The warnings were in place. From late last year, climate experts, including the Indian Meteorological Department (IMD), were saying 2019 could be a very hot year. Some even said it could be the hottest ever on record. While the jury is out on that claim, the summer of 2019 has been undeniably awful for India, with Delhi hitting 48 degrees Celsius and even Mumbai reaching 40 degrees Celsius. Churu, Rajasthan, touched 50.3 degrees Celsius, the hottest city in the world on June 3; its melting roads had to be cooled with precious water.
The pre-monsoon rains ended at a 25 per cent deficit (47 per cent in the south), the second driest in 65 years. The monsoon is predicted to perform below normal with private forecaster Skymet saying overall rains will be 93 per cent of the long period average (LPA)—the IMD’s benchmark. The national weather forecaster talks of a “near normal” scenario. But the time and spatial distribution may negate even this rosy picture. Skymet predicts 102 per cent rains in August and less than normal in the remaining monsoon months. East India and parts of central India are predicted to get much less.
So far, the monsoon has not brought much cheer. It arrived on June 8, a week behind schedule, and has moved sluggishly, covering only 15 per cent of India by the third week of June. The month is ending on a severe deficient note. In a country where agricultural cycles are synced with the monsoon, delays are derailing. From across the country are reports of migration from parched villages. Cities are hardly any better off. Water-stressed Chennai has gone dry. The Madras High Court rapped the state government for not having a contingency plan, given that the rain forecast was bleak for this year. Chennai gets most of its precipitation in the northeast monsoon. That succour is months away.
Unlike the US, India is no denier of climate crisis. It maintains there will be more extreme weather scenarios to deal with; we had a good sampling of that—the Kerala inundation (2018), the Kedarnath cloudburst (2013). The NITI Aayog has flagged the depleting ground water reserves, noting that the country is facing the “worst water crisis in its history”. Its report, Composite Water Management Index, says that 21 major Indian cities will run out of ground water by next year.
Forewarned is supposed to be forearmed. Has India, then, built in climate stress resilience into its systems? “We are very good with warning systems now and have commendable quick response to threats of cyclones,” says Chandra Bhushan, deputy director, Centre for Science and Environment. Indeed, from the super cyclone of 1999, which claimed 10,000 lives, to recent ones like Ockhi, Phailin and Fani, where quick evacuation of millions drew global praise, India has come a long way.
“For other phenomena, though, the track record is not so good,” says Bhushan. “Heat waves are not considered natural disasters. We do not have a heat code, which would stipulate actions [that]administrations should initiate as temperatures rise.” Decisions that local administrations take now, like banning construction work during daylight hours, are patchy and uncoordinated.
Indian scientists have developed sturdy lines of drought and saline resistant seeds. Yet, the translation from lab to field is poor. Thus, a bad rain year brings about agrarian crisis. The problems are many, explains S.K. Sinha, principal economist, India Ratings and Research. “The availability of such seeds is limited,” says Sinha. “Convincing farmers is another issue. While they are quick to accept high yield varieties, they are wary of sturdier varieties, because sturdiness comes at the cost of yield. The saleability of the crop is another matter. Unless the complete chain is synchronised, it does not work.”
Chennai- Chembarambakkam lake | R.G. Sasthaa
“Developing new seed lines is science, making it acceptable is governance,” says S. Naresh Kumar, principal scientist, Centre for Environment Science and Climate Resilient Agriculture. In horticulture and vegetable farming, where the market is dominated by the private sector, farmers are more amenable to experimenting with new varieties, but not with cereal crops, where the Food Corporation of India is the biggest buyer.
Even if willing, farmers often do not have enough reaction time. This year, it was already late May when IMD announced that the monsoon would have a delayed start. Farmers, thus, had little time to decide whether they should switch to a crop with a shorter growing period. It was certainly not enough to mobilise the availability of such seeds. The advisory to farmers in Andhra Pradesh to delay sowing by a few days was a more effective measure.
The Centre’s National Crisis Management Plan for Drought mandates localised plans for managing agriculture in drought, suggesting interventions like delayed sowing and alternate crops. “State governments are not unaware about an impending drought, they are generally unprepared to deal with it; Maharashtra and Karnataka for instance,” says food policy analyst Devinder Sharma. This year, advisories were sent to several states in mid May when water levels in dams dropped.
Then there are weather events against which Indian agriculture has absolutely no protection. Hailstorms often damage standing crop. But despite weather warnings, the farmer can do little. “We’ve been mulling over some low tech solution to cover the fields, but there is no solution yet,” says Kumar.
When it comes to water, the solution is to dig even deeper, or further. A thirsty Delhi sees its groundwater dip by half to two metres every year, according to the Central Ground Water Board. Most of it is heavily contaminated. With the Yamuna a sluggish stream that foams with pollutants, the city is now looking at Renukaji dam in Himachal Pradesh, 250km away, to slake its thirst.
Most Mumbaikars are not aware that five rivers flow through the metropolis. They instead celebrate with modaks when Vaitarna lake, over 100km away, fills up. This lake is their main water source. Then, there are places like Ahmednagar, says Bhushan, with a good rain water harvesting system—but the collection gets diverted for water-guzzling crops like sugarcane and rice, leaving scant reserves.
In 2003, Tamil Nadu mandated rainwater harvesting structures in all buildings. Parched Chennai did not heed. Even government buildings ignored the rules. They left the Adyar and Cooum rivers to die, ignored water bodies which once sponged up flood water and ensured moisture for dry days.
“India gets 1,150mm annual rainfall, which is a lot of water, but does not manage it well,” says Kumar. “Kerala faces shortage in March and April, despite getting 2,200 to 3,400mm annually. Udaipur, however, maintains its lakes and remains water content.” The Telengana government’s Mission Kakatiya aims to revive over 46,000 lakes. Though behind target, it at least addresses the immediate problem. On the other hand, the Centre’s bombastic river linking project to divert water from swollen rivers to drier beds is caught in a myriad environmental tangles.
Prime Minister Narendra Modi has made water management a flagship mission, beginning with setting up the Jal Shakti ministry. He recently wrote to village sarpanches asking them to initiate water conservation and rainwater harvesting measures. Will the initiative become a mass movement, like the Swachch Bharat Abhiyaan? Or will it be another act of greenwashing?
Water management is also about investing high technology into reducing usage, says Mukund Vasudevan, India head, Ecolab, a multinational provider of water efficient technology. The private sector needs to be involved in water solutions, he says. One initiative is the newly formed corporate-led water alliance. India’s agricultural tie-up with Israel also focuses on efficient water management with drip irrigation and satellite aided agriculture (to determine the water a field needs and when).
China is in talks with Russia to import water from Lake Baikal to its thirsty northwest through a 1,000km-long pipeline. Where will India go seeking water if its supply dries up? Several thousand years ago, it is said, a highly evolved civilisation in the subcontinent collapsed due to thirst. Could it happen again?
WITH VIJAYA PUSHKARNA.
