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SUNDAY HINDUSTAN TIMES, MUMBAI JUNE 29, 2014 15 | IN RURAL JALNA, RESIDENTS ARE BUYING WATER BY THE LITRE FROM 'WATER TRADERS', AS TAPS STAY DRY FOR UP TO TWO WEEKS AT A TIME SPOTLIGHT SPOTLIGHT LYING IN WAIT The rains should be here by now, bringing relief to parched villagers and watering fields. Instead, the dark clouds are missing and anxiety is turning to desperation. A look at the preparations and prayers in Jalna, in the state’s lowest rainfall zone, and Mahabaleshwar, its highest. By Riddhi Doshi T he indoor season has begun in Mahabaleshwar taluka. As the rains lash this scenic hill sta- tion in Satara district, residents will lock themselves inside for days at a stretch. But first, usually by mid- June, the preparations begin. People paste plastic sheets over entire windows. Homes, shops, restaurants and hotels are boarded up with homemade hay panels. “Mahabaleshwar gets the highest rain- fall in the state,” says KS Hosalikar, head of the Indian Meteorological Department in the western region. Schools take a one-month monsoon break, from July to August; tourism, the mainstay of the area, dwindles to just 20%. Local businesses operate only for a few hours a day. It will be this way until the heaviest rains begin to retreat, in mid-August. Making the most of this forced vacation, shopkeepers and local businessmen go on family vacations during this time. “We go anywhere with less rain,” says shopkeeper Umesh Bowlekar, 28, laughing. With supplies scarce, residents usually stock up on large amounts of wheat, rice and foodgrains, and on coal and firewood. “We’ve stocked up on 70 kg of coal and an equal amount of wood,” says retired educa- tion officer Ramchandra Vaikar, 58, who lives in Kumbharoshi village with his son, daughter-in-law and two grandchildren. Firewood is carefully wrapped in a plastic and stacked in an extra-dry corner. It will be essential for cooking — it’s difficult to go out and buy coal or get firewood in this season — for warming the home in case of power outages, and even for drying clothes. Warm and dry, with food enough for the season, the one worry becomes how to keep the children and grandchildren occupied on the long monsoon days. “With no electricity for hours at a time and mundane food, it’s a task keeping them from getting cranky,” says Vaikar's wife Babytai, 60, a homemaker. So granddaughter Priyanka and her friend Ashwini Sawant, 17, get together and play carrom and Ludo. “We play again and again and again,” says Priyanka. “By the end of monsoon, we could participate in a world carom championship.” A more serious problem is the money incurred in treating family members from the frequent fevers, chills and occasion- ally malaria. There is also considerable expense in both preparing for the mon- soon and repairing the damage it causes. “We end up spending about Rs 25,000, sometimes even more, to fix up the house after each rainy season,” says Babytai. This includes fresh plastering and scrub- bing moss off the roof. This family is lucky, though. Neither Ramchandra’s pension nor his son’s sal- ary as a government teacher are cut dur- ing these non-working months. Asif Patel, 35, of Nakinda village is less fortunate. Come rain or shine, he and his three brothers must operate their roasted corn business. “We create a roof of umbrellas and roast our bhutta under- neath,” says Patel. “Thankfully, these days there are at least a few adventurous youngsters even in the monsoon, to buy our corn.” Those laid off from work at hotels, restaurants and resorts also go without pay during this season. For Sandeep Ranjhan, 37, and Shatrugan Vaikar, 37, though, monsoon is peak season. These self-taught handy- men run an informal business in help- ing people wrap up their houses, shops and hotels. “This is the best time of year for us,” says Ranjhan, grinning. “Every day, we get at least eight to ten calls. Often, we even have to turn down work.” This time, however, the rains are so late that Mahabaleshwar’s 58,000 paddy farmers are beginning to worry. “We have sown our seeds and are now waiting,” says Lakshman Vaikar, 72, of Warad vil- lage. “If it doesn’t rain soon, we could be in serious trouble.” T he rich and poor alike are buying water in Jalna district, paying as much as Rs 7 per litre. It’s June 26 and the monsoon is nearly three weeks late. Jalna is part of Marathwada, that massive area that lies, parched, in Maharashtra’s rain- shadow region. There have been 24 droughts here over the past 113 years — that’s an incidence of more than one every four years. “It’s the highest incidence of drought in Maharashtra,” says KS Hosalikar, head of the Indian Meteorological Department in the western region. Trading in water had become so lucra- tive, in fact, that people were giving up jobs in Jalna city to either dig borewells of their own or draw on private borewells for a price and sell the water at a mark-up. Traders are granted access in exchange for about half a paise per litre drawn, and must incur costs of labour and transport. Every family that can afford it is a customer, because there is no water at the public taps for up to two weeks at a time. As groundwater levels dip, however, even water traders have taken a hit. This year, the situation is so grim that those with stocks in their private borewells are no longer willing to sell. Former taxi driver Sanjay Harbak, 35, for instance, sunk his 150-metre-deep borewell in Badnapur village five years ago and granted 40 water traders access. This year, he has slashed that number to just five traders. “Until last year I had water at 80 metres at all times. This year, it’s below the 100-metre mark,” he says. In a district where agriculture is the mainstay, the missing monsoon spells doom for the area’s 3.71 lakh farmers. “We finished sowing by May 15 because the rains usually arrive by June 7. Now those seeds are dead,” says Babarao Nagve, 52, of Somdhana village. Yield on Nagve’s 11-acre farm has dropped by 50% over two years. “This year, I might have to sell part of my plot to meet expenses,” he says. With no rain and no grass, Nagve's 10 heads of cattle are in jeopardy too. In neighbouring Badnapur, livestock own- er Bhimrao Shinde, 65, has sold two of his five buffaloes to a butcher. “I bought them for Rs 40,000 each five years ago, and sold them for Rs 7,000 each,” he says. “They were going to starve to death. It was my only option.” The butcher has made a killing. “Last year, I bought ten animals for Rs 15,000 each in this period,” says Sheikh Qureshi, 50. “This year I have bought 15 animals, each priced at about Rs 8,500.” PARCHED For those who cannot afford to buy water, the day revolves around finding it. Farm labourers Sangita, 28, and Mohan Bhidve, 30, live in Badnapur village with their 12-year-old son and 10-year-old daugh- ter. They walk 2 km every day and then wait about two hours for their turn at the com- munal well. Even this water is filthy because levels have dipped so low — and water is now only pumped out once every 10 to 15 days. In Manjhar village, the scarcity was so acute that the panchayat bought a private well 10 days ago and began pumping water into the common well. Levels were so low that the water was contami- nated and four families hos- pitalised with gastroenteritis. Dr SS Budhane, who runs a private hospital, says he treats at least five cases of water- borne diseases a day. “One average, at least one of those daily cases is serious and has to be admitted,” he says. In Jalna city too, the situation is acute. “There have been cases of physical assault over water,” says a local policeman. “Water for us is as pre- cious as gold,” adds home- maker Manjri Ranjnekar, 35. Homemaker Manjri Ranjnekar poses with her padlocked storage tank outside her home in Jalna city. Most families lock their tanks to prevent theft. Schoolchildren rush home from school in the rain. Schools in Mahabaleshwar have a one- month monsoon vacation, from July to August. (Left) Babytai Vaikar, 60, a homemaker from Kumbharoshi village, demonstrates how a cane basket positioned over a tray of burning coal acts as a heated clothes rack to help dry clothes in the monsoon. Her family of six uses 2 kg of coal, worth Rs 50, every day during the rains just to dry clothes. (Above) Umesh Bowlekar, 28, plays a game of marbles with other shopkeepers outside his ice-cream and snack store opposite Mahabaleshwar Lake. The store front has been draped in plastic to withstand the lashing rains. (Top) Workers at a go-karting centre near Mahabaleshwar Lake hose down the recreational vehicles after a heavy downpour. The go-karting centre is shut, as is the paddleboat centre adjoining the lake, as tourism plummets to 20% of normal volumes here during the stormy monsoons. Waman Barvadkar, 75, is in despair over the state of his 2.5-acre farm in Manjhar village, Jalna. With the monsoon already three weeks late here, deep fissures have formed in the packed dry earth. (Below left) One of the many dry wells in Badnapur village. HT PHOTOS: VIJAYANAND GUPTA MAHABALESHWAR JALNA A cow licks at a dry water pump in Badnapur. The lack of water and grass has forced farmers to sell cattle to butchers. Jalna Mahabaleshwar Mumbai Maharashtra INDIA Area 7,612 sq km 52 sq km Average annual rainfall Total population Number of farmers FACT FILE Jalna district Mahabaleshwar taluka 728 mm 5,886 mm 13.04 lakh 72,830 43,698 Primary occupation Agriculture Tourism 3.71 lakh

Lying in Wait

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While we desperately await rains, here are stories from the wettest and the driest place in Maharashtra.

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Page 1: Lying in Wait

SUNDAY HINDUSTAN TIMES, MUMBAIJUNE 29, 2014 15|

IN RURAL JALNA, RESIDENTS ARE BUYING WATER BY THE LITRE FROM'WATER TRADERS', AS TAPS STAY DRY FOR UP TO TWO WEEKS AT A TIME

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LYING IN WAITThe rains should be here by now, bringing relief to parched villagers and wateringfields. Instead, the dark clouds are missing and anxiety is turning to desperation. A look at the preparationsand prayers in Jalna, in the state’s lowest rainfall zone, and Mahabaleshwar, its highest. By Riddhi Doshi

The indoor season has begun inMahabaleshwar taluka. As therains lash this scenic hill sta-tion in Satara district, residentswill lock themselves inside for days at a stretch.

But first, usually by mid-June, the preparations begin.People paste plastic sheets overentire windows. Homes, shops,

restaurants and hotels are boarded upwith homemade hay panels.

“Mahabaleshwar gets the highest rain-fall in the state,” says KS Hosalikar, headof the Indian Meteorological Departmentin the western region.

Schools take a one-month monsoonbreak, from July to August; tourism, themainstay of the area, dwindles to just20%. Local businesses operate only for a few hours a day. It will be this way untilthe heaviest rains begin to retreat, inmid-August.

Making the most of this forced vacation,shopkeepers and local businessmen go onfamily vacations during this time. “We goanywhere with less rain,” says shopkeeperUmesh Bowlekar, 28, laughing.

With supplies scarce, residents usually stock up on large amounts of wheat, riceand foodgrains, and on coal and firewood.

“We’ve stocked up on 70 kg of coal and anequal amount of wood,” says retired educa-tion officer Ramchandra Vaikar, 58, who lives in Kumbharoshi village with his son,daughter-in-law and two grandchildren.

Firewood is carefully wrapped in a plasticand stacked in an extra-dry corner. It will beessential for cooking — it’s difficult to go outand buy coal or get firewood in this season— for warming the home in case of power outages, and even for drying clothes.

Warm and dry, with food enough for the season, the one worry becomes how to keep the children and grandchildrenoccupied on the long monsoon days.

“With no electricity for hours at a timeand mundane food, it’s a task keeping themfrom getting cranky,” says Vaikar's wifeBabytai, 60, a homemaker.

So granddaughter Priyanka and herfriend Ashwini Sawant, 17, get togetherand play carrom and Ludo. “We play againand again and again,” says Priyanka. “Bythe end of monsoon, we could participatein a world carom championship.”

A more serious problem is the moneyincurred in treating family members fromthe frequent fevers, chills and occasion-ally malaria. There is also considerable expense in both preparing for the mon-soon and repairing the damage it causes. “We end up spending about Rs 25,000,sometimes even more, to fix up the houseafter each rainy season,” says Babytai.This includes fresh plastering and scrub-bing moss off the roof.

This family is lucky, though. NeitherRamchandra’s pension nor his son’s sal-ary as a government teacher are cut dur-ing these non-working months.

Asif Patel, 35, of Nakinda village is less fortunate. Come rain or shine, heand his three brothers must operate theirroasted corn business. “We create a roofof umbrellas and roast our bhutta under-neath,” says Patel. “Thankfully, thesedays there are at least a few adventurousyoungsters even in the monsoon, to buy our corn.” Those laid off from work at hotels, restaurants and resorts also gowithout pay during this season.

For Sandeep Ranjhan, 37, andShatrugan Vaikar, 37, though, monsoonis peak season. These self-taught handy-men run an informal business in help-ing people wrap up their houses, shopsand hotels.

“This is the best time of year for us,”says Ranjhan, grinning. “Every day, we get at least eight to ten calls. Often, weeven have to turn down work.”

This time, however, the rains are solate that Mahabaleshwar’s 58,000 paddy farmers are beginning to worry. “We have sown our seeds and are now waiting,”says Lakshman Vaikar, 72, of Warad vil-lage. “If it doesn’t rain soon, we could bein serious trouble.”

The rich and poor alike are buying water in Jalna district,paying as much as Rs 7 per litre.

It’s June 26 and the monsoonis nearly three weeks late.

Jalna is part of Marathwada,that massive area that lies, parched, in Maharashtra’s rain-shadow region. There have been24 droughts here over the past

113 years — that’s an incidence of more than one every four years.

“It’s the highest incidence of droughtin Maharashtra,” says KS Hosalikar, headof the Indian Meteorological Departmentin the western region.

Trading in water had become so lucra-tive, in fact, that people were giving upjobs in Jalna city to either dig borewellsof their own or draw on private borewellsfor a price and sell the water at a mark-up.

Traders are granted access in exchange for about half a paise per litre drawn, andmust incur costs of labour and transport.

Every family that can afford it is a customer, because there is no water at thepublic taps for up to two weeks at a time.

As groundwater levels dip, however, even water traders have taken a hit.

This year, the situation is so grimthat those with stocks in their private borewells are no longer willing to sell.

Former taxi driver Sanjay Harbak,35, for instance, sunk his 150-metre-deep borewell in Badnapur village five yearsago and granted 40 water traders access. This year, he has slashed that numberto just five traders. “Until last year I hadwater at 80 metres at all times. This year, it’s below the 100-metre mark,” he says.

In a district where agriculture is themainstay, the missing monsoon spellsdoom for the area’s 3.71 lakh farmers.

“We finished sowing by May 15 becausethe rains usually arrive by June 7. Now those seeds are dead,” says Babarao Nagve,52, of Somdhana village. Yield on Nagve’s 11-acre farm has dropped by 50% over two years. “This year, I might have to sell part

of my plot to meet expenses,” he says.With no rain and no grass, Nagve's 10

heads of cattle are in jeopardy too.In neighbouring Badnapur, livestock own-

er Bhimrao Shinde, 65, has sold two of hisfive buffaloes to a butcher. “I bought them for Rs 40,000 each five years ago, and sold themfor Rs 7,000 each,” he says. “They were goingto starve to death. It was my only option.”

The butcher has made a killing. “Lastyear, I bought ten animals for Rs 15,000each in this period,” says Sheikh Qureshi,50. “This year I have bought 15 animals, each priced at about Rs 8,500.”

PARCHEDFor those who cannot afford to buy

water, the day revolves around finding it.Farm labourers Sangita, 28, and Mohan

Bhidve, 30, live in Badnapur village withtheir 12-year-old son and 10-year-old daugh-ter. They walk 2 km every day and then waitabout two hours for their turn at the com-munal well. Even this water is filthy becauselevels have dipped so low — and water is now only pumped out once every 10 to 15 days.

In Manjhar village, the scarcity was soacute that the panchayat bought a private well 10 days ago and began pumping waterinto the common well. Levels were so low

that the water was contami-nated and four families hos-pitalised with gastroenteritis.

Dr SS Budhane, who runs a private hospital, says he treatsat least five cases of water-borne diseases a day. “Oneaverage, at least one of thosedaily cases is serious and hasto be admitted,” he says.

In Jalna city too, thesituation is acute. “There have been cases of physicalassault over water,” says a local policeman.

“Water for us is as pre-cious as gold,” adds home-maker Manjri Ranjnekar, 35.

■ HomemakerManjri Ranjnekarposes with herpadlockedstorage tankoutside her homein Jalna city. Most familieslock their tanks toprevent theft.

■Schoolchildren rush home from school in therain. Schools in Mahabaleshwar have a one-month monsoon vacation, from July to August.■(Left) Babytai Vaikar, 60, a homemakerfrom Kumbharoshi village, demonstrates how a cane basket positioned over a tray of burning coal acts as a heated clothes rack tohelp dry clothes in the monsoon. Her family of six uses 2 kg of coal, worth Rs 50, everyday during the rains just to dry clothes.■(Above) Umesh Bowlekar, 28, plays a game of marbles with other shopkeepersoutside his ice-cream and snack store opposite Mahabaleshwar Lake. The store front has been draped in plastic to withstandthe lashing rains.■(Top) Workers at a go-karting centre nearMahabaleshwar Lake hose down therecreational vehicles after a heavydownpour. The go-karting centre is shut, asis the paddleboat centre adjoining the lake,as tourism plummets to 20% of normalvolumes here during the stormy monsoons.

■ WamanBarvadkar, 75, isin despair over the state of his2.5-acre farm inManjhar village,Jalna. With themonsoon alreadythree weeks late here, deepfissures have formed in thepacked dry earth.(Below left)One of the many dry wells inBadnapur village.

HT PHOTOS: VIJAYANAND GUPTA

MAHABALESHWARJALNA

■ A cow licks at a dry water pump in Badnapur. The lack of water and grass has forced farmers to sell cattle to butchers.

Jalna

Mahabaleshwar

Mumbai

Maharashtra

INDIA

Area

7,612 sq km

52 sq km

Average annualrainfall

Total population

Number of farmers

FACT FILEJalna districtMahabaleshwar taluka

728mm

5,886mm

13.04 lakh

72,830

43,698

Primary occupation

Agriculture

Tourism

3.71lakh