Don’t spill

The drought has also forced farmers to look elsewhere for a source of livelihood. Until two years ago, Sachin Jadhav, a class VII drop-out, and his brother helped their father reap rich harvests of sugarcane and bananas on their 15 acres. Now, he has switched to driving a four-wheeler he bought after taking a loan.

Jadhav’s village, Pangri, is a dusty brown settlement of mud houses with thatched roofs. Jobless men sit around playing cards all day. ‘‘Though we are facing a severe water shortage, until recently, our village had not been declared drought-affected,’’ says 52-year-old farmer Eknath Lagad. “So none of the drought-related schemes applied to us.’’

Villagers claim they have held rasta rokos on the highway to press for their demands but it has yielded nothing. ‘‘We were promised that three canals nearby would be opened up for us but only one was opened and just for a month or so,’’ Lagad said.

‘‘We did have a tanker visiting the village last year. But the driver would make only one trip a day instead of the five he was making money for,’’ Jadhav recalls. ‘‘One day, frustrated, we beat him up and he stopped coming.’’

Corruption at various levels is rampant, say villagers; they don’t question authorities any more. ‘‘Kuni CM sahebanna kadhi aana ikde (Somebody should bring the CM here some day),’’ Lagad sighs, mounting his bicycle.