When Clean Water Becomes a Luxury
Safe drinking water must never be a luxury. It must be a certainty for every Indian, without the struggle to find it or the fear of running out.

Tonight, two Indians will drink water. One will open a refrigerator, take out a chilled bottle and pay for water that was once freely available in nature. The other will walk some distance, fill a container and carry it home, hoping that what looks clean is actually safe to drink.
Between these two glasses lies one of our most uncomfortable contradictions. We live in a land of rivers and monsoons, lakes and wells, dams and canals. Yet access to safe drinking water remains deeply unequal. For some, water is bottled, branded, filtered and delivered to the doorstep. For millions, securing a safe supply remains a daily struggle, shaped by distance, availability and uncertainty. What should be a basic right is increasingly becoming a commodity.
It was against this reality that the Jal Jeevan Mission (JJM) emerged with a deceptively simple question: why should people travel to water when water can travel to them? But bringing tap water to every rural home is far more difficult than it sounds. Pipelines must cross mountains and deserts, forests and floodplains, scattered habitations and difficult terrain. They must serve areas where groundwater is abundant as well as those where underground reserves are steadily depleting.
The progress of JJM deserves recognition, and failures deserve detailed study. And yet, somewhere along the way, the scale of what JJM attempted and achieved has been overshadowed by criticism of what remains unfinished. That deserves a closer look.
Before JJM, only about 3.23 crore rural households, roughly 17 per cent, had tap water connections. By March 2026, that number had risen to about 15.82 crore, or nearly 82 per cent of rural households. That is not the story of a small infrastructure programme. It is the story of attempting to change the daily reality of tens of millions of families across one of the world's most geographically and socially diverse countries. Yet JJM is sometimes dismissed because every tap does not yet provide perfect, uninterrupted service.
There is a legitimate point here. A tap without water is merely plumbing. But this is precisely where the assessment can become unfair. Should a transformation of this magnitude be called unsuccessful because the final mile is still being completed? An independent functionality assessment covering nearly 2.38 lakh households found tap connections in 98.1 per cent of households in surveyed Har Ghar Jal villages; 86.5 per cent had working connections, 80.2 per cent received adequate quantity and 83.6 per cent received water regularly according to schedule.
The honest conclusion, therefore, is neither triumphalism nor dismissal. JJM is not the end of India's water story. It is the beginning of a much larger one. But the true learning is that India needs more missions of such scale. What we need now is a generation of water missions, each addressing a different part of the same crisis. One to bring dying ponds, lakes and traditional water bodies back to life. Another to recharge groundwater, the invisible reservoir on which so much of the country depends. Yet another to transform agriculture so that we grow more with every drop, because the greatest water savings may ultimately happen not at the household tap, but in the field. Our cities need their own initiatives to ensure that every drop is used more than once.
The beauty of a mission-based approach is that it turns an overwhelming crisis into achievable national goals. Water demands patience, planning and permanence. And it's never merely about water. Every hour saved from collecting it can become an hour of education or productive work. Every illness prevented saves a family and the economy a cost. Water security is therefore about health, livelihoods, agriculture, cities, ecology, and ultimately, dignity. JJM has demonstrated that India can attempt a water transformation at an extraordinary scale.
The dream is simple: a country where no family buys bottled water because it fears its tap. Where no woman spends hours searching for water. Where no village waits anxiously to discover whether its source will survive another summer.
Only then will clean water stop being a luxury and quietly become what it was always meant to be: an everyday certainty.
(The writer is a bilingual author. Views personal.)






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