by Pratyush Rudra, Trisha Purnaiya, Santosh Rasve & Sanyam Mahajan
The first mandi we stepped into in Jodhpur was bustling with activity. Vendors were hawking their wares – spiced buttermilk, leather mojaris, glass bangles. We jostled through the hubbub towards the clock tower, near which the vegetable sellers were stationed. My friend struck up a conversation with a man standing behind a cart piled high with eggplants, coriander, and potatoes.
“Namaste, ji! Are any of these vegetables organic (jaivik)?”
“Yes, yes – organically grown. Potatoes for the good price of Rs. 30 per kilo!”
“What exactly do you mean by organic?”
“Uhm – healthy and fresh, I think… ”
We went on to ask him about where the vegetables were grown, and how he could be assured of their quality. He again seemed uncertain about these questions, so we thanked him and went on our way.
This short interaction set the stage for much of our further research. With the exception of specialised companies that grow organic produce – without synthetic fertilisers and pesticides; and without genetic modification – the term ‘jaivik’ was used rather loosely in markets. For some, it referred simply to freshness; for others, it evoked ideas of health or traditional farming practices.The ambiguity surrounding what counted as ‘organic’ surfaced repeatedly throughout our fieldwork across Rajasthan, Gujarat, and Madhya Pradesh, revealing how the concept has become as much a cultural category as an agricultural one.
Our team of four from Ashoka University’s Young India Fellowship conducted investigations in markets and specialty stores across seven cities: Jodhpur, Jaipur, Kota, Ahmedabad, Vadodara, Indore and Bhopal. We were keen to understand how organic, agroecologically sustainable produce was perceived and sold in this geography. Conducting over seventy interviews with a variety of stakeholders – primarily sellers, but also consumers – was an attempt to examine how food cultures were being shaped in Tier-1 and -2 cities of the Hindi belt. This research was conducted in association with Sambhaav Trust – a non-profit that has been working to restore natural resources across Western India since 1999. The Trust is working with farmers from Dungarpur to create a collective that grows and sells agroecological, organic produce.
Why eat, grow, or sell organic?
While visiting Bhopal, a chart mounted on the wall in the Natureland Organic store caught my eye. It showed a pie-graph enumerating the reasons why consumers chose to buy organic food. It suggested that the primary reason why people chose to purchase organic food was for ‘family health’, followed by concern for the environment. This is a fair assessment. According to a literature review compiled by Rahman et al. (2024), multiple statistical analyses have uncovered that organic foods contain higher levels of nutrients like vitamin C, iron, and magnesium. When speaking to stakeholders, the overwhelming reason given when asked about impact on human health was that ‘organic food was pesticide-free’, or in simpler terms, was grown ‘bina chemical’.
Across interviews, a theme emerged with consistency: people rarely spoke about organic food purely in agricultural terms. Instead, consumption was tied to ideas of bodily wellbeing and protection from contamination. In several stores, sellers connected chemically cultivated food to rising rates of illness, fatigue, and even infertility. This was occasionally backed by scientific evidence provided by the seller – but more often than not, health benefits were peddled without proof. Additionally, despite the keenness to consume healthy, customers were often unaware of where produce was grown or the exact variety of the grain which they were consuming. This signalled the information gap between the farmer and the consumer, which some brands attempted to rectify through a clear narrative about their products, or through traceability.
A trend we noticed was that packaging was key to convey health and environmental benefits. Unlike in the mandi, where loose grains and vegetables were abundant, there were very few stores that sold organic produce without branded covers. Packaging was often clear, permitting direct sight of the organic food grains or oils. Minimalist labels, green or earthy tones in packaging, photographs of fields/farmers and the organic certification stamp seemed to be common features highlighted. At some stores, like Adrish Zerowaste Organics (Indore) and Krishi Organics (Kota), selling practices themselves became part of the organic ethos. Products were stored in large glass jars and dispensers rather than excessive plastic packaging, allowing customers to purchase flexible quantities in paper bags.
We also had the opportunity to visit the farmers of Dungarpur to understand their reasons for growing organic food with indigenous seed varieties. Once again, health emerged as the central concern – though here, it extended beyond the wellbeing of farming families to encompass the health of the soil itself. Farmers described chemical fertilisers and pesticides as gradually exhausting the land and reducing fertility over time.
Ramesh ji, a farmer from the Simalwara district, who works with Sambhaav Trust, took us through the distribution process of the indigenous seed bank maintained by the foundation. The Trust follows a seed-sharing model to give out organic seeds to farmers for free, in return for an equivalent amount of grain returned to the seed bank at the end of the harvest cycle. In this way, seeds circulate collectively instead of being commoditised. The seeds include indigenous varieties of wheat (gehun), chickpeas (channa), corn (makka), and local rice varieties like Krishna Kamod and Patharia. The farmers were also growing organic vegetables, fruits and flowers, from string beans and papaya to sunflowers. Sambhaav stores and shares over 195 varieties of grains with local communities.
Sambhaav is currently working with over 800 farmers across 90 villages, and distributing these resilient seed varieties to 195+ farmers. Those we spoke to were excited at the prospect of building a cooperative for organic farming, especially since many of their families were already consuming organically cultivated food at home. This was because of the taste and nutrition that such foods offered: Ramesh Ji’s school-going-daughter Krishna spoke to me about the health benefits of organic foods. Several also viewed indigenous seeds as more resilient to local climatic conditions and less dependent on costly chemical inputs. One of the farmers made us touch the moist soil and explained how the quality had significantly improved after shifting to organic cultivation.
Constraints on ‘Living Organic’
“Remember how much more it costs to go to the doctor for a cure than it costs to buy healthy food?”
This was a sentence which Lokesh Ji, the shopkeeper of Organic Drops (Kota) often repeated to prospective customers. Despite growing awareness, there has been some reluctance to take up organic foods owing to its cost being 2x or 3x that of conventional foodstuff. This is because organic seeds give lower yields than produce grown with chemical fertilisers and GM- seeds. Organic farming also required more labour and longer transition periods, all of which increased costs across the supply chain. As a result, the primary target segment of most stores were upper-middle-class and affluent urban consumers who could afford to prioritise their long-term health and environmental concerns over immediate cost.
These economic constraints also made it difficult for organic businesses themselves to remain viable. Several of the stores we attempted to visit during our fieldwork had already shut down. Adrish Zerowaste’s Bhopal branch, HalfKG Organic’s Indore branch, and several of the organic listed stores in Jodhpur and Jaipur had ceased operations. This reality showed how precarious the position of organic retail in India. If companies wish to expand into this space, it is important to cultivate strong traceability systems – for instance, displaying where produce was grown and which methods were used – and to create distinct branding that sets them apart.
The Age to be Healthy
Another key avenue that may be tapped is the online segment. The urban middle-class consumer which consumes organic produce is the same segment that significantly shops online (PwC India, 2025). There however appears to be an age difference between the two: when surveyed, it seemed like organic produce is largely consumed by families and senior citizens; meanwhile, 40% of India’s e-retail shoppers are GenZ, with their impact on purchasing trends growing over time.
The ‘age’ factor was significant when it came to deciphering organic shoppers. The best example of this seemed to be when I visited Kota, which is infamously India’s coaching-centre city. The median age in Kota is 29.4 years, skewed towards the age of the many students who study here. In Kota, I visited the Aahar Open Mess – which catered to the student populace – and a few kirana stores in the region. They did not have organic food and also seemed to have little appetite in expanding into this segment.
“The children care about saving money, and often buy maggi noodles and other semi-processed foods,” said Ruchi, the salesperson at a kirana store in Landmark.
To bridge this gap and win over younger, price-conscious consumers, brands will need to think more creatively. They must consider both how to market their products and how to build awareness among demographics not yet sold on organic living.
A group that seems to be regularly purchasing organic produce are those above the age of 50. Many older urban consumers appeared more conscious of long-term health concerns such as diabetes, blood pressure, heart disease, and digestive issues, and therefore were more willing to invest in food perceived as healthier or ‘chemical-free’. Several shopkeepers mentioned that older customers were often the most loyal, particularly those who had either experienced illness themselves or were purchasing organic produce for their families and grandchildren.
In Indore, Jaivik Setu is attempting to make organic farming and living more appealing to urban working professionals. Their Pragati Maidan site hosts weekend farmers’ markets and community-oriented events which encourage consumers to engage directly with producers and sustainable living practices. Meanwhile, spaces such as Mitti Cafe demonstrate how organic food is increasingly being positioned as part of an aspirational urban lifestyle. Located in an affluent area of the city, the café brands itself as a ‘luxury organic dining space’, with carefully curated seasonal menus. Cakes and desserts were priced upwards of Rs. 600, and beverages at around Rs. 300.
These spaces suggest that organic living is no longer being marketed simply as ‘healthy’, but also as aesthetic and socially desirable. However, this simultaneously raises questions around accessibility. Such branding may help popularise organic lifestyles amongst privileged classes of urban consumers, but risk denying the layperson access to alternative food systems.
Trust in Certification
Questions of trust and authenticity permeated nearly every conversation we had. In Indore, perched among glass jars filled with organic grains, I interviewed Sarthak Tibbediwal, who founded Adrish Zerowaste Organics. He explained that the process of obtaining organic certification in India – whether through Jaivik Bharat, NPOP, Ecocert, or international standards such as USDA Organic – is expensive, time-consuming, and bureaucratically complex. As a result, many genuinely organic producers either forgo certification entirely or operate on a small enough scale that formal accreditation becomes economically unviable. Subsequently, many who do not sell organic produce claim that their products are ‘genuine’.
Meanwhile, as the manager at Jaisal Organics (Jodhpur) highlighted, certifications are paramount.
The absence of certification limits a company’s ability to scale or export their produce internationally. It also fractures consumer trust if genuinely organic produce is not deemed as such by official bodies.
Ultimately, our fieldwork suggested that ‘organic’ seems to be perceived as something more than a method of cultivation. It enables people to articulate anxieties around health and environmental degradation while revealing the lack of trust in contemporary food systems. The lack of a standardised definition of ‘organic food’ in India seems to lend some flexibility to sellers, but also leads to mistrust among buyers.
The market left us with several contradictions to grapple with. First – organic food is increasingly visible in urban spaces, but remains financially inaccessible to much of the population. Next – consumers desire traceability and often wish to support farmer-collectives, but certification systems are often too expensive for small producers to navigate. Brands market organic living as aspirational and aesthetic, while farmers continue to grapple with the economic risks of sustainable cultivation. The divide between urban consumers and rural producers remained evident throughout our interviews.
Nevertheless, there is clear momentum behind the organic movement in Rajasthan, Gujarat, and Madhya Pradesh. Many people are attempting to reimagine how food can be sustainably produced, sold, and consumed. The future of organic food in India lies on whether these stakeholders can encourage transparency, local development, and genuine access beyond elite urban circles.
This internship was conducted with students of the Young India Fellowship, Ashoka University, as part of their Experiential Learning Module, in collaboration with Sambhaav. Read the full report here. Find the associated Flickr Album here.