IT'S ALL ABOUT RICE

Salban is part of a major rice belt. Our sleepy little villages start bustling during the rains, with people planting paddy and then harvesting it a few months later. It's as if the meaning of existence of the farmer comes alive. We too take part in this celebration.

This year the rains started abnormally late and continued through September and well into October. With the result the rice harvest has only begun now in November. Everywhere people are hurrying to and fro with bundles of cut paddy tied to either end of a pole carried across their shoulders. These are then neatly arranged into circular haystacks and left to dry in the sun before threshing. Most of the paddy or ‘dhan’ (unhusked grain) is stored for home consumption, while the surplus is sold to grain dealers who tour from farm to farm in their pick-up trucks. The entire region from Tumsar to Gondia , Balaghat and Kanha is a rice belt. In fact in our remote corner of M.P. the small farmers only survive on a single crop of rain-fed paddy that sees them through the entire year. The richer farmers who can afford to irrigate their land, might grow wheat after the rice is harvested, but that's more the exception. Of course a lot of channa or Bengal gram follows the paddy.

At Salban we have kept around five acres of land free to plant grains. The rice we have grown on these fields in subsequent years has been eclectic and to meet the needs of Salban only. We’ve grown mainly a traditional paddy of the region called Satheeya, which gives a flavoursome red grain, rich in fibre. Right now we have over two quintals in the storeroom, and it’s the main rice served to our guests and eaten by the staff. Ironically, it’s not grown anymore by local farmers, since it doesn’t fetch a high yield or good sale price. The farms around here are dominated by hybrid rice promoted by the government and cooperatives, and of course bolstered by the fertilizer and pesticide industries. Eating polished white rice is as much a symbol of upward mobility as packaged chips and biscuits, and for the new generation this is the norm. Local people always recognize and appreciate traditional rice varieties and say they are tasty. They relish Satheeya and other brown rice that is cooked at the Salban kitchen, but visit their homes, and you will just come across the post green revolution hybrids.

Satheeya ready for harvest

Last year we grew a sticky wild rice sourced from the Dima Hasao district in Assam and it did well here. Both Satheeya and the wild rice were a big curiosity at the local rice mill at the nearby Deori village where these were husked and polished. Everyone gathered around to have a look and feel the grain.

This year, we have experimented with four local rice varieties, the seeds of which we got from the NGO Pradan’s seed bank. We visited Raju, the custodian of this bank, in his village and looked at his astounding collection of over 120 different local rice varieties that he had put together over the years. We were mainly looking for Kali Moonch (literally black moustache), a nutritious local variety that we had heard a lot about. Raju had kept five kgs of Kali Moonch seeds for us in exchange for the same amount of Satheeya seeds that we gave him. But, as a bonus, he also gave us a small amount of Kala Jeera, a dark seeded slender and fragrant rice variety, used mainly to make kheer.

We also picked up a forgotten local curiosity called Bhalu Dabra (literally bear rice) which had a stiff hair hook on the upper tip of the seed. Apparently, wild animals avoid eating this paddy as they find that hook uncomfortable to deal with! There was just enough Bhalu Dabra to make seeds. And it turned into an elegant purple leafed plant that grew so tall that with the late rains it simply keeled over and touched the ground. We had to harvest it before it grew its hook, but the seeds look mature and we will have to wait and see if these turn into hooked Bhalu Dabra's next season.

Bhalu Dabra

Kali Moonch, however, grew well with slender black seeds that look so different from any other varieties of paddy we have seen. Peeling the husk, the rice does not seem to have the thick red coating that Satheeya has. We can’t wait to eat it.

Above: Kali Moonch. Below: The process of mechanical threshing.