Jaideep Hardikar

Sharmila Joshi

Editor

large_01-DSC02950-JH.jpg

medium_01-DSC02950-JH.jpg

small_01-DSC02950-JH.jpg

thumbnail_01-DSC02950-JH.jpg

01-DSC02950-JH.jpg

Prahlad Dhoke is trying to save his cows. But to do that, he’ll have
to let his three-acre guava orchard die.

“It’s a trade off,” says the 44-year-old, in tears, standing before
rows of 7 to 8-foot high guava plants. “I’ve expended everything, my savings,
gold… But now I can’t buy more water every day to save my plants. I chose to
save my cows. It’s a hard choice.”

Cows are hard to buy again once sold, and in early April a cattle camp
came up just outside his village, Vadgaon Dhok in Beed district,  as part of the Maharashtra government’s drought
relief measures. Prahlad’s 12 cows, including two Gir cows that he had bought from
a local market for Rs. 1 lakh each, have been shifted to the camp. But giving
up the plants means irreparable losses too. 

“My
eldest brother had gone to Lucknow four years ago,” he says, “he brought guava
saplings from there.” It took Prahlad and his family four years to raise the orchard.
But one really bad monsoon in 2018 after years of recurring drought and growing
water scarcity in the arid Marathwada region, was a challenge he could not
meet.While some tehsils in the state witness drought and scarcity every year, a severe pan-regional water scarcity started in Marathwada in the 2012-13 agricultural season (a failed 2012 monsoon triggered scarcity in the
summer of 2013), followed by 2014-15 and now 2018-19. While every summer brings water scarcity, since 2012,  Marathwada has reported a growing meteorological
drought (failure of monsoon), agricultural drought (failure of kharif and rabi
crops), and hydrological drought (groundwater depletion).

Vadgaon Dhok village is in Georai tehsil,
one of the 151 tehsils declared drought-hit by the Maharashtra
government in October 2018. Georai recorded less than 50 per cent rainfall from June to September 2018 –
 just 288 mm against the long-term average of 628 mm in that period
– according to data of the India Meteorological Department. In September, a crucial month for crops,
the rainfall was a mere 14.2 mm against the average of 170 mm.

Aurangabad division as a whole, with the eight districts that comprise
Marathwada, recorded around 488 mm rainfall against its long-term average of 721 mm from June to September 2018.
In September, the region
received barely 24 mm (or 14 per cent) rainfall against the long-term average
of 177 mm for that month.

The
poor 2018 monsoon meant a poor kharif harvest in October-December, and no rabi harvest
in February March this year. Though Dhoke had spent around Rs. 5 lakhs on a
drip-water system and on deepening his four dug wells (using some of his
savings, borrowing from a local agriculture cooperative and a private bank),
nothing worked.

Prahlad,
his two brothers and father together own 44 acres; 10 of these are in his name.
The family’s entire land is dry and arid. On an acre, three years ago, Prahlad
had planted mogra
– the fragrant summer flower. “We made good returns from flowers,”
he says, “but all those returns went into our farm.” And now the mogra
too has now dried up.

In the last 15 years, as the water scarcity in the region has deepened,
so have Dhoke’s efforts to counter it. He has tried different crops,
diversified techniques, given up planting sugarcane, invested in irrigation systems.
But, he says, every year, the aggravating water crisis keeps testing his
capabilities.

Prahlad’s four dug wells went dry in November 2018. From January
through April this year, he bought water at least twice a week – but a 5,000-litre
tanker that cost Rs. 500 rose to Rs. 800 (and was expected to climb to Rs. 1,000
by the end of May).

Water tankers are a common sight here throughout the year, and more so
in the summers. Marathwada is part of the Deccan region that rests on hard basalt
rock. This means not enough rainwater percolates into the ground and groundwater
aquifers don’t recharge enough. The region is also in the ‘rain-shadow’ zone,
with rainfall that usually does not exceed 600 mm. 

In Georai taluka though, intermittent sugarcane fields (some
landowners have still-working wells, others keep buying tanker water) stand in
contrast to vast stretches of barren land. Farms along the Godavari river in
this region also have standing orchards of grape and other fruits, as well as
green fodder crops. But further away from the river, on the upper plateau of
the Deccan, the vast dry swathes don’t show any signs of green life.

“I bought water for about three months,” Prahlad says, “but I ran out
of money.” He decided not to incur high-interest loans from private
moneylenders (since he would not have got bank loans to buy water) to save his
wilting guava orchard. “Rs. 800 for 5,000 litres! It’s simply not feasible. No
one in our village has that kind of money,” he says. “I will end up in debt and
like my plants I too won’t survive.”

In April, after trying to save his guava orchard from drying up, Dhoke
gave up. He is now waiting for the rains. But by the time it rains in June, his
orchard will have wilted, unable to withstand the summer heat.

The 1,100 fully grown guava plants would have fetched Prahlad between
Rs. 10 and Rs. 20 lakhs in the coming winter – guava plants yield fruits in the
fourth or fifth year after sowing. After all expenses, he would have made a
robust profit. Some plants bore small fruit, but the heat turned them as black
as dry charcoal. “Look at these,” he says, walking through fallen dry leaves
holding a branch with dried fruits, “they just did not sustain.”

Like
Dhoke, many in Marathwada are battling a deepening water crisis  “Across Beed, and certainly in this tehsil,
there was no kharif crop and no rabi too,” says 55-year-old Walmik Bargaje, a ‘sama-dukkhi’
(co-sufferer), as Dhoke puts it. Bargaje owns five acres and had planted
coconut on half an acre. Those plants dried up. He gave up trying to cultivate
sugarcane some time ago because of the water crisis. In June-July 2018, he had
planted soyabean, which did not yield any returns, he says. And with no rabi sowing,
he could not grow jowar and bajra, which he usually cultivates as fodder
for his cattle.In Beed district, as of June 3 this year, 933 cattle camps have been approved, of which only 603 are  functional, with 4,04,197 animals, according
to the Aurangabad Divisional Commissionerate. Aurangabad division’s eight
districts have a total of 750 operational cattle camps though 1,140 have been granted
approval, the data show. Parbhani, Nanded and Latur districts don’t have a
single cattle camp, either approved or operating. Across Maharashtra
over a million cattle heads are being given water and fodder in 1,540
cattle camps in 10 worst drought-affected districts, according to the
information available at the state&#39;s Department of Revenue.

Dhoke blames the BJP-led government in Maharashtra for many things,
but most of all because he says the state government discriminated between its
supporters and critics. “Villagers who are close to the BJP got loan waivers
and fresh loans,” he alleges, “I did not get it because I have been a supporter
of the rival party. I see the same treatment in distribution of drought
relief.”Prahlad and his wife Deepika, a farmer and homemaker, have three
children – Dnyaneshwari has completed Class 12, Narayan is in Class 10, while
the youngest son, Vijay, has started Class 7. “Tyanna shikavnar bagha me [I will educate them],” he says. But he has been unable to pay Vijay’s school fee (of around
Rs. 20,000 for the 2018-19 academic session in a local private school) due to
which his results have been stalled. “This past week one of my cows has been
ailing,” he says. “I had to spend a lot of money on its treatment.” The act of balancing the expenses is exhausting – keeping his
livestock alive along with juggling his family’s needs. “These are hard times,”
he says, “but I know these will pass.”Meanwhile, across Marathwada, tanks, surface water storage, small and
medium dams, dug wells and borewells are all slowly drying up. As the summer
peaks, for thousands, it’s a daily desperation for water in this belt. Many Marathwada
families have migrated to Aurangabad, Pune or Mumbai, or are preparing to
leave. Fishing communities are reeling, as are pastoralists with livestock.
























Prahlad says he has not slept in days. He hasn’t visited his orchard,
around a kilometre from his house, in days too, and flits between the cattle
camp and his home across the highway. “I work for 16 hours a day,” he says,
walking through his forlorn farm. But what do you do, he wonders, when you just
run out of money and water.

Prahlad's painful choice: cows or guavas?

গরু না পেয়ারা? দোলাচলে দীর্ণ প্রহ্লাদ

પ્રહલાદની પસંદગીની પીડા: ગાય કે જામફળ?

பிரஹலாத்தின் வலி மிகுந்த தேர்வு: பசுவா அல்லது கொய்யாப் பழமா?

प्रह्लादासमोरील यक्षप्रश्न : गाई की पेरू?

গাই বচাব নে মধুৰিআম, বিপাঙত প্ৰহ্লাদ

प्रह्लाद के लिए कठिन विकल्प: गाय या अमरूद?

پرہلاد کے لیے مشکل متبادل: گائے یا امرود؟

ପ୍ରହଲାଦର କଷ୍ଟଦାୟକ ପସନ୍ଦ : ଗାଇ ବା ପିଜୁଳି ?

Vadgaon Dhok

At present, we can only accept donations in Indian rupees by Indian citizens. All donations made to the CounterMedia Trust are eligible for exemption under Section 80G of the Income Tax Act, 1961. Here is a copy of our exemption certificate.


India is bigger than New Delhi. And people need to know more about the rest of this vast nation.


Younger, media-saturated generations are growing up knowing little about their country, but a lot about the elites of a few metros and towns. For a narrowly-owned, commercially-driven media, the dumbing down of a nation is part of standard operating procedure. The last available data of the Centre for Media Studies (CMS, Delhi) show us that reports from New Delhi account for 66 per cent of news on the front pages of major dailies. The CMS data also found that just about 0.24 per cent of front page news came out of rural India. The TV channels are not much better.PARI exists to change that.We are a non-profit organisation. We publish under creative commons, and do not charge readers a subscription fee or put-up advertisements. Nothing is behind a paywall and we are completely free-to-access by anyone. We guard our independence and receive no direct grants from governments and corporations, nor any funding that could dictate our content. So, we are dependent on volunteer labour, donations from individuals, foundations and institutions that see value in independent and free media.PARI is changing the way Indian journalism reports and documents the rural.India is more than the elite of a few metros and towns. We report on rural lives and livelihoods, languages, communities, migrants and more. We need your help to pull off this most ambitious of Indian journalistic endeavours. The scale of this effort costs money. Donate generously - and spread the word about PARI.&nbsp;

Donate FAQs


Let’s get you acquainted

Welcome to PARI

All our content is, and will forever be free to consume. If you enjoy our work, you can support us by becoming a volunteer or by donating to help fund our work.

Want to republish this article? Please write to <a href="mailto:zahra@ruralindiaonline.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">zahra@ruralindiaonline.org</a> with a cc to <a href="mailto:namita@ruralindiaonline.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">namita@ruralindiaonline.org</a>

Prahlad's painful choice: cows or guavas?

An escalating drought in Marathwada has left even relatively big farmers struggling to stay afloat, trying to buy water for crops and cattle, and giving up when the money runs out, as it has for many in Beed district

Related stories

A rain-scented walk in Sivagangai

Living on ravaged land

Biswas and the bamboos on his bike

Recycling energy, Godda style

Bhadels of Goa

Pookadai: still throbbing with morning life

Koli Kadlas

Malnourishment high among children of migrants: study

Wheels of the rural Indian West

Living Under a Red Cloud in Bellary

Vedla – earrings of the Maher community

Dreaming of water, drowning in debt

Kali: the dancer and his dreams

Farmer's diet worse than a convict's

In Yavatmal, life goes on

Suicides are about the living, not the dead

Death of a carpenter

Hoisa Shigmo!

Women farmers: weaving a life in Anantapur

Defiant in Dhinkia

Spice and all that's nice

Kerala's Green Army

The ‘jugaad’ not-a-mobile

Health as someone else's wealth

Calibrating in a Kudumbashree assembly unit