A group of villagers gather under a deepening sky along a dirt track that winds its way through houses made of clay, brick and mud. The men are assembled near the road, the women in their colourful saris and ghoonghat sit side-by-side in front of a house; inside, hens mill about. The children sit off to one side—curious, attentive and playful—while a group of outsiders and I sit opposite them with our backs to a neighbouring house’s wall. Together, we all form a semi-circle of sorts, waiting for a discussion to begin.
We are in the Ahirwar hamlet of Mador village, a place where clear skies and the songs of birds replace the rough and tumble of city life. A half hour’s drive from Orchha, the seat of the Bundela Rajput kings in the 16th century, I am here to learn how this village solved its water scarcity problem. After a quick introduction from the group leader, one of the residents, Radha, speaks about her role in the turnaround of her village.
“We suffered a lot of problems due to water scarcity before 2018, even getting up at 4AM in the dark to fetch it,” she says. “I used to attend self-help group (SHG) meetings in another mohalla (ward) and would ask the people there about their water problems. They told me how, with assistance from TARAgram, they resolved their water scarcity issue. So, each household in my village decided to contribute INR 1,000 to build a water tank, and with the help of TARAgram and the sarpanch (head of the village council), we got a motor. Since then, my village does not have any water issues.”
The water tank Radha talks about runs on solar panels and pipes water to all of the households in Ahirwar. An INR 50 monthly fee ensures women manage system maintenance and are in charge of the whole set-up. In 2021, a poultry livelihood project was initiated to empower farmers, the youth and women through backyard poultry farming, boosting incomes by 35 per cent and strengthening the local economy. Meanwhile, the houses here were all made locally and employed resource-efficient rat-trap masonry techniques, micro concrete roofing tiles and precast door-window frames, all of which purportedly reduce the difference in temperature between the indoors and outdoors by at least 2°C.
I am in Bundelkhand as a participant of the TARAgram Yatra 2024, a flagship annual event by the social enterprise Development Alternatives Group (DA). TARA refers to the Society for Technology and Action for Rural Advancement, whose vision is to create sustainable livelihoods on a large scale. Their aim of eradicating poverty and regenerating the environment involves incubating business models and building capacity at the village level in three key areas: livelihood security and inclusive entrepreneurship, resource efficiency and the circular economy, and climate resilience and ecosystem restoration.
You may be wondering, “Why Bundelkhand?” As a speaker on day one of the event put it, the region used to be considered the backyard of both Madhya Pradesh and Uttar Pradesh. The steep, isolated hills and plains are marked by the course of the Dhasan, Tons, Ken and Betwa rivers, the latter of which has been dammed and provides water for irrigation and hydroelectricity. The region was one of India's diamond mining hubs, but agriculture is the main source of subsistence. For DA, the 70,747 square kilometres of Bundelkhand is their social laboratory, or karmabhoomi (“land of action”), a place where they have concentrated funds and grants into building local capacities, regenerating natural resources, and employing science and technology-based solutions to demonstrate sustainable development in action.
After an early morning train ride from Delhi, I alight at an intensely hot Jhansi. The sunlight is so strong I question whether the city even experiences winters. I will be in for a rude shock once the sun goes down, but for the moment, all I care about is getting some rest. That is hard to come by, as my group—a handful of journalists and some civil society organisation representatives—are whisked away to the TARAgram campus after a quick refresher in an Orchha hotel.
The TARAgram campus is a resource centre established in 1996 that has evolved from a handmade paper factory into a thriving technology, research and training centre today. It houses Radio Bundelkhand, a community-run radio station that gives information to and provides entertainment for thousands of people in the region, with a particular focus on women, young people and marginalised communities; and the TARA Nirman Kendra, where locals make energy-efficient building materials like micro concrete roofing tiles, fly ash bricks, compressed earth blocks and ferrocement channels, among other institutions.
During the official introduction ceremony, I hear from DA representatives about what to expect from the following day’s “yatras,” where participants will have to choose from one of the aforementioned key areas. The person who catches my eye during the hour-long session is Varsha Raikwar, a bubbly and unassuming woman who hosts “Shubh Kal,” the flagship series of Radio Bundelkhand that focuses on mitigating climate breakdown impacts. She talks about how her show reaches an estimated 200,000 people a month, but it is her joyful personality and confident voice that has the crowd eating up her words.
Afterwards, we take a tour of the TARAgram campus, perusing the many stalls that have been set up for our arrival. I pass by seed oils and acrylic paintings before being arrested by the sight of small crocheted outfits designed for Hindu idols. I buy a bright yellow-and-orange one for my mom.
At night, we attend a light and sound show in Orchha Fort. The moonlight is bright, and it outshines every other light source out there. The narrative peaks and troughs, but the freezing winter cold makes me certain that such an outing is not made for the colder months.
The next day is probably the highlight of my trip. A “Nari Manchan” event is held that brings together a dozen pioneering women who have set up their own businesses with help from TARA. I hear the stories of how women who survived intimate partner violence and were rejected by their neighbours for daring to step over the threshold became breadwinners, like Prabha and Shukla, who started driving e-rickshaws; Rakhi, who established an optical shop in Ambabay and has since expanded to two more outlets in Jhansi; Seema, who has become financially independent after starting her own online service centre; and Mamta, who will soon begin work on an oil expeller unit to manufacture seed oils. Most of these women received initial funding from Rang De, India's first peer-to-peer online micro-lending platform, in partnership with DA. Listening to their stories, many of which were heart-rending, made me glad that their courage had never forsaken them and that they were supported in their endeavours by an organisation that believed in them.
After this, I head back to the TARAgram campus to participate in the resource efficiency and circular economy “yatra.” My reason for joining this stream was two-fold: one, I am deeply interested in new ways of doing business, particularly in light of climate breakdown; and two, it was the least attended of all three branches, so I reckoned it would make for a more intimate atmosphere. I was right on that last one.
I learn that the employees of the TARA Nirman Kendra, who make energy-efficient bricks and tiles, are fielding demands from homeowners, dhaba owners, restaurant owners, hotels and colleges for their materials, indicating that resource-efficiency can work on a small scale provided people are made aware of it and if sufficient investment is put into it. On that day, I see men and women work the machines, but note also how workers don’t use masks to protect themselves from breathing in dust as a result of their work.
On my final day, I take a short river cruise on the Betwa River with some other participants. The water is cold but the strong sunlight and beautiful view of the chhatris of Orchha are simply splendid. I can reminiscence about that image all day long but my trip is winding down. After some sightseeing, we have lunch and high tea at the Orchha Palace hotel, before heading back to Jhansi to take the train to Delhi.
During the journey back, I reflect about what I have seen and experienced in my three days in Orchha. My enduring feeling remains that while the future may not look rosy thanks to the challenges of overconsumption, climate breakdown, biodiversity loss, pollution and patriarchal gender attitudes—problems that cannot be solved with a magic wand—it is in the stories and economies of small towns and villages in India that we get a glimpse of how a life built on principles of equality and respect for people and the planet can work wonders.