The Irony Of Migrations

The rules of nature are so stringent, enduring and final. And what irony in those rules. As the weather turns cooler, the vast landscape of the Thar Desert is witness to the arrival of the migratory birds. Travelling from thousands of miles away, these birds invariably manage to exactly locate their feeding grounds. Just as their predecessors have for so many countless centuries. The Imperial Sand Grouse has arrived, as have various species of duck. The largest visitors—only in size of course—belong to the bustard family, and the much-hunted Houbarra bustard has come in fairly large numbers. Distantly related to the much larger Great Indian Bustard, the Houbarra was the major reason for the various sheikhs from the Gulf to hunt in Rajasthan. They used to drive into Jaisalmer district from Rahimyar Khan in Pakistan.

The irony of all these migrations is that they occur at about the same time as the most important movement of the year, as far as the state is concerned, is about to conclude. It's been going on since the early Mughal days and involves one of the most fascinating—and certainly the most important—institutions of the Indian state. It's the appointment of girdavar and he participates annually in preparing the most important report, at least in the state if not in the country. In English he is called the inspector of land records and in some states he goes by that name, in some he is known as the kanungo and in Rajasthan he has always been known as the girdavar. His job is to assess the value of the crop just before each harvest— kharif and rabi. And each girdavar conducts this exercise with about four patwaris under him, checking every khasra of land in their area. All the girdavars send their assessments to their respective naib tehsildars, who, in turn, pass them on to their tehsildars from where it goes to the district collector for tabulation and onward dispatch. At each stage of its journey, the report is distilled for final presentation. Earlier, these assessments went to the royal courts, now they go to the Jaipur secretariat.

This process for the kharif crop lasted a month, from September 15 to October 15. And the historical change in the final address notwithstanding, it is ironical that the eagerly awaited girdavari report is still completed just as the migratory birds are arriving in droves. Ironical also because the girdavari report is the assessment of the state revenue department as to agricultural produce to be expected from the kharif crop. The report for the kharif crop, in essence, is the scale of damage to crops on account of inadequate rainfall. Ironical since the migratory birds arrive to feed in the same area. As mentioned in the first dispatch from Barmer, the drought happens as soon as the rains have failed. And rains fail by August, as they have once again, and the official report on that failure is the girdavari report. The state revenue department then sends its version of the report to the relief department. Ultimately, it is on the basis of the girdavari reports that the state government sanctions works that are commonly called drought relief projects. These are meant to alleviate the sufferings of the people affected by drought but the trick is in identifying who is affected and putting a price on the suffering. Mention was also made of this in the first dispatch, and the whole process begins at this time of the year.

Bhavani Singh and Hajaram are two of Barmer's bright young men. Both are extremely capable and they are both sarpanch of their respective gram panchayats.This is where the problem lies because the girdavari report for their area of responsibility declares drought in parts of the village and jamna (in local parlance) in the rest. "I have been given a 70/30 break up," Hajaram told me the other day. That is still a lot better than the district average. From a total of 1,520,896 hectares sowed for the kharif crop, 1,012,863 hectares have been declared damaged. And of a total of 1,941 villages in the district, merely 170 have been recorded as having suffered less than 50 per cent damage to the crops. In Jaisalmer district, of a total of 637 villages, 583 have been declared as drought affected. While 46 have been recorded as being without habitation, a total of eight villages have escaped the ravages of the drought! Satyaya, Ghantiali and Bhadariya are among the eight. "The report for this year is far worse than that of 1999," a concerned official in the district courts told me. In Barmer, the worst affected areas remain Chohtan and Ramsar tehsils. In fact, there is not one village in either tehsil that has suffered less than 50 per cent damage. A journalist had asked me this past summer about the drought and I had told her that the tehsil with the best sub-soil water in Barmer district, Chohtan, is the worst affected by drought. She couldn't believe it but then these are the ironies of nature. As ironical as the migratory birds coming to feed on a drought affected land, leaving just when the season changes to summer, and as conditions worsen. They have the means to leave. But what about the human beings and the cattle of Barmer?

(The writer stood for elections as the bjp candidate in Barmer, Rajasthan. He now works full-time in the constituency and is writing a column on life and development issues in Barmer.)