A Socio-Economic Narrative of Poonma Ram Ji’s Khadin, Andhariyo Nado, Nimba, Sam, Jaisalmer
Author: Ramesh Beniwal
“बादळ आवे तो धरती जीवे,
न आवे तो मन धीर धरै।
खाडी रो भरोसो छोड़ै कौन,
आस रो दीयो फेर जळै।”
“When the clouds arrive, the land comes alive.
When they do not, patience keeps hope alive.
Who would abandon a Khadin built with faith?
Every season, its lamp of hope is lit once again.”
Every year, thousands of visitors travel to Sam in western Rajasthan. They arrive to witness golden sand dunes stretching endlessly towards the horizon, ride camels across the desert, watch the sunset disappear behind the dunes, and experience what many describe as the beauty of the Thar. For tourists, the desert is an unforgettable destination. For the families who have lived here for generations, however, it is something very different. Behind every dune lies a story of waiting, uncertainty, and extraordinary resilience. Life here has never been shaped by scenery alone; it has always been shaped by water.
It was in Andhariyo Nado, a small settlement near Sam, that we met Poonma Ram ji, a sixty-two-year-old farmer whose quiet words revealed the everyday realities hidden behind the popular image of the desert. As we sat together outside his home, there was neither complaint nor disappointment in his voice. Instead, there was a calm acceptance that farming in the Thar has always depended upon forces beyond human control. Looking across his fields, he explained that no matter how much effort a farmer puts into cultivation, the final outcome still depends upon the arrival of rain.
A Small Farm That Carries the Future of an Entire Family
Poonma Ram ji lives with a family of eight members and cultivates approximately seven acres of khatedari land. Unlike larger landholders, every acre of his farm carries enormous importance because it directly supports the household’s livelihood. The entire holding now depends upon a newly constructed Khadin, completed in 2025, which has become the centre of both agricultural activity and the family’s hopes for the future.
The Khadin remains in good condition, although a few sections of the embankment still require repair before the next monsoon. The fields also need cleaning after each agricultural season, reminding us that building a Khadin is only the beginning. Like every living system, it requires continuous care, maintenance, and attention.
The land itself possesses a gentle natural slope, allowing rainwater to spread gradually across the field. This seemingly simple feature determines the success of the entire farming system. Here, gravity becomes an invisible partner in agriculture, carrying precious rainwater across the landscape and allowing moisture to remain within the soil for nearly predicated forty days after a good rainfall.
Where Every Farming Season Waits for the Clouds
The family’s agriculture remains entirely rain-fed. Every Kharif season begins with the same question that countless farmers across the Thar silently ask:
Will the rains arrive this year?
Only after the monsoon begins can the family sow bajra, guar, moth, til (sesame), and matira using nearly 100 kilograms of seed, all carefully preserved from previous harvests. This practice not only reduces cultivation costs but also reflects the family’s confidence in traditional seed conservation.
Because the household owns its own tractor, the family avoids the expense and uncertainty of hiring machinery from distant villages. In remote settlements like Andhariyo Nado, where villages such as Sam and Nimba lie several kilometres away, arranging a rented tractor during the short sowing season can be difficult and expensive. Ownership therefore provides more than convenience; it allows the family to begin cultivation immediately whenever the first rains arrive.
Each agricultural season still requires nearly ₹25,000 for land preparation and approximately ₹15,000 for diesel. Beyond these expenses, almost every activity—from sowing to harvesting—is carried out through family labour. Organic manure produced by their own cows, goats, and sheep replaces chemical fertilisers, keeping farming closely connected with livestock and natural nutrient cycles.
A Khadin That Reduced Migration Before It Increased Income
The most significant change brought by the Khadin cannot be measured simply in crop yields.
Before its construction, fodder shortages frequently forced the family to migrate seasonally for nearly four months every year. Such migration was not a choice but a necessity, driven by the lack of water and grazing resources.
Today, that migration has reduced by nearly ninety percent.
Water availability has increased by around twenty percent, livestock numbers have grown from twenty-five to twenty-seven animals, and the family is able to remain closer to home for much longer periods. Although these changes may appear modest in statistical terms, their social significance is profound. Spending more time at home means greater continuity in farming, stronger family life, and reduced uncertainty during difficult seasons.
This reminds us that development is not always reflected through dramatic increases in income. Sometimes its greatest achievement is allowing families to remain where they belong.
Livestock: The Quiet Strength Behind the Household
Alongside cultivation, livestock remains an essential pillar of the family’s livelihood. The household currently owns two cows and twenty-five goats, all of which contribute to both organic farming and household security.
Milk is not sold commercially. Instead, livestock primarily supports family nutrition while providing manure that sustains soil fertility. Yet maintaining animals in the desert is never easy.
Every year the family spends nearly ₹30,000 on fodder. Green fodder remains available for only about three months, making careful management essential throughout the rest of the year. In this landscape, crops and livestock survive together. When rainfall improves, fields become greener, fodder becomes available, animals remain healthier, and agriculture itself becomes more secure.
The Difference Between Visiting the Desert and Living in It
Perhaps the most memorable part of our conversation had little to do with agriculture itself. Looking towards the distant sand dunes, Poonma Ram Ji reflected upon the thousands of tourists who visit Sam every year.
People travel from across India and beyond to admire the beauty of the desert, ride camels, and photograph the endless landscape. Then he quietly added that only those who actually live here understand what life in the desert truly demands.
Behind every beautiful sunset lies a year of uncertain rainfall. Behind every photograph of golden dunes lies a family waiting for the monsoon. Behind every cultivated field lies months of preparation without any assurance that the harvest will succeed.
His words reminded us that landscapes often appear very different depending upon whether one is visiting them or depending upon them for survival.
A Partnership Built on Shared Responsibility
The Khadin itself was constructed through a partnership in which Sambhaav Trust supported seventy-five percent of the cost, while the family contributed the remaining twenty-five percent.
For Poonma Ram Ji, however, the project did not end with construction. Instead, it marked the beginning of a new responsibility.
During our discussion, he said something that perhaps summarised the entire story more beautifully than anything else.
“The rest is in God’s hands. We will continue to take care of our Khadin because if we do not care for it, who else will?”
His words carried neither helplessness nor blind optimism. They reflected responsibility.
The Khadin may capture rainwater, but only continuous care can preserve its ability to support future generations.
Summary
The story of Poonma Ram Ji’s Khadin reminds us that development in the Thar Desert is often measured not by extraordinary prosperity but by greater stability, reduced migration, improved water availability, and renewed confidence in farming. The newly constructed Khadin has strengthened the family’s ability to cultivate rain-fed crops, retain moisture for nearly forty days, reduce seasonal migration, and support livestock through improved fodder availability. Above all, it reflects how community support, traditional knowledge, and local participation can together strengthen resilience in one of India’s most water-scarce landscapes.
Acknowledgements
This narrative is based on field interactions conducted with Poonma Ram Ji and his family at Andhariyo Nado, Sam, Jaisalmer, during a socio-economic field study supported by Sambhaav Trust. I sincerely thank Poonma Ram Ji for generously sharing his experiences, knowledge, and reflections on farming, water, and life in the Thar Desert.
This article was written by Ramesh during his internship with Sambhaav Trust in 2026. To explore more work by Ramesh, click here.