Dark clouds gather over stretches of farmland in West Bengal’s Birbhum district. It’s August. At this time, these fields are usually green with paddy. Now, most of them lie uncultivated. In the few patches where seeds were sown, sparse shoots appear through arid ground. Tribal farmer Futun Mandi, 80, stretches his arms skywards, murmuring something in Santhali. “Come, storm! Come, rain!” his 12-year-old grandson Somenath tranlated for us into Bengali. The boy looks frazzled, never having seen his grandfather so broken. Futun owns six bighas of land. Unlike poorer villagers of Shayeripara, his family can afford three square meals a day. No dearth of rice. Vegetables grow at home. The nearby forests yield plentiful fruit. Then there is that occasional catch, a wild bird or a rabbit. He even buys fish from the market. After all, he earns some Rs 1,500 from each bigha every season.
But this year he’s unable to cultivate his land. “With so little rainfall, the ground is hard. It’s difficult to plough, far less sow,” he sighs. Squatting, he holds his head in his hands in despair. “How will I feed my family?” He has heard that the government will subsidise mustard as an alternative crop. But as he has already invested in paddy, he is in a spot.
Official statistics corroborate Futun’s plight. Rainfall in the state has been 44 per cent below normal. Ganesh Burman, director (agriculture), says even this paucity wouldn’t have had such an adverse impact if the distribution was sustained over a period of time. “A certain measure of water accumulation is necessary for cultivation,” he says.
Couldn’t the irrigation projects of the NREGA help? After all, Birbhum falls in the Mayurakshi Dam region. Unlike the 11 districts of Bengal officially declared drought-affected, Birbhum has over the years been flood-prone. Joydeep Das, the block development officer of Birbhum, explains, “Success of government irrigation schemes depends also on natural rainfall.”
Suddenly, it begins to drizzle. “If it rains heavily for a few days even now, there is hope of survival,” Futun says, as there’s a rumble of thunder and the rain gets heavier. He looks up. Water streams down his face.
