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Correspondent

21 August 2024 at 10:20:16 am

Tearful Harvest

Despair once again prevails in Maharashtra’s onion belt as angry farmers have launched protests across Nashik, Sambhaji Nagar and Solapur in wake of onion prices crashing to absurdly low levels. For cultivators who spent months battling erratic weather, rising fertiliser costs and mounting debt, the arithmetic is devastating. At such prices, farmers are unable even to recover transportation costs, let alone repay loans or sustain their households. In the past, Governments in Delhi have risen...

Tearful Harvest

Despair once again prevails in Maharashtra’s onion belt as angry farmers have launched protests across Nashik, Sambhaji Nagar and Solapur in wake of onion prices crashing to absurdly low levels. For cultivators who spent months battling erratic weather, rising fertiliser costs and mounting debt, the arithmetic is devastating. At such prices, farmers are unable even to recover transportation costs, let alone repay loans or sustain their households. In the past, Governments in Delhi have risen and fallen over onion prices. In 1980, soaring onion prices contributed to public anger against the Janata Party government. In 1998, the BJP lost the Delhi Assembly elections amid voter fury over onions becoming prohibitively expensive. Few commodities possess such emotional resonance in Indian politics. Yet there is a cruel irony in India’s onion economy, namely that while consumers revolt when prices rise, farmers suffer when prices crash. Farmers in Maharashtra are demanding procurement at Rs. 32 per kg, while the state government has announced an assured procurement price of Rs. 1,580 per quintal. Leaders of the opposition Maha Vikas Aghadi have openly challenged the Mahayuti government to show where procurement at those rates was actually taking place. Yet the crisis illustrates a larger structural failure that no emergency meeting can fully conceal. India’s onion economy remains trapped in a cycle of volatility. When production dips, governments rush to ban exports, impose stock limits and flood markets with imports to calm urban consumers. But when production surges, farmers are abandoned to market collapses. The result is a deeply distorted agricultural ecosystem where cultivators bear the risks while political actors chase short-term electoral optics. Maharashtra, which accounts for a substantial share of India’s onion production, has witnessed such turmoil repeatedly. The protests of 2018, when farmers dumped onions on roads in Nashik after prices crashed below cultivation costs, should have served as a warning. They did not. Nor did earlier agitations led by the Shetkari Sanghatana in the 1980s and 1990s, which highlighted the asymmetry between urban-centric policymaking and agrarian realities. The present crisis is especially troubling because it strikes at a moment of already fragile rural sentiment. Farmer indebtedness remains acute. Climate variability has made cultivation increasingly precarious while input costs have risen steadily. Against this backdrop, a market collapse becomes a social issue, feeding anger, migration and, in the worst cases, suicides. The answer lies not in episodic procurement announcements or reactive subsidies, but in deeper reforms. India requires better agricultural storage infrastructure, predictable export policies and decentralised food-processing networks that can absorb production gluts. Most importantly, policymakers must stop treating farmers merely as electoral constituencies to be placated during crises. The onion has often moved governments because it affects the urban middle class. But a republic that ignores the tears of those who grow it risks a far deeper reckoning.

Bharat’s Jetson Cities, Light-years Away from Nature

Updated: Jan 20, 2025

Jetson Cities

One thing is for certain: our Bharatiya cities, the big metros and towns, are fast becoming like the ‘Jetson’ cities. For those who are unaware of Jetson cities, these were first shown in the famous Hanna-Barbera cartoon series, the Jetsons, set in the 2100s, where cities are air-tight glass globules tethered to the ground, and the only way to get in and out are the flying cars. Yes, we, the city-dwellers, aspire to tall skyscrapers, spectacular bridges, world-class tunnels, swooshing metro trains, and we are building Jetson-like flying cars. A few HD drone images here and there, during the day and at night and around twilight, and we are content that our cities have become the cynosure of our own eyes. We want our cities to be brightly lit, with neon signs, laser shows, and large billboard videos. We would then fulfil our inner desire to have a city on par with Tokyo, New York, and Shanghai.


Our buildings, designed for the next 30 years, are well air-conditioned, shielding occupants from a soupy dust bowl of brown smog, soot, particulate matter, and fine dust. It is said that most new home buyers invest at least 10% of their property’s price in enhancing the interiors, soundproofing their homes, using air purifiers and conditioners, and disconnecting from the outside world for that much-needed solace. Indeed, large builders promote their projects as close to nature amidst tranquillity. However, there is always another builder eager to get one plot of land ahead of yours to enjoy that nature. To be truthful, access to nature now comes at a premium - even the skies.


Let’s assume the working-age population is occupied in the leisure of our Jetson cities, but how many of their young school and college-going kids have seen the long arm of the Milky Way galaxy from their cities? How many have witnessed a comet zooming by? How many know about endemic plants with medicinal properties? When did they last see a chirping house sparrow? How many know that the nearest sewage drain was once a freshwater stream? When did they last find their suburban beach prettier than the resort beaches of Maldives?


The intent to ask these questions is simple: Bharat is currently at a crossroads. Pundits are enthusiastic about a cultural renaissance on the horizon. Corporate leaders, on the other hand, want us to invest hundreds of hours each week to pay our dues to the growth of the national GDP. But no one asks, if a cultural renaissance is to occur, who will generate the new understandings and insights of nature that arise typically during such a period of human advancement? No one is actually asking, for whom are we building the nation if there is no time for children, or worse, if there is no time or intent to have children. In the process of growing rich, we are about to become old. By 2047, 65% of the population under the age of 35 will grow beyond 35 all at once, and we’d have an enormous population in advanced ages with a tapering young population, a graph that looks like a banyan tree. Unfortunately, that young population will have no access to the knowledge that nature has to offer, neither flora and fauna nor the seas and the skies.


Our urbane lifestyles need tempering. Such tempering can occur only if we ensure the revival of natural sciences during this period of cultural renaissance and nation-building. Let’s not rely solely on the educational system. With Indian Knowledge Systems, constructive changes are underway, and academic curricula are poised to improve for the greater good. However, true knowledge arises only when parents and grandparents introduce children to nature. Genuine understanding also develops from extracurricular activities in schools and colleges that encourage kids to observe, journal, and act on their discoveries. On the positive side, our country’s forest cover is increasing, as announced by the government. However, efforts must be made to ensure that every school or college, whether in Mumbai, Vijayawada, Gorakhpur, Ratlam, Thrissur, Bhuj, Faridabad, Imphal, Manali, Cuttack, or Ajmer, guarantees that their students are well aware of the endemic nature of their surroundings and are regularly observing and recording data on whatever interests them. Let kids observe rivers and understand the volume of water that flows through them. Let children learn about the decline of house sparrows in their cities and what steps should be taken to revive their populations. Let them study the bees in their nearby groves and recognise the vital role these bees play in nature.


Of course, you need to learn AI, robotics, fintech, the next generation of management courses, and all the engineering bells and whistles. However, we must not leave the next generation with inadequate comprehension and skills for understanding nature. We must ensure that nature conservation is not merely lip service or a tool for politicised green activists. This can be achieved if natural sciences are given the respect they deserve at the school, undergraduate, and postgraduate levels.


Indeed, I am a plebeian, and you might feel that you, too, could write a rant about the plight of our urban lives. Urban development and municipal experts have many solutions to propose, but few are willing to take action. However, that is not the issue I wish to highlight. I aim to illustrate a much larger concern—that Indian city dwellers are disoriented and devoid of nature, lacking a guiding star to lead them toward a brighter future. Our cities of Mumbai, Delhi, Bengaluru, Ahmedabad, Kolkata, and Chennai have taken on characteristics reminiscent of Jetson-like cities. We show little regard for the Nagar Devata, Gram Devata, and Van Devata, who have protected the cities, towns, and forests that once surrounded us. We wait for formal governance to clean up our beaches, rivers, and ponds without making sufficient efforts to prevent pollution in the first place.


For those striving to grasp spirituality not through the Puranas and Aadi-Granth but through new-age podcasts, I recommend watching Vinay Varanasi’s podcast on Bhagavan Vishnu’s Dashavatar. If it is clear that Bhagavan Vishnu does not tolerate disregard for Bhudevi or Mother Earth, why do we, the devotees of Bhagavan Vishnu, continue to pollute our Mother Earth—her air, soil, waters, and sounds? Or have we taken Elon Musk's words at face value, assuming our next destination is Mars after destroying Earth, only to ruin Mars later, even worse than its current clinically sterile state? If that is the case, then bear with me when I say this: these Jetson cities stand on precarious pillars of ego, victimhood, apathy, and consumerism, waiting to be toppled either by the true harbingers of order or by false prophets. Therefore, teach the next generations to observe nature, appreciate our coexistence with other species, and venerate the forces of nature. By doing so, we humans will be good, at least for the next thousand years. If not, prepare for a bleak future by the end of this century.


(The author is a Space and Emerging Technology Fellow at the Centre for Security, Strategy and Technology, Observer Research Foundation, Mumbai. Views personal.)

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