Imagine a place that is overflowing with milk, but there is not a drop to sell. Then there is the rural community named after its manufacturing business. An outpost prides itself in sending its youth to guard India’s borders. One village stresses the importance of the girl child by practising eco-feminism. In another part of India, a quiet hamlet wakes up only long after the rest of the country is up, and calls it a day while the sun is still high elsewhere. There is the settlement where people answer not to a name, but to a song; in another corner, it’s the unusual that becomes a name. From the kaleidoscopic land that is India, the idyll never stops surprising us.
Piplantri, Rajasthan, Planting Feminism
Shyam Sunder Paliwal, a resident and former mukhiya of Piplantri village in the Rajsamand district of Rajasthan, says he believes God made humans intelligent so that they could save the environment, its creatures and those who are less fortunate. Over the last 17 years, the 58-year-old and the people of the village have almost miraculously transformed its barrenness to fertile land, through simple yet effective measures.
By 2000, excessive mining led to deforestation and acute water shortage in this area. The latter caused the untimely demise of Paliwal’s daughter Kiran, who was 16 when she died of ‘ulti-dast’ (dehydration). Distraught, he proposed that every time a girl is born, the villagers would plant 111 trees in her name.
Since then, over four lakh trees have been planted—neem, sheesham, mango, Indian gooseberry, banyan, peepal and bamboo. Additionally, they would collect `21,000 from community members for the education and welfare of the girls in the village, who are never viewed as a burden on the family. Water-harvesting measures were also adopted to help with afforestation. Today, Piplantri is a model village, where trees protect its residents, and its daughters walk with their heads held high. Paliwal, a Padma Shri awardee, says, “The upliftment of beti, pani, ped, gotra bhumi (daughters, water, trees and ancestral land), is my tapasya (penance).”
—Noor Anand Chawla
Kongthong, Meghalaya , A Song of One’s Own
To receive a gift that lasts for life is a unique blessing, and a village in Northeast India offers just that. In Kongthong—three hours from Meghalaya’s capital Shillong—every child is assigned an exclusive tune at birth by the mother. Known as jingrwai iawbei (song in honour of the root ancestor), this tradition has been alive for centuries. The melody, which resembles whistling, becomes the identity of the person. The child gets a name too, but it’s meant for official records and for use outside Kongthong. The unique choon—its duration is between a few seconds and 30 seconds at most—is believed to come to the mother when she gives birth, and becomes a manifestation of her love. “In the matrilineal Khasi culture, it’s a mother’s love song to her child. And just like no two loves are alike, no two tunes are the same,” says Rothell Khongsit, chairman of the village development committee and the state’s rural cooperative federation.
—Shikha Tripathi
Ganjanahalli, Andhra Pradesh , Milk of Human Kindness
Nearly half of the 1,200 families in Ganjanahalli in the Kurnool district own either a cow or a buffalo, but not a single house sells the milk. Not even to the teastalls in the village, which have to buy it from outside to prepare the brew for sale. The reason: the villagers share milk and its products for free with their comrades in need, since the sale of milk is taboo here. According to local legend that goes back centuries, a holy man from the village, Sadguru Mahatma Bade Saheb, whose dargah is still revered by many today, urged the people to use livestock only for agriculture and not engage in the dairy business. “Several decades ago, one person from our village did not follow the instructions and sold milk. Within a few days, he died mysteriously. Since then, not a single villager even thinks about selling milk,” explains Gattappagari Devendra, a farmer. Bade Saheb, named after his ancestor and whose family now takes care of the Bade Saheb dargah, owns a cow and a buffalo, which give three litres of milk daily. After keeping aside two litres for his family’s use, what remains is distributed to neighbours. Many other villagers do the same. On an average, 1,000 litres of milk is produced daily in Ganjanahalli.
—K Madhu Sudhakar
Kodurupaka, Telangana, Sun and Games
Walking through the thick fog, which envelopes Kodurupaka village in Telangana, Putheraveni Mounika considers herself lucky because her house gets the sun by 7.15 am. Other natives, who live at the foot of the hillock to the east, must wait till 8.30 am for solar relief. There are no evenings in this hamlet, located about six km away from district headquarters. The residents living on the west side only experience a dusk-like atmosphere as early as 4.30 pm, and the place plunges into darkness by 5 pm. In fact, this unusual phenomenon has led to Kodurupaka being named Mudujamula Kodurupaka (nine-hour daylight Kodurupaka). Comprising 350 houses, the village is surrounded by hills on all four sides. The one in the east is named Gollagutta while the villagers refer to the hillock to the west as Ranganayakulagutta; the hill with the Sri Laxminambudri temple on top rises on the northern side while Pamulagutta is in the south. The sun rises an hour late in the village because Gollagutta blocks the sun. Similarly, Ranganayakulagutta in the west hastens the sunset. “If the government develops the village properly, it can be a beautiful tourism destination,” feels former vice-sarpanch Busanaveni Raja Goud. —Naveen Kumar Tallam
Bhadrapur, Karnataka, There’s a Lot in a Name
What is common to Government, Apple, Office, English, British, Cycle, Forest, Range Police, Court, Express, Compound? They are all names of people in Bhadrapur village near Dharwad, Karnataka. The tribal community here are Hakki Pikkis, who can speak several languages like Kannada, Tamil, Telugu, Malayalam and dialects such as Vagribooli (similar to Gujarati). Ramu, who lives in Bhadrapur, says, “Earlier, a person would be named after a place or even a film. The community was largely unaware of the outside world since it had limited exposure to events. Hence, any new experience or a new word would become a name. For example, if someone travelled in an express vehicle, they would be named ‘Express’. My father-in-law’s name was ‘British’ because he was born when the British were still ruling us.” It’s not strange to find names like America, Japan, Punjab and Bombay, or Cycle Rani, Motor Rani, Mysore Pak for the women. “Names would just arise from events in the community’s life at that point—people have also been named Sub Inspector, Collector and Subedar. In fact, when they went hunting and saw something there, those names were used,” says another villager, Ramakrishna. With the passage of time, the practice is dwindling as the newer generation has started adopting regular names.
—Bindu Gopal Rao
Dharmapuri, Tamil nadu, Village of Warriors
Even at 60, N Marimuthu is busy serving the nation. A former army man, he trains youths in Dharmapuri, Tamil Nadu, to prepare for the physical and written examinations of the Indian Army. He is the President of the Ex-servicemen Association in Dharmapuri, and says the villagers have always been keen to join the armed forces. “The trend started when Sangili and Suruli Thevar from our village joined Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose’s Indian National Army to fight the British. After Independence, villagers started queueing up to join the Indian Army,” he says. People here believe that Kalliamman (the village deity) protects the soldiers of Dharmapuri. Over 300 villagers from among the 2,000-odd families have joined the defence forces. Though the zeal to join the army was always there, there were not many avenues to help aspirants. Which is the reason why, Marimuthu, after taking VRS, decided to help the young men. Having joined the forces in 1979 when he was just 17, the voluntary military trainer started on his vocation with a visit to the local school and sharing his experience of army life. He also began counselling aspirants on when and how to apply for army jobs. The former havildar has set up a makeshift training arena to impart free physical training. “Now, not only from Dharmapuri, but youths from the entire district have started coming here for training. I charge Rs 100 for meals per day. Their routine starts at 5 am, and the teachers here get them ready for the written exams. I have helped over 100 young men to join the Indian Army. Over 20 villagers have joined the Tamil Nadu Police Service,” he declares.
—Jeyalakshmi Ramanujam
Thenur, Tamil nadu , Twist in their Sobriety
Alcohol and drugs are bad for the addict and worse for the family.’ This maxim is behind the ban on alcohol and tobacco in Thenur village in Madurai district. And the ban has been in place for over 450 years now. Located on the banks of the River Vaigai near Sholavandan, Thenur is home to 3,000 families. P Chellam, a 66-year-old villager, says, “For us, the village is ‘Sundarrajan Bhoomi, the Land of Kallazhagar (Lord Vishnu). To show our reverence to the Lord, cigarettes and alcohol are forbidden. It is a way to respect our age-old traditions as well.” What’s more, many of the residents refrain from wearing footwear on the village premises as a mark of respect to Kallazhagar.
—Jeyalakshmi Ramanujam
OUKHOO, Jammu and Kashmir, A Poplar Person
Over a decade ago, 45-year-old Manzoor Ahmad set up Jhelum Agro Industries in Oukhoo village in Pulwama district, Kashmir. He has a staff of 150, half of whom are locals. “I don’t even have time to sleep. That’s how much work we have here at the factory,” he says. What is keeping him so busy, you might ask? It’s slat-manufacturing—raw material for pencils—crafted from the wood of poplars that abound in the Valley. With 17 such units employing 4,000 workers, the industry here has earned Oukhoo the moniker, Pencil Village of India. The slats are sent to leading manufacturing units, including Hindustan Pencils, where they become the write stuff. Earlier, India used to import wood for pencil-making from China and Germany, but for a decade now, Oukhoo is the core supplier of raw material. The only factor stopping the factories’ further growth is the lack of uninterrupted power supply. “If the government provides us with it, I guarantee that in six months, I will employ 1,000 people,” Ahmad affirms.
—Gafira Qadir
Modhera, Gujarat , Powering Through
Modhera in Gujarat has always identified itself with the sun. Till recently, the 11th-century Sun Temple located on the banks of the Pushpavati River got this village its fair share of limelight. From 2022 onwards, it has been lauded as India’s first round-the-clock Battery Energy Storage System (BESS) solar-powered village. Villager Bharat Mistry, 45, says, “Solar panels are installed in all the houses, free of cost. Our electricity bill has come down to zero, making it possible for us to save up to `500 every month. We are able to utilise this money to either buy milk for our children or pay their school fee.” More than 1,300 kW rooftop solar systems have been installed in Modhera. The daytime power is supplied through the solar panels. In the evening, the power supply comes from the government. Through this project, Modhera is the first village in India to become a net renewable energy generator. Moreover, it is the first modern village in the country to have a solar-based, ultra-modern electric vehicle charging station as well.
—Dilip Singh Kshatriya