Author: Ramesh Beniwal
For nearly five decades, Padma Ram Ji has watched the Thar Desert transform—from hand-drawn water and simple meals to tractors, higher yields, and changing tastes. Through his memories, a Khadin becomes more than a water-harvesting structure; it becomes an archive of a changing rural world.
The Taste of an Earlier Time
“आज हलवे का स्वाद भी पहले की राबड़ी से कम है।”
“Today, even halwa does not taste as good as the simple raabdi of earlier times.”
Some people remember their lives through dates and events. Farmers often remember life differently. They remember years through rainfall, the crops that grew, the wells that dried, and even the taste of food.
For Padma Ram Ji, memories are inseparable from the land. At the age of seventy, he speaks not only as a farmer but also as a witness to nearly half a century of change in western Rajasthan. His story is not simply about agriculture or production. It is about how landscapes change, how livelihoods adapt, and how some memories remain alive through something as simple as the taste of a meal.
A Life Rooted in One Piece of Land
Padma Ram Ji, son of Hardas Ram Ji, received his land through a government allotment in 1971. Since then, the land has remained at the centre of his family’s life. Today, the family cultivates nearly 75 bighas of Khadin land, which was reconstructed four to five years ago with the support of Sambhaav Trust.
The Khadin, however, is not cultivated by one person alone.
It is shared by seven partners—Padma Ram Ji and his six sons: Anoopa Ram, Fhoola Ram, Mahendra Ram, Channa Ram, Khusa Ram, and Shaitan Ram.
Like many households in western Rajasthan, farming here is not an individual occupation. It is a collective responsibility that binds generations together. The land is worked together, the harvest is shared together, and the future of the family remains deeply connected to the future of the Khadin.
When Rain Stays, So Does Prosperity
In years of good rainfall, this 75-bigha Khadin produces nearly 115 to 130 sacks of crop, an impressive figure in a region where agriculture remains deeply dependent on the monsoon.
The reconstruction of the Khadin has significantly improved its water-holding capacity, allowing the family to make better use of both agricultural seasons.
During Kharif, the family cultivates guar, moong, bajra, and matira. During Rabi, the fields produce wheat, gram, and rai. The ability to cultivate in both seasons is not merely an agricultural achievement. It is evidence that the landscape itself has changed. Water remains longer, moisture persists in the soil, and confidence in farming has grown.
In the Thar Desert, this is what prosperity often looks like—not sudden wealth, but the ability to plan for another season.
The Economics of Cultivation
Unlike many farmers who depend on rented machinery, Padma Ram Ji owns his own tractor, reducing a significant portion of cultivation costs.
Even then, farming remains an expensive undertaking. Nearly 2,000 litres of diesel are consumed every season, and the family uses approximately 7 to 8 sacks of seed, or nearly four quintals, during sowing. These figures reveal an important reality about dryland agriculture. Rain-fed farming is not inexpensive farming.
Every agricultural season begins with an investment long before the first crop appears in the field. Farmers spend money without knowing whether the rains will be kind enough to reward their efforts.
Every monsoon, therefore, is also a season of hope.
Livestock: The Household’s Living Wealth
Agriculture is only one pillar of the family’s economy. The household also owns nearly 200 sheep and 45 goats, one of the largest livestock holdings encountered during our fieldwork in the Ramgarh region.
The youngest son primarily manages the animals, although Padma Ram Ji remains deeply involved in their care.
In the desert, livestock represents much more than income. Animals are savings during difficult years, insurance against failed crops, and a source of stability when rainfall becomes uncertain. They convert sparse vegetation into livelihood and provide security that no bank account can fully replace.
For pastoral and farming communities of western Rajasthan, livestock is not simply an economic asset—it is a way of ensuring that a household can survive the uncertainties of the desert.
Farming Without Chemicals
One of the most striking aspects of Padma Ram Ji’s farming is the complete absence of chemical pesticides. When asked about this, his response was immediate.
“पेस्टिसाइड के लिए ज़्यादा पानी चाहिए। यहाँ पानी ही कम है। तो पेस्टिसाइड डालेंगे कैसे?”
“Pesticides require more water to apply effectively. Here, water itself is scarce, so how could we possibly use them?”
His answer was not based on ideology or a deliberate commitment to organic farming. It was based on practicality.
The ecological realities of the Thar Desert have shaped agricultural practices in ways that modern farming often overlooks. Scarcity itself has encouraged methods that remain closer to nature.
Interestingly, the family’s land contains no Multani Mitti. When they dug a Beri, they found stones instead of the clay layer that generally indicates strong moisture retention.
Yet the reconstructed Khadin has managed to improve productivity despite this limitation, demonstrating how water management can transform even difficult landscapes.
When Food Tasted Different
As our conversation moved beyond farming, Padma Ram Ji began speaking about something far more difficult to measure. Taste.
“पहले दस बोरी में कम होता था, लेकिन स्वाद था। अब बहुत ज़्यादा होता है, स्वाद नहीं है।”
“Earlier, there was less harvest in ten sacks, but there was taste. Now there is much more production, but the taste is gone.”
He remembered a time when water was drawn from wells by hand, grains were processed through traditional methods, and wheat retained a richness that he feels has gradually disappeared. Production was lower. Life was harder.
Yet, according to him, food carried a flavour that abundance has somehow failed to preserve.
His memories are not merely nostalgic reflections on the past. They are reminders that development cannot always be measured through production figures alone. Some forms of abundance are difficult to quantify.
A Lifetime of Watching Change
Padma Ram Ji has spent nearly five decades observing rural Rajasthan transform. In 1988, he worked on road construction projects near the border and witnessed changes in labour, wages, and village life.
He has seen farming become mechanised, yields increase, and the rhythms of rural life gradually shift. Yet his concerns remain rooted in the future.
“गाँवों में खेती के बारे में अधिक जागरूकता फैलानी चाहिए। अच्छी खेती से ही लोग स्वस्थ रहेंगे और जीवन भी बेहतर बनेगा।”
“More awareness about agriculture should reach villages. Good farming is important not only for better production, but also for better health and better lives.”
For him, agriculture is not simply about producing crops. It is about sustaining healthy people, healthy soils, and healthy communities.
When a Khadin Becomes an Archive of Memory
Padma Ram Ji’s story reminds us that the value of a Khadin cannot be measured only in sacks of grain or improved moisture retention.
Some things cannot be counted. The memory of drawing water from a well. The knowledge of farming with one’s own hands. The taste of food prepared from grain grown on healthy soil. And perhaps that is the true legacy of this Khadin.
It does not merely hold rainwater. It holds memories. It holds relationships. And it preserves the stories of a landscape that still remembers what the land once tasted like.
Summary
The experience of Padma Ram Ji illustrates how traditional water-harvesting systems can improve agricultural productivity and strengthen livelihoods while also preserving inter-generational knowledge and farming traditions. The reconstructed Khadin has enhanced moisture retention, supported diversified agriculture and livestock rearing, and strengthened the family’s economic security. Yet his reflections also remind us that rural change is not measured only through higher yields; it is equally about memory, food, and the changing relationship between people and their land.
Acknowledgements
This narrative is based on field interactions conducted in Ekalpaar, Jaisalmer, as part of an ongoing socio-economic study on traditional water-harvesting systems and rural livelihoods.
I am deeply grateful to Padma Ram Ji and for sharing his experiences, memories, and wisdom.
This article was written by Ramesh during his internship with Sambhaav Trust in 2026. To explore more work by Ramesh, click here.