Wednesday, June 17, 2026
Neena Bhandari
- The forests are slowly growing back in India’s oldest hill ranges, the denuded Aravalis, where villagers are helping green the bare hills and ensure their own survival.
“My hill, my grass”, say villagers in hamlets around this town, who are new converts of the concept of peoples ownership of forests and forest produce. For years, the Aravalis were plundered to meet the fuelwood, fodder and timber needs of a burgeoning local population in this otherwise arid region.
The low, rolling hill ranges — spread over an area of 50,000 sq km — run along the southern fringes of India’s desert state of Rajasthan and end in the Indian capital, New Delhi. In fact, the Aravalis act as a natural barrier, preventing the march of the Thar desert into the fertile Gangetic plains.
But a surge in human and cattle population over the last 50 years very nearly turned the Aravalis into wasteland. More than 90 percent of the hills are bare. Now, a timely and ambitious Japanese-aided 51 million-dollar afforestation scheme is helping revive the green cover to some extent.
“By 1991 there were 45 million people and an equal number of cattle in Rajasthan. The number of rainy days had shrunk from 50 to 30 days a year. There was no vegetation, most of the rainwater was lost in flash floods, the water table was shrinking and with stones and sand depositing in agriculture fields and stream beds, recurring famines became the order of the day,” recalls Chief Conservator of Forests Rajasthan, D.P. Govil.
Alarmed forest officials enlisted the support of the locals to check the environmental catastrophe. Says Govil: “It was realised that unless the locals were involved, a reforestation project would only be on paper so we began instilling a feeling of belonging among the people. Once the fringe benefits began to accrue to them, it automatically acted as a deterrent to tree felling and increasing plantations with no supervision costs.”
The five-year Aravali Afforestation Project launched in 1992 with the assistance of the Overseas Economic Cooperation Fund (OECF) of Japan aims to green the barren hills once again, check desertification and meet the fuel, fodder and household needs of the mainly indigenous peoples.
“We had to walk for miles to collect fuel and fodder as all the nearby hills had been denuded. But once we began to realise that the ‘magri’ (local name for hills) and the grass is ours to protect, today the hill we live on suffices for our daily needs,” says Ganga, a 35-year-old woman with a large family.
Several indigenous tree species like mango and custard apple, planted over the past four years have begun bearing fruit. The villagers have formed their own Forest Protection and Management Committees to guard what they believe is their common property.
Each committee has devised its own mode of punishment which can range from a fine of a few rupees (a dollar is equivalent to 36 rupees) to being socially ostracised.
“For illegal grazing by goats, there is a fine of Rs 11. For stealing five bundles of grass from the forests, the defaulter is charged Rs 151. In the past three years we have collected Rs 2,500 as punishment,” explains Narain Singh Jhala, treasurer of the Salukhera committee in Udaipur district.
“Many of the villagers who own cattle, have been motivated to replace their unproductive livestock with improved breeds and switch over to stall feeding instead of letting them loose in the forests for grazing,” he adds.
The project has also helped find jobs for locals who are hired on a daily wage of Rs 32 for fencing, making stone walls and planting hedges. Some work in the nurseries where saplings are raised for being planted on degraded land.
“Now we have got employment at our doorstep,” says 18-year- old Bhanwari, who works at one of the nurseries, her nine-month- old infant sleeping in a hammock tied to a mango tree.
“Earlier we had to walk at least 20 kms to work at construction sites. This made things very difficult for women. Now we are closer to home and can look after our children better,” she says.
The project ensures that the villagers get to collect all the grass, seed and fruits from the forests. A payment of sorts is taken for cutting grass — each person must contribute a bundle of grass to a common pool which is later sold for a rupee each.
Sixty percent of the timber from the final harvest goes to the villagers and the rest remains with the State Forest Department.
In degraded forests where ground cover has been reduced to
between 10 and 40 percent, soil and moisture conservation measures have been taken up. Nallahs (water courses) that were blocked with silt have been cleared, and check dams built that prevent three-fourths of the rainwater from going waste.
“We have water for most part of the year,” says Prakash, 11, who instead of going to school had to earlier walk for miles every day with other young girls from the village to fetch water.
Says Forest Conservator U.M. Sahay: “We are using film and puppet shows, exhibitions, pamphlets, sign boards, audio-visual programmes and training to encourage people to take up plantations on community or panchayat (common) land which would immediately cater to local needs. The Forest Department is also giving seedlings to villagers for planting on private lands.”
In a land where nature has been unforgiving because of the loss of vegetation on the hill slopes, every little effort goes a long way in ensuring future generations will be able to live off the land.