Desert Freedom, Rann of Kutch, Gujarat, January 2023

Little Rann of Kutch, February 2023. We were immersed in vast, open expanses of land that looked like it was in the midst of a terrible drought, often treeless as far as the eye could see. The vastness of nature contrasted with the small human, and was a balm to soul. We saw sparse human populations with large herds of majestically horned cattle in harmony with their environment. Simultaneous feelings of excitement and awe as we settled in. Surreal too, as the acacia-like thorny trees - much of it invasive Prosopis - in patches in this overwhelmingly arid world were dramatically different from a ‘forest’. even more so than the forests remaining in the semi-arid Aravalis in Haryana where I farm, or in the fertile plans of my ancestral village in the Doab. Thirsty, salty land, already hot in the day, and cold at night. It was difficult to belive this is only till the monsoon when this parched land transforms into a shallow lake as far as the eye can see. I experienced the all-encompassing force of nature, at will arid or wet. All kinds of life thrives in both. Migrating flamingoes in the lakes, flying and landing, feeding, constantly feeding in the shallow waters, content, long limbed, long necked, elegant and oh-so beautiful with those bright eyes. The wild ass, slow and gentle, feeding off the sparse grass, in healthy, large herds grazing, feeding, suckling, a fascinating story of a regenerated population pulled back from the verge of extinction. Who would have thought the presence of an ass is to be deeply thankful for? The foxes, hares, snakes, scores of other bird species that make this hard land their home. Of course, the tough villagers who rear cattle for a livelihood, who till relatively recently were living self-sustaining lives in nature. Salt pan workers make a living yet. I had flashes of a vigorous Gandhi walking briskly to Dandi. This great soul wanted so much more than political freedom from a soulless British. Swaraj, true freedom, living with less, without a mechanisation of the mind. If his thought had its way, the forces of modernity that have brought our land to this sorry pass would have been stopped. It was never even a possiblity though.