PSP: pushing Sahyadri people into deep waters

“I was born here. I grew up wandering in these jungles, this dongar [mountain],” Yema Songal’s smile never leaves his face as he introduces this reporter to his hamlet. Houses with red clay-tiled roofs encircled by the dense green Sahyadris – a serene blend of nature and human settlement. He’s unaware of it, but it is also a section of one of the world’s eight “hottest hotspots” of biological diversity.

Unfortunately, some 280 hectares of it could be underwater soon.

“Our farm is behind that dongar,” Yema gestures towards a hillock while standing in the front yard of his house in Maharashtra’s Ladewadi hamlet (Kalbhonde village gram panchayat). Every trip to their tiny farm to cultivate varai (barnyard millet) is a one-hour trek for him and his wife Suli – both Adivasis in their seventies. “It’s monsoon farming. We get 5-6 sacks [quintals].” That’s the total yield from this less than one acre farm which supports 15 family members – Yema, Suli, their four sons, three daughters-in-law and six grandchildren – until the next harvest a year away. The family depends as much on the forest as on the farm.

“The jungle also provides for us,” he adds. “Fruits, raankand [wild tubers], vegetables, medicinal plants to treat cold, fever, knee pain.” For Yema and his community of 97 families belonging to the Ma Thakur Scheduled Tribe, the forest is essential for survival here in Shahapur taluka of Thane district. “We don’t cut trees. We collect fallen branches for fuel. We build pucca houses with mud, bricks and forest wood; they last decades.”

Adjusting the towel wrapped around his head, Yema continues with anecdotes of his over seven decades of coexistence with neighbouring wildlife, “Bibtya [leopard] comes here. Peacocks and monkeys are also seen here in Ladewadi [hamlet]. There has never been a conflict here.”

Instead, a very different resource conflict threatens to disrupt Yema’s neighbourhood.

“The government wants to build a dam here to generate electricity,” says Somnath Wagh, Yema’s neighbour. The 30-year-old farmer is referring to the proposed Bhavali Pumped Storage Project (PSP). The residents of Ladewadi would learn of this project only in 2022, a full year after the MoU for it was signed.

PSPs are energy storage systems consisting of two connected water reservoirs. Surplus energy on the electrical grid is used to pump water from the lower reservoir to the upper reservoir during periods of low power demand. During peak demand hours, the water is released back downstream to generate electricity. They are built on existing hydroelectric projects, on existing reservoirs, or as off-river projects.

The Bhavali PSP is an off-river project with the proposed capacity to produce 1,500 megawatts (MW) of power. It is a part of the Indian government’s commitment to increase the country’s renewable energy capacity to 500 gigawatts (GW) by 2030. The Bhavali dam near Jamunde village in Igatpuri, Nashik, will be the upper reservoir for this project while the lower reservoir is to be constructed near Ladewadi in Thane.

“You see that slope?” asks Somnath, pointing to a section of the nearby mountain range. “We climb that to go to Nashik. It takes an hour and is like a short cut for us.” The route has been used by people from both districts. Once the project is on, they will have to take routes that demand at least twice that time and use transport that they will have to pay for. The project requires 35.18 hectares of private property and an overwhelming 243.74 hectares of forest land. The PSP will displace 10 families and affect another 130 from Kalbhonde, Kothale and Jamunde villages.

Somnath worries about tunnels, powerhouses and other concrete structures expected to come up. “These small patches of farms on the slopes, they belong to our community. This will all go underwater or get cleared off for construction.” One of these farms provides Somnath with five quintals of paddy for his family of eight. “It will be a permanent loss [of farm produce] for us.

“We have large families here. We spend less on food because of our farms and forests,” he adds. Most people here do not get rations despite having BPL (below poverty line) cards since the nearest ration shop is more than 10 kilometres away. Many in his age group also struggle with unemployment, Somnath says. A majority of Ladewadi’s residents and nearby villages go to Alephata (the village Ale at the intersection of Nagar-Kalyan and Pune-Nashik highways) to work in the onion fields there. Most of them make 2-3 trips a year to these fields for about two months at a time.

“Alephata is like MIDC [Maharashtra Industrial Development Corporation] for us,” says Somnath. “We work two or three weeks a month for a daily wage of 300-350 rupees. Otherwise, we go to Mumbai or Thane city to work on construction sites.”

The issues of unemployment remain on paper and in fact work in support of the project. The 2023 guidelines by the Ministry of Power claim: “Local industries such as cement and steel also get impetus and drive job creation in the economy. This in turn has a salutary effect on local area development. PSPs are an ideal investment for socio-economic and regional development considerations like infrastructure upgradation and employment generation.” Nowhere do the guidelines show any awareness of the role of an ‘ecologically friendly’ proposal in the loss of livelihoods and lifestyles of a community dependent on farms and forests.

Going by the guidelines these hardships would provide further justification for the construction of this Rs. 9,000 crore project with JSW Energy PSP Two Limited.

“These communities are directly dependent on natural resource rich areas; they are the first to get affected,” says Manasi Karandikar, a Pune-based ecologist and co-founder of Oikos, an organisation undertaking ecological restoration. “In such clean energy projects, the process of producing energy is clean but their [other] adverse environmental impacts are not counted.

“On the coastal side of the Western Ghats, where the PSP is to be constructed, high rainfall, laterite soil, and a hot and humid climate have resulted in rigorous growth of vegetation with good biodiversity and a sensitive ecosystem,” says Manasi. The environmental assessment for the project also recorded several highly protected species from Schedule I of the Wildlife (Protection) Act, 1972, on the proposed project site. These included panther, striped hyena, jackal and wolf among others. The assessment also recorded three ‘near threatened’ and two ‘vulnerable’ species of flora that inhabit this area.

“Soil erosion control, nutrient supply, [ground] water recharge are the ecological services these forests offer,” says Manasi. Loss of forest land would mean loss of these services too. Torrential rains in such conditions would lead to soil erosion and increase the risk of landslides. Especially worrisome given that in the decade preceding 2023, the Western Ghats had already lost 58.22 square kilometres of forest cover.

“Government people themselves casually say “he tar jungle aahe” [“this is a jungle”]. But the project is bound to happen. I don’t see any care in their words,” says Kashinath Agivale recalling some grim interactions with officials from the Thane collectorate office. He is the sarpanch of Jamunde village on the Nashik side of the project. “When a public hearing was conducted in January 2024, they said that we should give a gram sabha tharav [resolution]. And even if we didn’t, they would make it happen; there are orders from the Centre.”

Feelings of confusion and vulnerability flood Kashinath’s mind. “Ours is a small village. Even if we want to oppose it [the PSP], we can’t get support from everyone. At least compensation will be given.” Of that, he seems assured.

Nonetheless, Kashinath has concerns. He shares them as we walk towards the forest, accompanied by the soothing sound of flowing water. “There are many nadi-naale [rivulets, subterranean streams] here. The water comes from the hills. We also find fish in these waters.” In summers, the residents carry water from the streams and in monsoons, they catch the fish either to eat or sell. “With the dam, I think this natural flow will be obstructed. If the forest goes, all this will also go.”

“The 243 hectares forest is huge. We don’t have the land for compensatory afforestation,” says Manasi Karandikar, referring to the impact management plan which mentions compensatory afforestation of 268,114 saplings. “They will do afforestation in some other place.”

Such plans sound immature to Kake Songal of Ladewadi who is in her seventies. “How will you create the same forest somewhere else?” she asks. It would not be an exaggeration to say that she has tramped about every corner of this forest. “Jhaadaancha vay konala maait? [Who knows the age of these trees?] Humans have not planted them.”

Kake sits quietly in her one-room house. There is a pile of clothes visible, and a wall inscribed with names, numbers and drawings. She and her late husband Sakru built this house from the money they earned selling forest produce. “I collect mango, guava, jambul [Malabar plum], bor [jujube], palas [Butea monosperma] leaves, wild vegetables, and sell them in Kasara market. I make 50-100 rupees a day. Even birds and monkeys feed on those fruit trees. Some live on it. Haan!” She ensures we understand the value she places on the forest.

Lately, she has been unwell. The nearest primary health centre (PHC) is in Kasara town some 23 kilometres away. “I feel weak quite often. If possible, build one dawakhana [clinic] nearby where I can walk by myself,” she says, politely offering an alternative proposal to the government.

In August 2024, many public concerns over the project were summed up at a meeting of the expert appraisal committee (EAC) for river valley and hydroelectric projects. And the environmental clearance was deferred until JSW could provide additional information on soil samples, water availability and wildlife conservation plans. The company was also asked to submit an undertaking to ensure that water flows will not be stopped or blocked for filling the reservoir during monsoons.

“But will the company follow their own undertaking?” Kashinath is sceptical.

Other residents of the area have also brought up issues. “If the information is provided by JSW, will the project then be approved?” asked Baban Harne, Shahapur-based farmer and social activist. “And this is a Scheduled Area; yet, seeking approval of villagers is not even under consideration.”

The expert committee also decided to conduct a site visit before further consideration of the proposal. “But that seems to be a formality again,” says Himanshu Thakkar, coordinator of the South Asia Network on Dams, Rivers and People (SANDRP), an informal network working on issues related to rivers, communities and large-scale water infrastructure.

“See EAC has always been like that. It is a rubber stamping authority more or less. Its rejection rate is practically zero,” says Himanshu. “Even Adani’s Warangi-Warasgaon Pumped Storage Project in Pune; we had written to them [EAC] saying that this has a serious impact including on the community fishing conservation zone. They still approved it. It's very careless, the way they appraise the project, the way they look at the impacts.”

In a follow up meeting held on May 29, 2025, the EAC recommended the proposal for grant of prior environmental clearance by the ministry.

At the time of publishing, the JSW office and the expert appraisal committee had not responded to this reporter’s requests for comment.

It is ironic that such important ecological and social aspects play only a minimal role while India pursues its goal of a green future. Bhavali PSP is just one of the 164 potential projects identified across India, 36 of them in Maharashtra. In fact the Ministry of Power’s PSP promotion guidelines mention environmental clearance as “cumbersome” and a barrier to the development of PSPs.

Manasi says that uncontrolled development in ever increasing urban areas raises energy demands which put stress on semi-natural areas like these villages. “It’s a systemic fault,” she adds. Energy consumption in India has been unstoppable, growing from 5,610 gigawatt hours in 1950 to 1,440,310 gigawatt hours in 2024. And industries remain the largest consumers accounting for 41 per cent of total energy consumed.

Constantly changing weather conditions on which renewable energy sources like solar and wind depend, make regulating their output almost impossible. With an increasing number of such resources being connected to the power grid, energy storage options like PSPs are deemed necessary to maintain the stability of the grid. But experts say there are other, less disruptive alternatives which can be considered first.

“We need to question the whole idea of PSP,” says K. J. Joy, founding member and senior fellow at Society for Promoting Participative Ecosystem Management (SOPPECOM) in Pune. “There are better options like ensuring maximum peaking output [energy generation during periods of high demand] from current hydropower projects. And only after that think of PSP dams which have a catastrophic impact on the ecosystem.”

For all the talk of India’s growing energy resources, Yema and Somnath are yet to experience their benefits. “We got electricity in 2010 but with load shedding for more than eight hours [everyday], especially in summers and monsoons,” resting on the veranda of his house, Yema provides a reality check. “This is not your Mumbai with 24 hours light.”

Behind him, his house is lit up only by daylight entering through the door and windows. We catch a glimpse of a stationary ceiling fan and two bulbs, the only electrical fixtures in the house.

“All the light is for companies, cities. But it is produced here, in our area.”