibilities. This perceived weakening of intergenerational knowledge exchange was described as a source of emotional unease for both elders and youth. Participants also linked education to rising material aspirations. Exposure to new lifestyles through schooling and media led some young people to compare their lives with urban peers, intensifying feelings of inadequacy when opportunities did not match expectations. In this way, schooling became associated not only with hope but also with pressure and self-doubt. These experiences align with broader research on Indigenous education contexts, where formal schooling can produce both empowerment and cultural disconnection when curricula and institutional structures are not aligned with local knowledge systems and lifeways (Kirmayer et al., 2021 ). They also reflect the psychosocial strain that can accompany aspiration under conditions of structural inequality and limited economic mobility (Kirmayer, 2019 ). Within participants’ narratives, mana ulachal captured this paradoxical emotional terrain — the tension between hope and uncertainty, belonging and displacement, that accompanied educational change and shifting generational futures. Pathway 7: Loss of Cultivation and Land-Based Food Practices Participants also linked mana ulachal to the decline of traditional cultivation practices and reduced engagement with land-based food systems. Elders in particular described earlier periods when households grew millets, tubers, greens, and other local crops, supplementing forest foods and creating a sense of self-reliance tied to land and seasonal rhythms. The gradual reduction of cultivation was experienced as both a material and emotional loss. Several respondents attributed this shift to shrinking access to cultivable land, changing rainfall patterns, wildlife conflict, and the increasing need to prioritize wage labor over farming. As cultivation declined, households became more dependent on purchased foods. Participants described this transition as altering not only diet but also daily routines, knowledge transmission, and the embodied experience of working with soil. One elder reflected: Before, we ate what we grew. We knew the taste of our land. Now we buy from the shop. The body feels different, and the mind is not satisfied. Growing food was frequently described as a source of pride, strength, and continuity with ancestors. When younger generations no longer participated in cultivation, elders worried that important skills and relationships with land were being lost. Participants associated this break in continuity with feelings of sadness, frustration, and a sense that life had become more uncertain and dependent on external systems. Younger participants acknowledged these concerns but also noted the practical challenges of sustaining cultivation alongside schooling and wage labor. Some described a desire to maintain small kitchen gardens or revive traditional crops but felt constrained by time, land availability, and market pressures. These narratives highlight how food practices are deeply intertwined with identity, memory, and wellbeing. Research in Indigenous contexts shows that land-based food systems contribute not only to nutrition but also to cultural continuity and emotional resilience, while their erosion can generate distress linked to environmental and social change (Kirmayer et al., 2021 ; Albrecht, 2020 ). In this context, mana ulachal emerged as an expression of the unsettledness associated with losing direct relationships with land through cultivation — a feeling that nourishment, knowledge, and belonging were becoming increasingly mediated by markets rather than grounded in place. Pathway 8: Tourism and Commodification Participants described tourism as an intrusive and ambivalent presence in their communities. While some acknowledged limited economic benefits — particularly for the Todas through the sale of embroidered products — many felt that tourism primarily brought constant visibility without corresponding respect or meaningful return. Being watched, photographed, and treated as culturally “exotic” was described as emotionally unsettling, especially for elders. A middle-aged Kurumba participant remarked: Earlier we saw tourists only during season. Now they are here throughout the year. We feel like we are always being looked at. Participants emphasized that tourism altered the social atmosphere of settlements. What were once private or community-oriented spaces became sites of external curiosity. Elders in particular expressed discomfort with being observed during daily routines or ritual activities, feeling that sacred or intimate aspects of life were being reduced to spectacle. This persistent visibility was associated with feelings of irritation, unease, and a desire for withdrawal — experiences participants identified as mana ulachal. At the same time, generational differences emerged. Younger participants were more likely to view tourism pragmatically, as a possible source of income or exposure, while older participants tended to see it as disruptive to cultural rhythms and dignity. This divergence itself became a source of tension within communities. These accounts reflect broader research showing that tourism in Indigenous regions can produce commodification of culture and a sense of objectification, particularly when community control over representation and benefits is limited (Cohen, 2019 ). In the Nilgiri context, tourism was not simply an economic activity but an ongoing social presence that reshaped how communities experienced privacy, identity, and belonging. Within this setting, mana ulachal captured the emotional strain of living under continuous external gaze. Pathway 9: Erosion of Generational Wisdom The final pathway described by participants concerned the erosion of generational knowledge systems. Elders consistently framed knowledge as something learned through embodied practice — through forest work involving medicinal plants, ritual participation, craft traditions, and seasonal cultivation. These forms of knowledge were described as central to identity, dignity, and continuity. A Kota priest expressed this concern: Young people do not have time to learn about our forests and our smithing skills. Participants explained that younger generations, shaped by formal education, wage labor, and media exposure, had less time and sometimes less interest in learning traditional skills. Ritual practices had been shortened or simplified, forest-based knowledge was not consistently passed down, and seasonal agricultural practices were no longer widely shared. Elders described this as a painful rupture in continuity, leading to feelings of irrelevance, loss, and emotional disturbance. Some acknowledged that adaptation was necessary and that certain practices had always evolved. However, they distinguished between adaptation and erosion, emphasizing that current changes felt too rapid and externally driven. Media exposure and schooling were frequently mentioned as pulling youth away from village life, while elders felt their knowledge was undervalued. These narratives resonate with research highlighting the role of cultural continuity and intergenerational knowledge transmission in Indigenous wellbeing (Kirmayer et al., 2021 ). When these processes weaken, communities may experience not only cultural loss but also emotional strain tied to disrupted identity and purpose. In the Nilgiris, mana ulachal became a way for elders to describe the distress associated with witnessing the fading of knowledge that once anchored community life. Discussion This study positions mana ulachal as a relational and socially embedded expression of distress that emerges from cumulative ecological, economic, cultural, and generational transformations in the Nilgiris. Rather than describing an individual psychological condition, participants used mana ulachal to articulate unease linked to displacement from forests, monetization of livelihoods, landscape change, debt pressures, gendered burdens, educational dissonance, loss of cultivation, intrusive tourism, and erosion of intergenerational knowledge. Across these domains, distress was framed as arising when long-standing relationships between people, land, work, and community became unsettled. This aligns with Indigenous wellbeing perspectives that understand emotional life as inseparable from ecological and social balance (Kirmayer et al., 2021 ; Kirmayer, 2019 ). Generational contrasts were central to how mana ulachal was described. Elders most often located distress in ecological displacement, loss of cultivation, tourism intrusion, and erosion of generational wisdom — all tied to weakening continuity with land and tradition. Younger adults more frequently emphasized pressures linked to education, wage labor, material comparison, and changing aspirations. These patterns reflect how historical time and life-course position shape emotional experience, with different generations encountering social change at distinct stages of life and responsibility (Elder et al., 2016 ). Mana ulachal therefore functioned as a bridge term through which multiple generations expressed different, but interconnected, forms of strain. The findings also highlight how structural and governance-related processes are lived emotionally at the community level. Forest access restrictions, plantation expansion, market integration, microfinance penetration, and state-led education systems were not described in policy terms but through their effects on everyday relationships, autonomy, and dignity. Participants did not separate “development” from emotional life; instead, they experienced these processes as altering the conditions under which meaningful living was possible. This interpretation resonates with scholarship that frames colonial and postcolonial governance, economic restructuring, and land regulation as enduring social determinants of Indigenous wellbeing (Czyzewski, 2011 ; Bose, 2019 ). Environmental change was consistently described not only as ecological transformation but as emotional disturbance. Monoculture landscapes, reduced forest access, and shifts away from cultivation were experienced as losses of familiarity, knowledge, and belonging. Such accounts echo emerging work on ecological distress, which recognizes emotional responses to environmental disruption as legitimate dimensions of health (Albrecht, 2020 ). In the Nilgiri context, mana ulachal captured a localized articulation of this phenomenon, where environmental instability reverberated through identity, livelihood, and memory. Language played a crucial role in shaping how distress became speakable. As a Tamil conversational phrase rather than an Indigenous diagnostic category, mana ulachal provided a socially accessible way to discuss emotional strain without invoking biomedical labels. Its flexibility allowed participants to connect personal feelings with collective change, illustrating how idioms of distress operate as cultural tools that translate structural pressures into everyday emotional language (Kaiser et al., 2015 ; Georgaca, 2014 ). In this sense, mana ulachal functioned not as a symptom category but as an interpretive bridge between lived experience and broader social transformation. These findings carry implications for mental health practice and policy in Indigenous contexts. Interventions focused solely on individual symptoms risk overlooking the relational and ecological dimensions of distress described here. Participants’ narratives suggest that wellbeing is tied to land access, livelihood security, cultural continuity, and intergenerational relationships. Approaches that support community-based initiatives, culturally relevant education, sustainable livelihood options, and respectful engagement with tourism may therefore be as important as clinical services in addressing emotional strain (Kirmayer et al., 2021 ; Whitmee et al., 2015 ). Methodologically, this study demonstrates the value of beginning with locally meaningful expressions rather than imposing external diagnostic frameworks. Working through mana ulachal enabled participants to articulate layered experiences of change in their own terms, revealing connections between environment, economy, culture, and emotion that might otherwise remain obscured. This supports qualitative approaches that treat everyday language as a gateway into socially embedded understandings of wellbeing (Braun & Clarke, 2006 ; Kaiser et al., 2015 ). Several limitations should be noted. The study focused on a limited number of settlements and participants and does not claim statistical representativeness. Use of Tamil as a bridge language may have shaped how distress was expressed, and translation processes may not have captured all nuances embedded in tribal languages. As with all qualitative research, findings reflect interpretive engagement rather than generalizable measurement (Creswell, 2013 ; Hammersley & Atkinson, 2007 ). Nevertheless, the study provides a detailed account of how emotional life is experienced within ongoing ecological and social transition in the Nilgiris. Conclusion This study presents mana ulachal as a culturally situated expression of distress that emerges from intertwined ecological, economic, cultural, and generational changes in the Nilgiris. Participants did not describe distress as an isolated psychological condition but as a relational experience arising when connections to land, livelihood, community roles, and intergenerational continuity became unsettled. Through narratives of ecological displacement, monetization of daily life, monoculture landscapes, debt pressures, gendered burdens, educational dissonance, declining cultivation, intrusive tourism, and the erosion of generational knowledge, mana ulachal captured the emotional texture of living through rapid social transformation. By foregrounding a locally meaningful idiom, the study highlights how emotional life in Indigenous contexts is embedded in relationships between people, place, and collective history. Mana ulachal functioned as a shared language through which participants translated structural and environmental change into everyday emotional experience. Recognizing such expressions broadens understandings of mental health beyond individual symptom frameworks and toward relational, ecological, and cultural determinants of wellbeing. These findings suggest that responses to distress in Indigenous settings must move beyond narrowly biomedical models to engage with land access, livelihood security, cultural continuity, and intergenerational knowledge systems. Attending to these dimensions is essential not only for supporting emotional wellbeing but also for sustaining the social and ecological foundations of community life in the Nilgiris. Declarations Ethics approval and consent to participate This study was conducted in accordance with the ethical principles of the Declaration of Helsinki. Ethical approval was obtained from the Institutional Ethics Committee of SRM Medical College Hospital Faculty Institutional Ethics Committee (Approval No: 2912/IEC/20215.6.2.2). Due to varying literacy levels among participants, written consent was not always feasible; therefore, verbal informed consent was obtained and audio-recorded prior to interviews. In addition to individual consent, permission to conduct the study was sought from village elders and community leaders in accordance with local cultural protocols. Consent for publication Participants provided informed consent for the use of anonymized quotations in publications and presentations. No identifying personal information is included in this manuscript. Availability of data and materials The datasets generated and analyzed during the current study are not publicly available due to the sensitive nature of the qualitative data and the need to protect participant confidentiality, particularly within small Indigenous communities. De-identified excerpts may be made available from the corresponding author on reasonable request, subject to ethical approval and community permissions. Competing interests The authors declare that they have no competing interests. Funding This research did not receive any specific grant from funding agencies in the public, commercial, or not-for-profit sectors. Authors’ contributions GV conceived the study, conducted fieldwork, performed data analysis, and drafted the manuscript. PV contributed to study design, provided academic supervision, and critically revised the manuscript for important intellectual content. Both authors read and approved the final manuscript. Acknowledgements The authors express deep gratitude to the Indigenous communities of the Nilgiri Hills who generously shared their time, knowledge, and experiences. Appreciation is also extended to local community mediators who facilitated fieldwork and to academic colleagues who provided guidance during the research process. Use of AI tools: The authors used a large language model (LLM) to assist with language editing and manuscript structuring. All interpretations, analyses, and conclusions are solely those of the authors. References Albrecht, G. (2020). Earth emotions: New words for a new world . Cornell University Press. Bansal, V., Jagadisan, S., & Sen, J. (2023). Understanding the urbanization induced issues in mountainous ecosystems of India: A comparative study between Nilgiris (Tamil Nadu) and Lower Himalayas (Uttarakhand), India. In Understanding soils of mountainous landscapes (pp. 303–323). Elsevier. Bose, P. (2019). Forest rights, governance, and indigenous livelihoods in India. Land Use Policy, 81 , 72–82. Braun, V., & Clarke, V. (2006). Using thematic analysis in psychology. Qualitative Research in Psychology, 3 (2), 77–101. Charmaz, K. (2006). Constructing grounded theory: A practical guide through qualitative analysis . Sage. Chatterjee, R. (2024). A UNESCO World Heritage Site: The alluring montane forests and grasslands of the Western Ghats of peninsular India. ZOO’s Print, 39 (11), 1–5. CIOMS. (2016). International ethical guidelines for health-related research involving humans . Council for International Organizations of Medical Sciences. Cohen, E. (2019). Authenticity and commodification in tourism. Annals of Tourism Research, 76 , 1–12. Creswell, J. W. (2013). Qualitative inquiry and research design: Choosing among five approaches (3rd ed.). Sage. Czyzewski, K. (2011). Colonialism as a broader social determinant of health. International Indigenous Policy Journal, 2 (1), 1–14. Elder, G. H., Johnson, M. K., & Crosnoe, R. (2016). The emergence and development of life course theory. In J. T. Mortimer & M. J. Shanahan (Eds.), Handbook of the life course (pp. 3–19). Springer. Emerson, R. M., Fretz, R. I., & Shaw, L. L. (2011). Writing ethnographic fieldnotes (2nd ed.). University of Chicago Press. Finlay, L. (2002). Negotiating the swamp: The opportunity and challenge of reflexivity in research practice. Qualitative Research, 2 (2), 209–230. Georgaca, E. (2014). Discourse analytic research on mental distress: A critical overview. Journal of Mental Health, 23 (2), 55–61. Glaser, B., & Strauss, A. (1967). The discovery of grounded theory: Strategies for qualitative research . Aldine. Hammersley, M., & Atkinson, P. (2007). Ethnography: Principles in practice (3rd ed.). Routledge. Kaiser, B. N., Haroz, E. E., Kohrt, B. A., Bolton, P. A., Bass, J. K., & Hinton, D. E. (2015). “Thinking too much”: A systematic review of a common idiom of distress. Social Science & Medicine, 147 , 170–183. Kirmayer, L. J. (2019). Toward an ecosocial psychiatry. World Psychiatry, 18 (2), 131–132. Kirmayer, L. J., Dandeneau, S., Marshall, E., Phillips, M. K., & Williamson, K. J. (2021). Reconnecting the mind and land: Indigenous wellbeing and the relational self. Transcultural Psychiatry, 58 (4), 1–19. Kvale, S., & Brinkmann, S. (2009). InterViews: Learning the craft of qualitative research interviewing (2nd ed.). Sage. Mandelbaum, D. G. (1941). Culture change among the Nilgiri tribes. American Anthropologist, 43 (1), 19–26. Mandelbaum, D. G. (1982). The Nilgiris as a region. Economic and Political Weekly, 17 (36), 1459–1467. Ministry of Tribal Affairs, Government of India. (n.d.). Particularly Vulnerable Tribal Groups (PVTGs). Government of India. Minz, S. K. (2020). Tribal development policies in India: Its implications and prospects. Mukt Shabd Journal, 9 (5), 818–829. Noy, C. (2008). Sampling knowledge: The hermeneutics of snowball sampling in qualitative research. International Journal of Social Research Methodology, 11 (4), 327–344. Orb, A., Eisenhauer, L., & Wynaden, D. (2001). Ethics in qualitative research. Journal of Nursing Scholarship, 33 (1), 93–96. Patton, M. Q. (2015). Qualitative research & evaluation methods (4th ed.). Sage. Taylor, M. (2022). The moral economy of microfinance and women’s debt. Development and Change, 53 (1), 45–67. Whitmee, S., Haines, A., Beyrer, C., Boltz, F., Capon, A. G., Ferreira de Souza Dias, B., … Yach, D. (2015). Safeguarding human health in the Anthropocene epoch: Report of The Rockefeller Foundation–Lancet Commission on planetary health. The Lancet, 386 (10007), 1973–2028. World Health Organization. (2011). Standards and operational guidance for ethics review of health-related research with human participants . WHO. World Medical Association. (2013). Declaration of Helsinki: Ethical principles for medical research involving human subjects. JAMA, 310 (20), 2191–2194. Zvelebil, K. V. (1985). The body in Nilgiri tribal languages: A contribution to areal linguistic studies. Journal of the American Oriental Society, 105 (4), 653–674. Additional Declarations No competing interests reported. Cite Share Download PDF Status: Posted Version 1 posted You are reading this latest preprint version Research Square lets you share your work early, gain feedback from the community, and start making changes to your manuscript prior to peer review in a journal. As a division of Research Square Company, we’re committed to making research communication faster, fairer, and more useful. We do this by developing innovative software and high quality services for the global research community. Our growing team is made up of researchers and industry professionals working together to solve the most critical problems facing scientific publishing. Also discoverable on Platform About Our Team In Review Editorial Policies Advisory Board Help Center Resources Author Services Accessibility API Access RSS feed Manage Cookie Preferences © Research Square 2026 | ISSN 2693-5015 (online) Privacy Policy Terms of Service Do Not Sell My Personal Information {"props":{"pageProps":{"initialData":{"identity":"rs-8693886","acceptedTermsAndConditions":true,"allowDirectSubmit":true,"archivedVersions":[],"articleType":"Research Article","associatedPublications":[],"authors":[{"id":580969470,"identity":"26994db9-c25b-4211-852d-e1647f4224eb","order_by":0,"name":"Geetha K Veliah","email":"data:image/png;base64,iVBORw0KGgoAAAANSUhEUgAAAZAAAAAyAQMAAABI0h/eAAAABlBMVEX///8AAABVwtN+AAAACXBIWXMAAA7EAAAOxAGVKw4bAAAA7klEQVRIiWNgGAWjYJACZiCWAzEOMEDJAwR0MDYDCWOI4gQStCQ2gNkJDITVy7s3H39cUHM4ff7s04kHf/5gkOO7kcB4uACPFsMzxxKbZxw7nLvhXO6GwzwJDMaSNxIYDs/Ap2VGjmEzD1ta7gYe3g2HgQ5L3ADSwoNPy/z3H5t5/qWly/fwbjj4I4GhnqAWeQkexmbeNpsEhjO8Gw4AHZZgQEiLAU+a4WzePhvDDUAth3nSJAxnnnnYgN+W9sMPPvN8k5AHOmzzxx82NvJ8x5MPf8ZrywFUvgQQMzbg0QC0Bb/0KBgFo2AUjAIgAADKclM+rtqwAwAAAABJRU5ErkJggg==","orcid":"","institution":"SRM Institute of Science and Technology","correspondingAuthor":true,"prefix":"","firstName":"Geetha","middleName":"K","lastName":"Veliah","suffix":""},{"id":580969471,"identity":"f10b18b6-3180-41f6-a841-a652acfe99ad","order_by":1,"name":"Padma Venkatasubramanian","email":"","orcid":"","institution":"University of Petroleum and Energy Studies","correspondingAuthor":false,"prefix":"","firstName":"Padma","middleName":"","lastName":"Venkatasubramanian","suffix":""}],"badges":[],"createdAt":"2026-01-25 16:54:21","currentVersionCode":1,"declarations":"","doi":"10.21203/rs.3.rs-8693886/v1","doiUrl":"https://doi.org/10.21203/rs.3.rs-8693886/v1","draftVersion":[],"editorialEvents":[],"editorialNote":"","failedWorkflow":false,"files":[{"id":101365671,"identity":"3723a3a4-60d0-42bb-9c7b-9c1c4731d070","added_by":"auto","created_at":"2026-01-29 00:57:02","extension":"png","order_by":1,"title":"Figure 1","display":"","copyAsset":false,"role":"figure","size":683544,"visible":true,"origin":"","legend":"\u003cp\u003eIllustrates how the upstream determinants of media exposure and tourism drive social change in everyday life, which, in turn, manifests through nine pathways grouped into three domains. Together, these pathways create relational–ecological imbalances that culminate in \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e","description":"","filename":"1.png","url":"https://assets-eu.researchsquare.com/files/rs-8693886/v1/aaa4229b57f87edb3fe02fa8.png"},{"id":101753632,"identity":"88ea1a24-76a6-46bf-b752-6494d536c6cd","added_by":"auto","created_at":"2026-02-03 10:40:23","extension":"pdf","order_by":0,"title":"","display":"","copyAsset":false,"role":"manuscript-pdf","size":1618513,"visible":true,"origin":"","legend":"","description":"","filename":"manuscript.pdf","url":"https://assets-eu.researchsquare.com/files/rs-8693886/v1/a144e6d3-7334-454f-b332-3a464259a5e7.pdf"}],"financialInterests":"No competing interests reported.","formattedTitle":"“Mana Ulachal”: Ecological Change, Cultural Transition, and Generational Expressions of Distress among Indigenous Communities of the Nilgiris, India","fulltext":[{"header":"Introduction","content":"\u003cp\u003eThe Nilgiri Hills of southern India are home to multiple Indigenous communities whose lifeways have historically been organized around close relationships with forests, pastoralism, and ecologically grounded knowledge systems (Mandelbaum, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR22\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e1982\u003c/span\u003e; Dudley, 2003). Within these contexts, wellbeing has traditionally been understood as relational and ecological — emerging from balance between people, land, animals, and community rather than as an individual psychological state (Kirmayer et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR19\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2021\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003ePost-Independence transformations have altered these ecological and social rhythms through land-use change, forest governance, market integration, schooling, and mobility. These shifts have reshaped not only material livelihoods but also how distress is experienced, interpreted, and communicated within communities (Kirmayer, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR18\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2019\u003c/span\u003e; Albrecht, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR1\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2020\u003c/span\u003e). Emotional strain, in this context, is closely tied to perceived disruptions in relationships between people, place, and collective life.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eDuring fieldwork in the Nilgiris, the Tamil phrase \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e emerged as a locally used expression referring to mental strain, agitation, or inner disturbance. In interviews, the phrase functioned as a familiar, non-clinical, and socially accessible way for participants to describe distress. Although Tamil is not the mother tongue of most Nilgiri tribes, it serves as a regional lingua franca in schools, health services, and administrative interactions, and therefore shaped how emotional experiences were articulated in multilingual settings (Zvelebil, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR32\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e1985\u003c/span\u003e). Within our fieldwork context, \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e operated not as an Indigenous diagnostic category but as a conversational expression that communities adopted to communicate distress linked to land, kinship, livelihood, and generational change.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e This use of a shared regional phrase reflects how emotional life is mediated through available linguistic and cultural resources. Anthropological work on idioms of distress shows that communities often express suffering through culturally meaningful, everyday language rather than biomedical categories, allowing personal experience to be linked to collective and structural conditions (Kaiser et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR17\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2015\u003c/span\u003e; Georgaca, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR14\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2014\u003c/span\u003e; Kirmayer, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR18\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2019\u003c/span\u003e). In the Nilgiris, \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e demonstrated a similar interpretive flexibility, enabling participants to translate ecological disruption, social comparison, and livelihood insecurity into emotionally resonant terms.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eTwo contemporary forces were frequently described as intensifying these experiences of strain: expanding media exposure and growing tourism. Media introduced new standards of consumption, appearance, and success, shaping aspirations and social comparison. Tourism altered land use, increased outside presence, and disrupted ecological and ritual rhythms tied to place. Together, these processes contributed to rapid social change that participants associated with feelings of restlessness, dissatisfaction, and emotional unease. Such patterns align with broader research showing that modernization, commodification, and environmental change can reshape collective identities and emotional landscapes in Indigenous settings (Cohen, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR8\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2019\u003c/span\u003e; Kirmayer et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR19\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2021\u003c/span\u003e; Kirmayer, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR18\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2019\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eAgainst this backdrop, \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e can be understood as an emergent, relational expression of distress shaped by ecological instability, cultural transformation, and the reorganization of social life in the Nilgiris. Rather than representing an individual mental disorder, it reflects a collective experience embedded in changing relationships between land, livelihood, and identity (Albrecht, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR1\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2020\u003c/span\u003e; Kirmayer et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR19\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2021\u003c/span\u003e; Czyzewski, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR10\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2011\u003c/span\u003e). Examining \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e therefore offers insight into how emotional life is experienced and expressed at the intersection of environmental change, cultural continuity, and generational transition.\u003c/p\u003e "},{"header":"Methods","content":"\u003cp\u003eStudy Design and Setting\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThis study employed an exploratory qualitative design to examine culturally grounded expressions of distress among Indigenous communities in the Nilgiri Hills of Tamil Nadu, India (Creswell, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR9\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2013\u003c/span\u003e). The Nilgiris are a montane region of the Western Ghats characterized by ecological diversity, including shola forests, grasslands, and agricultural landscapes. Indigenous communities in the region have historically maintained livelihoods closely tied to forest use, pastoralism, and subsistence cultivation, though these relationships have been reshaped by colonial and post-Independence land governance, conservation policies, and integration into market economies (Mandelbaum, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR21\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e1941\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR22\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e1982\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFieldwork was conducted across six tribal settlements representing variation in altitude, proximity to forests, and degree of exposure to tourism and urban influence. This heterogeneity allowed the study to capture a range of ecological and social contexts in which experiences of mana ulachal were articulated. The study was designed as exploratory because limited prior research has examined locally meaningful expressions of mental strain across multiple Nilgiri tribal communities, necessitating an open-ended, inductive approach (Creswell, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR9\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2013\u003c/span\u003e; Kaiser et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR17\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2015\u003c/span\u003e; Kirmayer et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR19\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2021\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eEthnographic observation was combined with conversational, in-depth interviews to enable contextualized understanding of everyday life, social relationships, and environmental settings in which emotional experiences were discussed (Hammersley \u0026amp; Atkinson, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR16\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2007\u003c/span\u003e; Kvale \u0026amp; Brinkmann, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR20\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2009\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eParticipants\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eA total of 49 participants took part in the study. To explore generational differences in experiences of distress, participants were divided into two age groups: elders aged 50 years and above (n = 24) and younger adults aged 18–50 years (n = 25). The age cut-off was selected to capture individuals who had lived through major phases of post-Independence ecological, educational, and economic change in the Nilgiris, allowing for a life-course perspective on generational shifts in wellbeing (Elder et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR11\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2016\u003c/span\u003e). Including varied age groups enabled comparison of how mana ulachal was understood and experienced across generations.\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eParticipants belonged to Indigenous communities classified as Particularly Vulnerable Tribal Groups (PVTGs) in the Nilgiris by the Ministry of Tribal Affairs, Government of India. This administrative category recognizes communities characterized by small population size, relative geographic isolation, and distinct socio-cultural systems (Ministry of Tribal Affairs; Minz, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR24\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2020\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eRecruitment followed purposive and snowball sampling strategies. Initial participants were identified through trusted community mediators, and additional participants were recruited through referrals, allowing access to information-rich cases and socially connected networks (Patton, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR27\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2015\u003c/span\u003e; Noy, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR25\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2008\u003c/span\u003e). Sampling prioritized diversity across tribes, gender, and ecological exposure to capture variation in livelihood patterns, environmental relationships, and generational experiences (Patton, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR27\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2015\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eData Collection\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eData were collected through semi-structured, conversational interviews and participant observation between January 2022 and October 2023. Interviews were conducted in Tamil or local tribal languages, with translation support provided when necessary. Tamil functioned as a bridge language across communities, though participants frequently incorporated terms from their own languages when discussing culturally specific concepts.\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eObservations and detailed contextual field notes were maintained throughout fieldwork to document social interactions, environmental settings, and researcher reflections (Hammersley \u0026amp; Atkinson, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR16\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2007\u003c/span\u003e; Emerson et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR12\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2011\u003c/span\u003e). Interviews were conducted one-on-one, typically in participants’ homes or nearby communal spaces. In several settlements, conversations also took place in or near shola grasslands—ecologically significant montane landscapes of the Western Ghats that have been increasingly affected by land-use change and conservation restrictions (Chatterjee, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR6\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2024\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eEach settlement was visited at least twice during the study period, allowing opportunities for follow-up conversations and deeper contextual understanding of local social and ecological dynamics (Hammersley \u0026amp; Atkinson, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR16\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2007\u003c/span\u003e). Interviews ranged in duration from approximately 30 minutes to two hours, depending on participant availability and comfort.\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e Interview prompts were open-ended and designed to elicit participants’ own understandings of strain, worry, and change. Questions included prompts such as, “When do you feel strain of mind?” and “How did earlier generations handle worry or hardship?” These questions encouraged participants to describe experiences of mana ulachal in relation to everyday life, land, family, work, and generational shifts.\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eReflexivity and Ethics\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eResearcher positionality was explicitly acknowledged throughout the study. As an urban public health researcher working in Indigenous settings, the author maintained reflexive journals to examine how background, assumptions, and social position might shape interactions, interpretation, and analysis (Finlay, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR13\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2002\u003c/span\u003e; Hammersley \u0026amp; Atkinson, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR16\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2007\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eEthical procedures adhered to the principles of the Declaration of Helsinki (World Medical Association, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR31\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2013\u003c/span\u003e). Due to literacy considerations in some communities, written consent was not always feasible. Instead, verbal informed consent was obtained and audio-recorded at the beginning of each interview after explaining the study purpose, confidentiality measures, and participants’ right to withdraw (Orb et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR26\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2001\u003c/span\u003e; World Health Organization, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR30\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2011\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIn addition to individual consent, permission was sought from village elders and community leaders in accordance with local cultural protocols. Such community-level engagement is recognized as an important ethical practice in research involving Indigenous populations (CIOMS, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR7\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2016\u003c/span\u003e). Pseudonyms are used throughout the manuscript to ensure confidentiality.\u003c/p\u003e\u003ch2\u003eData Analysis\u003c/h2\u003e\u003cp\u003eAudio recordings were transcribed and, where necessary, translated into English. Analysis followed an inductive thematic approach, allowing patterns and meanings to emerge from participants’ narratives rather than being imposed a priori (Braun \u0026amp; Clarke, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR4\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2006\u003c/span\u003e). Initial coding involved close, line-by-line reading of transcripts to identify recurring concepts and expressions related to mana ulachal and experiences of change.\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eCodes were then compared across participants, tribes, and age groups using a constant comparative method to identify similarities and differences in how distress was described (Glaser \u0026amp; Strauss, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR15\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e1967\u003c/span\u003e; Charmaz, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR5\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2006\u003c/span\u003e). Through iterative discussions with community mediators and repeated engagement with field notes, codes were clustered into broader thematic categories reflecting ecological, economic, relational, and generational dimensions of distress (Hammersley \u0026amp; Atkinson, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR16\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2007\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFinally, themes were synthesized into a conceptual framework linking environmental transformation, cultural change, and emotional experience. This interpretive synthesis aimed to situate mana ulachal within broader social and ecological processes shaping wellbeing in the Nilgiris (Braun \u0026amp; Clarke, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR4\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2006\u003c/span\u003e; Creswell, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR9\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2013\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e"},{"header":"Results","content":"\u003cdiv id=\"Sec4\" class=\"Section2\"\u003e \u003ch2\u003eOverview of Thematic Findings\u003c/h2\u003e \u003cp\u003eThematic analysis revealed nine interconnected pathways through which respondents described evolving experiences of \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e. These pathways were grounded in shifts related to land, kinship, labour, livelihood security, and generational knowledge. Although each pathway reflects a distinct domain of change, participants\u0026rsquo; narratives showed that these experiences were deeply interconnected and mutually reinforcing.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eElders most often located distress in ecological loss, declining cultivation, and the erosion of collective practices tied to land and ritual continuity. Younger adults, by contrast, more frequently emphasized pressures linked to education, wage labor, social comparison, and aspirations shaped by media exposure. Together, these narratives clustered into three broad domains: \u003cb\u003eEcological and Land-Based\u003c/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003eEconomic and Work-Based\u003c/b\u003e, and \u003cb\u003eCultural and Generational\u003c/b\u003e transformations. Across domains, respondents described \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e not as an isolated mental state but as a relational experience emerging from disruptions in social and ecological balance (Kirmayer, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR18\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2019\u003c/span\u003e; Kirmayer et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR19\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2021\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThe structure of these findings is illustrated in Fig.\u0026nbsp;\u003cspan refid=\"Fig1\" class=\"InternalRef\"\u003e1\u003c/span\u003e (not shown here), which maps how environmental change, market integration, media exposure, and tourism intersect to generate the nine pathways of distress described below.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e \u003c/p\u003e \u003c/div\u003e\n\u003ch3\u003ePathway 1: Ecological Displacement\u003c/h3\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMany respondents described emotional discomfort linked to displacement from forest environments and restricted access to landscapes that had previously structured daily life. Participants frequently spoke of the forest not merely as a resource base but as a source of identity, belonging, and spiritual continuity. Separation from forest spaces was therefore experienced as a profound relational loss.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eSeveral elders recalled earlier periods when movement through forests, gathering, hunting, and ritual use of specific sites formed an integral part of life. Restrictions on forest access, conservation regulations, and land-use changes were described as gradually narrowing these relationships. Respondents framed this shift as a form of ecological and cultural dislocation rather than simply a change in occupation.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eA 40-year-old Kattunayakan participant explained:\u003cdiv class=\"BlockQuote\"\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe forest is everything to us. It is where we learned, where we lived, where we prayed. Now we cannot go freely. Staying away makes me feel disconnected and disturbed.\u003c/p\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eSuch accounts illustrate how emotional strain was tied to changes in access and autonomy rather than to individual psychological factors alone. Participants emphasized that the forest had historically structured knowledge transmission, food gathering, social interaction, and ritual practice. When these relationships were disrupted, they described a lingering sense of incompleteness and unease, which they identified as \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThese narratives resonate with Indigenous wellbeing frameworks that position land as central to identity, continuity, and emotional balance (Kirmayer et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR19\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2021\u003c/span\u003e). They also reflect broader patterns in which environmental governance and conservation policies, even when framed as protective, can reshape Indigenous relationships with place and generate psychosocial strain (Czyzewski, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR10\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2011\u003c/span\u003e; Bose, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR3\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2019\u003c/span\u003e). In this context, \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e emerged as an emotional expression of ecological displacement \u0026mdash; a feeling of being out of place in landscapes that once anchored collective life.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003ch3\u003ePathway 2: Cash Economies and Wage Labour\u003c/h3\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA second major pathway through which participants described \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e was the transition from subsistence-oriented livelihoods toward wage labor and cash-based economies. Respondents across age groups reflected on how this shift had altered social relationships, values, and everyday rhythms of life.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eElders frequently contrasted earlier systems of exchange, mutual aid, and shared subsistence with contemporary patterns of individual earning and spending. They described the past as a time when barter, shared labor, and collective food production fostered a sense of interdependence and sufficiency. In contrast, the increasing importance of cash income was associated with heightened comparison, competition, and a constant sense of \u0026ldquo;not having enough.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eOne elder explained:\u003cdiv class=\"BlockQuote\"\u003e\u003cp\u003eBefore, we worked together and shared what we had. Now everyone thinks about money. If one family buys something, others feel they must also buy. This brings worry.\u003c/p\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eYounger participants echoed these concerns but described them through the lens of emerging aspirations. Wage labor was often necessary to support schooling, healthcare, and consumer needs, yet it also introduced new forms of instability. Seasonal employment, irregular income, and dependence on external markets created uncertainty about the future. Participants linked this insecurity to feelings of restlessness, sleeplessness, and ongoing mental strain.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eSeveral respondents emphasized that wage labor frequently required travel away from the village or long hours in plantation or construction work, reducing time for communal activities and traditional practices. This shift was described as weakening collective bonds and increasing individual burden. As one young man noted:\u003cdiv class=\"BlockQuote\"\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe go out to work all day. There is no time to sit together, no time to go to the forest. Life feels rushed, and the mind is always thinking about money.\u003c/p\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThese accounts illustrate how monetization of livelihood was experienced not only as economic change but also as a transformation in social life and emotional orientation. The move toward wage labor introduced new expectations, comparisons, and dependencies that participants associated with persistent worry and dissatisfaction. Such experiences align with broader scholarship showing that market integration can reshape social relations and produce psychosocial strain when traditional systems of reciprocity and collective security are disrupted (Kirmayer, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR18\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2019\u003c/span\u003e; Czyzewski, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR10\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2011\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eIn this context, \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e emerged as an emotional expression of the pressures and uncertainties accompanying the shift from subsistence and shared livelihoods toward individualized, cash-dependent ways of living.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003ch3\u003ePathway 3: Land Leasing, Plantations, and Monoculture Change\u003c/h3\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eParticipants also linked experiences of \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e to visible transformations in the landscape, particularly the expansion of monoculture plantations and the leasing of land for commercial agriculture. These changes were described as replacing diverse, multi-use forest and cultivation areas with uniform tea or other plantation crops, altering both ecological balance and cultural relationships to land.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eElders in particular recalled earlier landscapes characterized by mixed vegetation, forest produce, medicinal plants, and small-scale cultivation that supported subsistence needs. The transition to monoculture plantations was perceived as narrowing ecological diversity and limiting access to forest-based resources. Respondents emphasized that these landscapes had once functioned as living environments where knowledge, stories, and skills were transmitted across generations.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eA Kurumba participant reflected:\u003cdiv class=\"BlockQuote\"\u003e\u003cp\u003eEarlier, we knew every plant, every path. Now there is only tea. The land looks green, but it is not our land in the same way.\u003c/p\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eParticipants described monoculture not only as environmental simplification but as a loss of familiarity and meaning. The disappearance of diverse plant species and gathering spaces disrupted everyday practices such as collecting fuelwood, wild foods, and medicinal herbs. This was experienced as a break in continuity between past and present ways of living.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eSeveral respondents associated these landscape changes with feelings of disorientation and emotional unease. They noted that while plantations provided wage labor, they also represented a form of land transformation that reduced autonomy and connection to ancestral practices. The visual and functional change in the environment thus became a reminder of broader social shifts away from land-based knowledge and self-reliance.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThese narratives reflect the intertwined ecological and cultural consequences of land-use change in the Nilgiris. Historical and ongoing processes of plantation expansion have reshaped montane ecosystems of the Western Ghats, replacing biodiverse forest-grassland mosaics with commercially managed landscapes (Mandelbaum, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR22\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e1982\u003c/span\u003e; Chatterjee, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR6\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2024\u003c/span\u003e). For participants, such transformations were not abstract environmental issues but lived experiences that altered daily routines, knowledge systems, and emotional ties to place.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eIn this context, \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e captured the sense of loss and unsettledness associated with living in landscapes that looked familiar yet felt fundamentally changed \u0026mdash; ecologically simplified spaces that no longer supported the same relationships between people, plants, animals, and memory.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cdiv id=\"Sec8\" class=\"Section2\"\u003e \u003ch2\u003ePathway 4: Debt, Microfinance, and Financial Worry\u003c/h2\u003e \u003cp\u003eA fourth pathway through which participants described \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e was the growing presence of debt and microfinance schemes in village life. While access to loans was sometimes seen as enabling households to meet immediate needs\u0026mdash;such as education expenses, healthcare costs, or housing improvements\u0026mdash;many respondents emphasized the persistent anxiety associated with repayment obligations.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eParticipants described loan repayment as a continuous mental burden that shaped daily routines and sleep patterns. Rather than being a one-time financial event, debt was experienced as an ongoing presence in the background of everyday life. Several respondents spoke of waking at night thinking about upcoming payments or feeling pressured to accept additional work to avoid default.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eA middle-aged woman explained:\u003cdiv class=\"BlockQuote\"\u003e\u003cp\u003eEven when I finish my work, my mind does not rest. I keep thinking about the loan. If we miss one payment, they will come and ask. That worry stays inside.\u003c/p\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eWomen, in particular, described carrying a disproportionate share of responsibility for managing household finances and ensuring that repayments were made on time. Participation in self-help groups and microfinance collectives often placed women at the center of borrowing and repayment processes, which participants linked to heightened emotional strain when income was uncertain. Some respondents described feeling embarrassed or ashamed when unable to meet expected payments, further intensifying stress.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eMen also reported financial worry but often framed it in relation to irregular wage labor, seasonal employment, and pressure to meet emerging material expectations. Financial insecurity was described as eroding a sense of control and increasing irritability, tension within households, and feelings of inadequacy.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThese experiences reflect broader patterns in which microfinance and household debt, while intended to promote economic inclusion, can also generate psychosocial stress, particularly when income streams are unstable and social accountability mechanisms are strong (Taylor, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR28\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2022\u003c/span\u003e). In the Nilgiri context, debt was not described merely as an economic issue but as an emotional state characterized by constant worry, rumination, and fear of social consequences.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eWithin participants\u0026rsquo; narratives, \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e captured this enduring financial unease \u0026mdash; a mental restlessness tied to obligations that could not easily be set aside and that reshaped both household dynamics and personal wellbeing.\u003c/p\u003e \u003c/div\u003e\n\u003ch3\u003ePathway 5: Gendered Patterns of Distress\u003c/h3\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eParticipants described \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e as taking gendered forms shaped by changing labor roles, income patterns, and expectations within households. Women and men spoke about distress differently, reflecting unequal burdens and shifting responsibilities in the context of economic and social change.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eWomen frequently described carrying a disproportionate share of domestic work alongside income-generating activities. Many were involved in self-help groups, wage labor, or small-scale trading, while also remaining responsible for childcare, cooking, water collection, and care of elderly family members. This \u0026ldquo;double burden\u0026rdquo; was described as leaving little time for rest, contributing to physical exhaustion and persistent mental strain.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eOne woman explained:\u003cdiv class=\"BlockQuote\"\u003e\u003cp\u003eFrom morning to night there is work. Even if I sit down, my mind is not quiet because I am thinking of what is still left to do.\u003c/p\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eSeveral women linked their distress to limited control over household finances despite contributing labor. They described frustration when earnings were insufficient to meet rising expenses related to schooling, healthcare, and consumer goods. Feelings of responsibility without authority were frequently associated with worry, irritability, and a sense of being overwhelmed.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eMen\u0026rsquo;s experiences of \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e were often described in relation to employment instability and shifting expectations around masculinity and provision. Younger men in particular spoke of pressure to earn cash income, build houses, and support extended families, while facing irregular work and low wages. Some described withdrawing socially or experiencing frustration when unable to meet perceived responsibilities.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eParticipants also noted that men\u0026rsquo;s distress was sometimes expressed indirectly, including through irritability, silence, or increased alcohol consumption. These behaviors were interpreted by family members as signs of internal strain rather than simply personal failings.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThese gendered patterns reflect broader structural shifts in which market integration and livelihood transitions reshape household labor divisions and intensify burdens on women while simultaneously destabilizing men\u0026rsquo;s roles as providers (Taylor, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR28\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2022\u003c/span\u003e). They also align with research showing that economic precarity and changing gender norms can influence how distress is experienced and expressed in marginalized communities (Czyzewski, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR10\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2011\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eWithin these narratives, \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e functioned as a shared term that encompassed both women\u0026rsquo;s chronic overload and men\u0026rsquo;s frustration and withdrawal, highlighting how emotional strain is embedded in gendered social roles rather than confined to individual psychology.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003ch3\u003ePathway 6: The Education and Aspiration Paradox\u003c/h3\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eEducation emerged as a pathway that simultaneously expanded opportunities and generated new forms of emotional strain. Participants across generations valued schooling for its potential to provide employment, mobility, and social recognition. However, they also described education as producing a sense of dislocation, particularly among younger people navigating expectations that differed sharply from village life.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eYounger adults frequently spoke of feeling \u0026ldquo;in between\u0026rdquo; worlds \u0026mdash; connected to their communities but increasingly oriented toward urban employment, formal qualifications, and consumer aspirations shaped by schooling and media. This liminal position was described as emotionally demanding. Several participants noted that while education raised hopes for upward mobility, limited job opportunities and discrimination often left youth feeling uncertain and dissatisfied.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eOne young participant explained:\u003cdiv class=\"BlockQuote\"\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe study and we learn many things, but after that we don\u0026rsquo;t know where we belong. In the village, people say we have changed. Outside, they don\u0026rsquo;t accept us fully. That makes the mind restless.\u003c/p\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eElders expressed ambivalence about schooling. While acknowledging its practical importance, they worried that formal education did not adequately transmit ecological knowledge, ritual practices, or community values. Some felt that younger generations were losing familiarity with forests, cultivation, and customary responsibilities. This perceived weakening of intergenerational knowledge exchange was described as a source of emotional unease for both elders and youth.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eParticipants also linked education to rising material aspirations. Exposure to new lifestyles through schooling and media led some young people to compare their lives with urban peers, intensifying feelings of inadequacy when opportunities did not match expectations. In this way, schooling became associated not only with hope but also with pressure and self-doubt.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThese experiences align with broader research on Indigenous education contexts, where formal schooling can produce both empowerment and cultural disconnection when curricula and institutional structures are not aligned with local knowledge systems and lifeways (Kirmayer et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR19\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2021\u003c/span\u003e). They also reflect the psychosocial strain that can accompany aspiration under conditions of structural inequality and limited economic mobility (Kirmayer, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR18\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2019\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eWithin participants\u0026rsquo; narratives, \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e captured this paradoxical emotional terrain \u0026mdash; the tension between hope and uncertainty, belonging and displacement, that accompanied educational change and shifting generational futures.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cdiv id=\"Sec11\" class=\"Section2\"\u003e \u003ch2\u003ePathway 7: Loss of Cultivation and Land-Based Food Practices\u003c/h2\u003e \u003cp\u003eParticipants also linked \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e to the decline of traditional cultivation practices and reduced engagement with land-based food systems. Elders in particular described earlier periods when households grew millets, tubers, greens, and other local crops, supplementing forest foods and creating a sense of self-reliance tied to land and seasonal rhythms. The gradual reduction of cultivation was experienced as both a material and emotional loss.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eSeveral respondents attributed this shift to shrinking access to cultivable land, changing rainfall patterns, wildlife conflict, and the increasing need to prioritize wage labor over farming. As cultivation declined, households became more dependent on purchased foods. Participants described this transition as altering not only diet but also daily routines, knowledge transmission, and the embodied experience of working with soil.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eOne elder reflected:\u003cdiv class=\"BlockQuote\"\u003e\u003cp\u003eBefore, we ate what we grew. We knew the taste of our land. Now we buy from the shop. The body feels different, and the mind is not satisfied.\u003c/p\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eGrowing food was frequently described as a source of pride, strength, and continuity with ancestors. When younger generations no longer participated in cultivation, elders worried that important skills and relationships with land were being lost. Participants associated this break in continuity with feelings of sadness, frustration, and a sense that life had become more uncertain and dependent on external systems.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eYounger participants acknowledged these concerns but also noted the practical challenges of sustaining cultivation alongside schooling and wage labor. Some described a desire to maintain small kitchen gardens or revive traditional crops but felt constrained by time, land availability, and market pressures.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThese narratives highlight how food practices are deeply intertwined with identity, memory, and wellbeing. Research in Indigenous contexts shows that land-based food systems contribute not only to nutrition but also to cultural continuity and emotional resilience, while their erosion can generate distress linked to environmental and social change (Kirmayer et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR19\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2021\u003c/span\u003e; Albrecht, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR1\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2020\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eIn this context, \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e emerged as an expression of the unsettledness associated with losing direct relationships with land through cultivation \u0026mdash; a feeling that nourishment, knowledge, and belonging were becoming increasingly mediated by markets rather than grounded in place.\u003c/p\u003e \u003c/div\u003e \u003cdiv id=\"Sec12\" class=\"Section2\"\u003e \u003ch2\u003ePathway 8: Tourism and Commodification\u003c/h2\u003e \u003cp\u003eParticipants described tourism as an intrusive and ambivalent presence in their communities. While some acknowledged limited economic benefits \u0026mdash; particularly for the Todas through the sale of embroidered products \u0026mdash; many felt that tourism primarily brought constant visibility without corresponding respect or meaningful return. Being watched, photographed, and treated as culturally \u0026ldquo;exotic\u0026rdquo; was described as emotionally unsettling, especially for elders.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eA middle-aged Kurumba participant remarked:\u003cdiv class=\"BlockQuote\"\u003e\u003cp\u003eEarlier we saw tourists only during season. Now they are here throughout the year. We feel like we are always being looked at.\u003c/p\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eParticipants emphasized that tourism altered the social atmosphere of settlements. What were once private or community-oriented spaces became sites of external curiosity. Elders in particular expressed discomfort with being observed during daily routines or ritual activities, feeling that sacred or intimate aspects of life were being reduced to spectacle. This persistent visibility was associated with feelings of irritation, unease, and a desire for withdrawal \u0026mdash; experiences participants identified as mana ulachal.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eAt the same time, generational differences emerged. Younger participants were more likely to view tourism pragmatically, as a possible source of income or exposure, while older participants tended to see it as disruptive to cultural rhythms and dignity. This divergence itself became a source of tension within communities.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThese accounts reflect broader research showing that tourism in Indigenous regions can produce commodification of culture and a sense of objectification, particularly when community control over representation and benefits is limited (Cohen, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR8\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2019\u003c/span\u003e). In the Nilgiri context, tourism was not simply an economic activity but an ongoing social presence that reshaped how communities experienced privacy, identity, and belonging. Within this setting, mana ulachal captured the emotional strain of living under continuous external gaze.\u003c/p\u003e \u003c/div\u003e \u003cdiv id=\"Sec13\" class=\"Section2\"\u003e \u003ch2\u003ePathway 9: Erosion of Generational Wisdom\u003c/h2\u003e \u003cp\u003eThe final pathway described by participants concerned the erosion of generational knowledge systems. Elders consistently framed knowledge as something learned through embodied practice \u0026mdash; through forest work involving medicinal plants, ritual participation, craft traditions, and seasonal cultivation. These forms of knowledge were described as central to identity, dignity, and continuity.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eA Kota priest expressed this concern:\u003cdiv class=\"BlockQuote\"\u003e\u003cp\u003eYoung people do not have time to learn about our forests and our smithing skills.\u003c/p\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eParticipants explained that younger generations, shaped by formal education, wage labor, and media exposure, had less time and sometimes less interest in learning traditional skills. Ritual practices had been shortened or simplified, forest-based knowledge was not consistently passed down, and seasonal agricultural practices were no longer widely shared. Elders described this as a painful rupture in continuity, leading to feelings of irrelevance, loss, and emotional disturbance.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eSome acknowledged that adaptation was necessary and that certain practices had always evolved. However, they distinguished between adaptation and erosion, emphasizing that current changes felt too rapid and externally driven. Media exposure and schooling were frequently mentioned as pulling youth away from village life, while elders felt their knowledge was undervalued.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThese narratives resonate with research highlighting the role of cultural continuity and intergenerational knowledge transmission in Indigenous wellbeing (Kirmayer et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR19\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2021\u003c/span\u003e). When these processes weaken, communities may experience not only cultural loss but also emotional strain tied to disrupted identity and purpose. In the Nilgiris, mana ulachal became a way for elders to describe the distress associated with witnessing the fading of knowledge that once anchored community life.\u003c/p\u003e \u003c/div\u003e"},{"header":"Discussion","content":"\u003cp\u003eThis study positions \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e as a relational and socially embedded expression of distress that emerges from cumulative ecological, economic, cultural, and generational transformations in the Nilgiris. Rather than describing an individual psychological condition, participants used \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e to articulate unease linked to displacement from forests, monetization of livelihoods, landscape change, debt pressures, gendered burdens, educational dissonance, loss of cultivation, intrusive tourism, and erosion of intergenerational knowledge. Across these domains, distress was framed as arising when long-standing relationships between people, land, work, and community became unsettled. This aligns with Indigenous wellbeing perspectives that understand emotional life as inseparable from ecological and social balance (Kirmayer et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR19\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2021\u003c/span\u003e; Kirmayer, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR18\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2019\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eGenerational contrasts were central to how \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e was described. Elders most often located distress in ecological displacement, loss of cultivation, tourism intrusion, and erosion of generational wisdom \u0026mdash; all tied to weakening continuity with land and tradition. Younger adults more frequently emphasized pressures linked to education, wage labor, material comparison, and changing aspirations. These patterns reflect how historical time and life-course position shape emotional experience, with different generations encountering social change at distinct stages of life and responsibility (Elder et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR11\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2016\u003c/span\u003e). \u003cem\u003eMana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e therefore functioned as a bridge term through which multiple generations expressed different, but interconnected, forms of strain.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThe findings also highlight how structural and governance-related processes are lived emotionally at the community level. Forest access restrictions, plantation expansion, market integration, microfinance penetration, and state-led education systems were not described in policy terms but through their effects on everyday relationships, autonomy, and dignity. Participants did not separate \u0026ldquo;development\u0026rdquo; from emotional life; instead, they experienced these processes as altering the conditions under which meaningful living was possible. This interpretation resonates with scholarship that frames colonial and postcolonial governance, economic restructuring, and land regulation as enduring social determinants of Indigenous wellbeing (Czyzewski, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR10\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2011\u003c/span\u003e; Bose, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR3\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2019\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eEnvironmental change was consistently described not only as ecological transformation but as emotional disturbance. Monoculture landscapes, reduced forest access, and shifts away from cultivation were experienced as losses of familiarity, knowledge, and belonging. Such accounts echo emerging work on ecological distress, which recognizes emotional responses to environmental disruption as legitimate dimensions of health (Albrecht, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR1\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2020\u003c/span\u003e). In the Nilgiri context, \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e captured a localized articulation of this phenomenon, where environmental instability reverberated through identity, livelihood, and memory.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eLanguage played a crucial role in shaping how distress became speakable. As a Tamil conversational phrase rather than an Indigenous diagnostic category, \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e provided a socially accessible way to discuss emotional strain without invoking biomedical labels. Its flexibility allowed participants to connect personal feelings with collective change, illustrating how idioms of distress operate as cultural tools that translate structural pressures into everyday emotional language (Kaiser et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR17\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2015\u003c/span\u003e; Georgaca, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR14\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2014\u003c/span\u003e). In this sense, \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e functioned not as a symptom category but as an interpretive bridge between lived experience and broader social transformation.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThese findings carry implications for mental health practice and policy in Indigenous contexts. Interventions focused solely on individual symptoms risk overlooking the relational and ecological dimensions of distress described here. Participants\u0026rsquo; narratives suggest that wellbeing is tied to land access, livelihood security, cultural continuity, and intergenerational relationships. Approaches that support community-based initiatives, culturally relevant education, sustainable livelihood options, and respectful engagement with tourism may therefore be as important as clinical services in addressing emotional strain (Kirmayer et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR19\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2021\u003c/span\u003e; Whitmee et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR29\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2015\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eMethodologically, this study demonstrates the value of beginning with locally meaningful expressions rather than imposing external diagnostic frameworks. Working through \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e enabled participants to articulate layered experiences of change in their own terms, revealing connections between environment, economy, culture, and emotion that might otherwise remain obscured. This supports qualitative approaches that treat everyday language as a gateway into socially embedded understandings of wellbeing (Braun \u0026amp; Clarke, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR4\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2006\u003c/span\u003e; Kaiser et al., \u003cspan citationid=\"CR17\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2015\u003c/span\u003e).\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eSeveral limitations should be noted. The study focused on a limited number of settlements and participants and does not claim statistical representativeness. Use of Tamil as a bridge language may have shaped how distress was expressed, and translation processes may not have captured all nuances embedded in tribal languages. As with all qualitative research, findings reflect interpretive engagement rather than generalizable measurement (Creswell, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR9\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2013\u003c/span\u003e; Hammersley \u0026amp; Atkinson, \u003cspan citationid=\"CR16\" class=\"CitationRef\"\u003e2007\u003c/span\u003e). Nevertheless, the study provides a detailed account of how emotional life is experienced within ongoing ecological and social transition in the Nilgiris.\u003c/p\u003e"},{"header":"Conclusion","content":"\u003cp\u003eThis study presents \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e as a culturally situated expression of distress that emerges from intertwined ecological, economic, cultural, and generational changes in the Nilgiris. Participants did not describe distress as an isolated psychological condition but as a relational experience arising when connections to land, livelihood, community roles, and intergenerational continuity became unsettled. Through narratives of ecological displacement, monetization of daily life, monoculture landscapes, debt pressures, gendered burdens, educational dissonance, declining cultivation, intrusive tourism, and the erosion of generational knowledge, \u003cem\u003emana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e captured the emotional texture of living through rapid social transformation.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eBy foregrounding a locally meaningful idiom, the study highlights how emotional life in Indigenous contexts is embedded in relationships between people, place, and collective history. \u003cem\u003eMana ulachal\u003c/em\u003e functioned as a shared language through which participants translated structural and environmental change into everyday emotional experience. Recognizing such expressions broadens understandings of mental health beyond individual symptom frameworks and toward relational, ecological, and cultural determinants of wellbeing.\u003c/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThese findings suggest that responses to distress in Indigenous settings must move beyond narrowly biomedical models to engage with land access, livelihood security, cultural continuity, and intergenerational knowledge systems. Attending to these dimensions is essential not only for supporting emotional wellbeing but also for sustaining the social and ecological foundations of community life in the Nilgiris.\u003c/p\u003e"},{"header":"Declarations","content":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eEthics approval and consent to participate\u003c/strong\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThis study was conducted in accordance with the ethical principles of the Declaration of Helsinki. Ethical approval was obtained from the Institutional Ethics Committee of SRM Medical College Hospital Faculty Institutional Ethics Committee (Approval No:\u0026nbsp;2912/IEC/20215.6.2.2). Due to varying literacy levels among participants, written consent was not always feasible; therefore, verbal informed consent was obtained and audio-recorded prior to interviews. In addition to individual consent, permission to conduct the study was sought from village elders and community leaders in accordance with local cultural protocols.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eConsent for publication\u003c/strong\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eParticipants provided informed consent for the use of anonymized quotations in publications and presentations. No identifying personal information is included in this manuscript.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eAvailability of data and materials\u003c/strong\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe datasets generated and analyzed during the current study are not publicly available due to the sensitive nature of the qualitative data and the need to protect participant confidentiality, particularly within small Indigenous communities. De-identified excerpts may be made available from the corresponding author on reasonable request, subject to ethical approval and community permissions.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eCompeting interests\u003c/strong\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe authors declare that they have no competing interests.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFunding\u003c/strong\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThis research did not receive any specific grant from funding agencies in the public, commercial, or not-for-profit sectors.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eAuthors\u0026rsquo; contributions\u003c/strong\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGV conceived the study, conducted fieldwork, performed data analysis, and drafted the manuscript. PV contributed to study design, provided academic supervision, and critically revised the manuscript for important intellectual content. Both authors read and approved the final manuscript.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eAcknowledgements\u003c/strong\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe authors express deep gratitude to the Indigenous communities of the Nilgiri Hills who generously shared their time, knowledge, and experiences. Appreciation is also extended to local community mediators who facilitated fieldwork and to academic colleagues who provided guidance during the research process.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eUse of AI tools: The authors used a large language model (LLM) to assist with language editing and manuscript structuring. All interpretations, analyses, and conclusions are solely those of the authors.\u003c/p\u003e"},{"header":"References","content":"\u003col\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eAlbrecht, G. (2020). \u003cem\u003eEarth emotions: New words for a new world\u003c/em\u003e. Cornell University Press.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eBansal, V., Jagadisan, S., \u0026amp; Sen, J. (2023). 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H., Johnson, M. K., \u0026amp; Crosnoe, R. (2016). The emergence and development of life course theory. In J. T. Mortimer \u0026amp; M. J. Shanahan (Eds.), \u003cem\u003eHandbook of the life course\u003c/em\u003e (pp. 3\u0026ndash;19). Springer.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eEmerson, R. M., Fretz, R. I., \u0026amp; Shaw, L. L. (2011). \u003cem\u003eWriting ethnographic fieldnotes\u003c/em\u003e (2nd ed.). University of Chicago Press.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eFinlay, L. (2002). Negotiating the swamp: The opportunity and challenge of reflexivity in research practice. \u003cem\u003eQualitative Research, 2\u003c/em\u003e(2), 209\u0026ndash;230.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eGeorgaca, E. (2014). Discourse analytic research on mental distress: A critical overview. \u003cem\u003eJournal of Mental Health, 23\u003c/em\u003e(2), 55\u0026ndash;61.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eGlaser, B., \u0026amp; Strauss, A. (1967). \u003cem\u003eThe discovery of grounded theory: Strategies for qualitative research\u003c/em\u003e. Aldine.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eHammersley, M., \u0026amp; Atkinson, P. (2007). \u003cem\u003eEthnography: Principles in practice\u003c/em\u003e (3rd ed.). Routledge.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eKaiser, B. N., Haroz, E. E., Kohrt, B. A., Bolton, P. A., Bass, J. K., \u0026amp; Hinton, D. E. (2015). \u0026ldquo;Thinking too much\u0026rdquo;: A systematic review of a common idiom of distress. \u003cem\u003eSocial Science \u0026amp; Medicine, 147\u003c/em\u003e, 170\u0026ndash;183.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eKirmayer, L. J. (2019). Toward an ecosocial psychiatry. \u003cem\u003eWorld Psychiatry, 18\u003c/em\u003e(2), 131\u0026ndash;132.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eKirmayer, L. J., Dandeneau, S., Marshall, E., Phillips, M. K., \u0026amp; Williamson, K. J. (2021). Reconnecting the mind and land: Indigenous wellbeing and the relational self. \u003cem\u003eTranscultural Psychiatry, 58\u003c/em\u003e(4), 1\u0026ndash;19.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eKvale, S., \u0026amp; Brinkmann, S. (2009). \u003cem\u003eInterViews: Learning the craft of qualitative research interviewing\u003c/em\u003e (2nd ed.). Sage.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eMandelbaum, D. G. (1941). Culture change among the Nilgiri tribes. \u003cem\u003eAmerican Anthropologist, 43\u003c/em\u003e(1), 19\u0026ndash;26.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eMandelbaum, D. G. (1982). The Nilgiris as a region. \u003cem\u003eEconomic and Political Weekly, 17\u003c/em\u003e(36), 1459\u0026ndash;1467.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eMinistry of Tribal Affairs, Government of India. (n.d.). Particularly Vulnerable Tribal Groups (PVTGs). Government of India.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eMinz, S. K. (2020). Tribal development policies in India: Its implications and prospects. \u003cem\u003eMukt Shabd Journal, 9\u003c/em\u003e(5), 818\u0026ndash;829.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eNoy, C. (2008). Sampling knowledge: The hermeneutics of snowball sampling in qualitative research. \u003cem\u003eInternational Journal of Social Research Methodology, 11\u003c/em\u003e(4), 327\u0026ndash;344.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eOrb, A., Eisenhauer, L., \u0026amp; Wynaden, D. (2001). Ethics in qualitative research. \u003cem\u003eJournal of Nursing Scholarship, 33\u003c/em\u003e(1), 93\u0026ndash;96.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003ePatton, M. Q. (2015). \u003cem\u003eQualitative research \u0026amp; evaluation methods\u003c/em\u003e (4th ed.). Sage.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eTaylor, M. (2022). The moral economy of microfinance and women\u0026rsquo;s debt. \u003cem\u003eDevelopment and Change, 53\u003c/em\u003e(1), 45\u0026ndash;67.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eWhitmee, S., Haines, A., Beyrer, C., Boltz, F., Capon, A. G., Ferreira de Souza Dias, B., \u0026hellip; Yach, D. (2015). Safeguarding human health in the Anthropocene epoch: Report of The Rockefeller Foundation\u0026ndash;Lancet Commission on planetary health. \u003cem\u003eThe Lancet, 386\u003c/em\u003e(10007), 1973\u0026ndash;2028.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eWorld Health Organization. (2011). \u003cem\u003eStandards and operational guidance for ethics review of health-related research with human participants\u003c/em\u003e. WHO.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eWorld Medical Association. (2013). Declaration of Helsinki: Ethical principles for medical research involving human subjects. \u003cem\u003eJAMA, 310\u003c/em\u003e(20), 2191\u0026ndash;2194.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003eZvelebil, K. V. (1985). The body in Nilgiri tribal languages: A contribution to areal linguistic studies. \u003cem\u003eJournal of the American Oriental Society, 105\u003c/em\u003e(4), 653\u0026ndash;674.\u003c/li\u003e\n\u003c/ol\u003e"}],"fulltextSource":"","fullText":"","funders":[],"hasAdminPriorityOnWorkflow":false,"hasManuscriptDocX":true,"hasOptedInToPreprint":true,"hasPassedJournalQc":"","hasAnyPriority":false,"hideJournal":true,"highlight":"","institution":"","isAcceptedByJournal":false,"isAuthorSuppliedPdf":false,"isDeskRejected":"","isHiddenFromSearch":false,"isInQc":false,"isInWorkflow":false,"isPdf":false,"isPdfUpToDate":true,"isWithdrawnOrRetracted":false,"journal":{"display":true,"email":"[email protected]","identity":"researchsquare","isNatureJournal":false,"hasQc":true,"allowDirectSubmit":true,"externalIdentity":"","sideBox":"","snPcode":"","submissionUrl":"/submission","title":"Research Square","twitterHandle":"researchsquare","acdcEnabled":true,"dfaEnabled":false,"editorialSystem":"","reportingPortfolio":"","inReviewEnabled":false,"inReviewRevisionsEnabled":true},"keywords":"Indigenous wellbeing, idioms of distress, ecological change, cultural continuity, Nilgiri tribes, mana ulachal, qualitative research, generational change","lastPublishedDoi":"10.21203/rs.3.rs-8693886/v1","lastPublishedDoiUrl":"https://doi.org/10.21203/rs.3.rs-8693886/v1","license":{"name":"CC BY 4.0","url":"https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/"},"manuscriptAbstract":"\u003ch2\u003eBackground:\u003c/h2\u003e \u003cp\u003eIndigenous wellbeing is deeply connected to land, livelihood, and cultural continuity, yet rapid ecological and social transformations are reshaping how distress is experienced and expressed. In the Nilgiri Hills of South India, Indigenous communities increasingly use the Tamil phrase mana ulachal to describe states of mental strain or inner disturbance. This study examines how mana ulachal functions as a culturally situated expression of distress emerging from changing relationships between environment, economy, and generational life.\u003c/p\u003e\u003ch2\u003eMethods:\u003c/h2\u003e \u003cp\u003eAn exploratory qualitative study was conducted across six Indigenous settlements in the Nilgiri Hills. Forty-nine participants representing elder (\u0026ge;\u0026thinsp;50 years) and younger (18\u0026ndash;50 years) generations were recruited using purposive and snowball sampling. Data were collected through conversational in-depth interviews and ethnographic observation between 2022 and 2023. Interviews were conducted in Tamil and local tribal languages with translation support. Transcripts and field notes were analyzed using inductive thematic analysis and constant comparison to identify recurring patterns in how mana ulachal was understood and experienced.\u003c/p\u003e\u003ch2\u003eResults:\u003c/h2\u003e \u003cp\u003eNine interconnected pathways of evolving distress were identified: ecological displacement from forests; transition to cash economies; land leasing and monoculture landscapes; debt and microfinance pressures; gendered burdens of responsibility; the education and aspiration paradox; loss of cultivation and traditional foods; tourism-related commodification; and erosion of generational knowledge. Elders primarily linked mana ulachal to ecological loss and cultural discontinuity, while younger participants emphasized economic pressures, education-related dissonance, and changing aspirations. Across pathways, distress was framed as relational \u0026mdash; arising when balance between land, livelihood, identity, and community was disrupted.\u003c/p\u003e\u003ch2\u003eDiscussion:\u003c/h2\u003e \u003cp\u003eFindings position mana ulachal as a relational idiom of distress that connects emotional experience to ecological change, market integration, governance structures, and generational transition. Rather than reflecting an individual mental disorder, mana ulachal articulates the psychosocial consequences of living through rapid environmental and cultural transformation. The study underscores the importance of culturally grounded frameworks that recognize land-based relationships, social roles, and knowledge continuity as central to Indigenous wellbeing.\u003c/p\u003e\u003ch2\u003eConclusion:\u003c/h2\u003e \u003cp\u003eMana ulachal offers insight into how Indigenous communities in the Nilgiris experience and communicate distress amid ongoing ecological and social change. Addressing such distress requires approaches that extend beyond individual clinical models to include cultural continuity, livelihood security, respectful tourism, and support for intergenerational knowledge systems.\u003c/p\u003e","manuscriptTitle":"“Mana Ulachal”: Ecological Change, Cultural Transition, and Generational Expressions of Distress among Indigenous Communities of the Nilgiris, India","msid":"","msnumber":"","nonDraftVersions":[{"code":1,"date":"2026-01-29 00:56:54","doi":"10.21203/rs.3.rs-8693886/v1","editorialEvents":[{"type":"communityComments","content":0}],"status":"published","journal":{"display":true,"email":"[email protected]","identity":"researchsquare","isNatureJournal":false,"hasQc":true,"allowDirectSubmit":true,"externalIdentity":"","sideBox":"","snPcode":"","submissionUrl":"/submission","title":"Research Square","twitterHandle":"researchsquare","acdcEnabled":true,"dfaEnabled":false,"editorialSystem":"","reportingPortfolio":"","inReviewEnabled":false,"inReviewRevisionsEnabled":true}}],"origin":"","ownerIdentity":"31ecaac3-9b40-4e47-b3d2-5b477e7d1fd6","owner":[],"postedDate":"January 29th, 2026","published":true,"recentEditorialEvents":[],"rejectedJournal":[],"revision":"","amendment":"","status":"posted","subjectAreas":[],"tags":[],"updatedAt":"2026-02-02T12:57:20+00:00","versionOfRecord":[],"versionCreatedAt":"2026-01-29 00:56:54","video":"","vorDoi":"","vorDoiUrl":"","workflowStages":[]},"version":"v1","identity":"rs-8693886","journalConfig":"researchsquare"},"__N_SSP":true},"page":"/article/[identity]/[[...version]]","query":{"redirect":"/article/rs-8693886","identity":"rs-8693886","version":["v1"]},"buildId":"XKTyCvWXoU3ODBz1xrDgd","isFallback":false,"isExperimentalCompile":false,"dynamicIds":[84888],"gssp":true,"scriptLoader":[]}