The desert farming revival feeding thousands in Rajasthan

In 1994, Ghazi Ram was covered in sand from head to toe, parched with thirst. Armed with a spade and stick, he had spent hours clearing the roads for Indian Army convoys in Rajasthan’s Jaisalmer district. The desert landscape, notorious for its relentless month-long sandstorms, frequently blocked the paths and wheels of the convoy.

That day, Ram’s pocket was heavy with sand, and the coins that made up his meager wage of 10 rupees barely made a sound. The 70-year-old farmer belongs to the Bhil tribe, an indigenous community in Rajasthan that once lived in forests and relied on hunting for survival. The Bhils worshipped Lord Shiva, among other deities.

By 2006, Ram had returned to his village, Ekal Par, located about 60 kilometres from the Indo-Pak border. Over the next three years, he dedicated himself to reviving khadeen, his ancestral land. No longer a labourer, he reclaimed the traditional knowledge that had once been lost with the destruction of the khadeens.

Khadeens are desert lands cultivated using an ancient method that harnesses the natural, balanced cycles of the year. This traditional practice is known as "khadeen farming."

"Neither my father, nor did I know what to do with this land [19 hectares] until 2006 when Chhatar Singh taught me that if revived, I could cultivate it," Ram told FairPlanet, adding that he did not believe in the idea that a land in the desert could grow crops and vegetables.  

Chhatar Singh, a 63-year-old conservationist, has dedicated over 40 years of his life to reviving khadeens. He did so along with the Sambhaav Trust, a local NGO. He encouraged farmers to reconnect with the natural cycles of the desert and empowered them to embrace ancient wisdom.

It is through the khadeens that the people of this region have been able to survive the harsh climate and an annual rainfall of just 100mm.

One of the main reasons indigenous farming practices became distorted was social neglect. The lure of a better future in the cities was another factor. Additionally, the availability of canal-irrigated fields in nearby areas tempted large-scale farmers to abandon the khadeens.

It wasn’t just Ram - no one believed in Chhatar Singh at first. "We thought the idea of cultivating khadeens was crazy," he recalled. "But when I saw the first sapling grow, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I literally jumped in disbelief."

'no land is barren'

"Reality is crazier than the idea of reality," Ram added. "When I informed [Chhatar Singh] about the sapling, both of us burst into laughter out of sheer happiness."

In the late 1980s, when Ram was preparing for his wedding, his father approached a local trader from the Bania community, known for hoarding grains, to request some coriander. The trader refused to give him the spice.

"He taunted my father and told him, 'you belong to the Bhils, why would you add coriander in the food. You have survived thus far without knowing what delicious food tastes like, and you can continue to do so.' That insult has remained with me."

The indigenous community has a tradition of offering crops to those in need, including individuals with disabilities and widowed women.

Over 410,000 Bhils live in Rajasthan. "Out of around 700,000 people in the district, over 100,000 are now able to eat three meals a day throughout the year. Around 22,000 households receive food supplies from the khadeens. This is all because the khadeens have been revived," Chhatar Singh told FairPlanet.

The total area of all khadeens in the state is approximately 4,550 hectares, with around 250 of the district's 744 villages having khadeens. "No land is barren," Singh added, emphasising that the khadeens are proof of this belief. There are over 650 khadeens in Jaisalmer alone, more than 200 of which have been revived.

The process

There are two ways to identify land suitable for khadeens: First, by following wild camels, which feed on local plants like Roa’an and track them by their scent. Second, by locating naturally grown local plants such as Jhillaun and Shankhpushpi (Convolvulus pluricaulis).

The revival process begins once the land is identified. First, farmers work to stop and collect the sand that flows through the fields during the summer. They achieve this by laying down trees and other obstacles to block the sand’s movement.

Here, during the summer, the southwest winds cause sand to flow like water in flood-affected areas. Once the sand is collected and the frequent summer storms subside, cultivators plant desert trees along the embankments to reinforce them.

"If managed properly, we could establish khadeens every five kilometers across the district, which receives just 150mm of annual rainfall - the lowest in the country," Singh said.

When it rains, water is collected in the land and stored for about two months, from August to October. By winter, most of the water has percolated, leaving the topsoil muddy and ready for cultivation.

The groundwater system in this desert landscape consists of two layers. The first, found 10 to 15 feet below the surface, is composed of impervious gypsum, limestone and other stones. The second is the general groundwater, which is salty and located much deeper. These layers remain separate, as the gypsum acts as a barrier, preventing further rainwater percolation.

In November, farmers sow seeds in the moist topsoil, where water from the monsoon has percolated and settled. Harvesting takes place in March and April, with no use of fertiliser or urea during the growing season.

Traditionally, crops are never manually irrigated. In winter, the cold topsoil and the warmth of the earth below cause the stored water to evaporate, providing natural moisture to the plant roots.

Khadeen farming is viable with as little as 100 mm of annual rainfall. However, over the past two years, weather patterns have shifted. The monsoon, which once began in July, now starts in August.

Additionally, the frequency of rainfall has decreased - it rains heavily but for shorter periods. A third change is the appearance of winter rains, which were previously nonexistent. This is the face of climate change in the desert.

One benefit of this shift is the excess rain, which has allowed people to grow more crops over larger areas.

In other parts of India, such as Maharashtra, farmers face tragic outcomes, including suicide, due to insufficient rainfall and indifferent government policies. "The methods used in khadeen farming could reduce losses in drought-prone areas and help mitigate the human-driven climate crisis," said Singh, adding that this approach could also be replicated in other desert regions.

Farmers in the khadeens grow wheat, gram, mustard, cumin, spinach, carrots, radishes and other vegetables, all through organic farming. "I’ve eaten spinach grown in my own khadeen," Ram proudly shared. The Bhils also rear sheep, goats and cows, with these animals benefiting from the water and food provided by the khadeens.

Beris, or water wells found in the khadeens, are an integral part of the system. Over 200 beris have also been revived. Once recharged by monsoon rains, these wells retain water year-round. The water is naturally sweet, cold and rich in minerals.

"Beris never go dry and our thirst is quenched in the desert, all thanks to khadeens," said Sumar Ram, a 50-year-old farmer from Ekal Par village. He used to work as a labourer. "I would make roads in the villages and clean the road-rollers with wet clothes when asphalt used to stick to their wheels," he told FairPlanet. 

In 2003, his average daily earnings were just 40 rupees. "My back would hurt the entire night. My fingers had bruises and they swelled during the night from rubbing the hot iron wheels of the rollers. I worked during the day and cried at night in pain," he shared. 

Khadeen, he said, came as a lifeline. 

Sumar Ram now cultivates 12 hectares of land, earning over 250,000 rupees from selling gram and wheat.

Another farmer, 30-year-old Raju Ram, revived his 12 hectares of land last year. In 2023, he earned approximately 350,000 rupees from it.

"I had never thought I would be able to smile," he told FairPlanet. 

Ghazi Ram is smiling as well, drenched from head to toe. This year, the rains have been abundant. With his spade and sticks set aside, he steps into the water.

Image by Amir Malik.