The Enigma of Palm and Plate: An AgriSciense Odyssey
- Sudip Sinha
- Aug 14, 2024
- 5 min read
In the oppressive heat of summer, AgriSciense embarked on an expedition that would take us through India's disparate landscapes. Our first sojourn was in Hapur, a name at once familiar and remote, its dusty streets a prelude to the journey ahead. Beyond lay the humid shores of Goa, a land of paradoxes.
FARMER HOBBIT : Here, Mr. Bilbo, where are you off to?
BILBO : Can't stop, I'm already late!
FARMER HOBBIT : Late for what?
BILBO : I'm going on an adventure!
Best Laid Plans…
The small town of Hapur, about 50 miles east of New Delhi, greeted us with its characteristic clamor, a cacophony that belied the logistical quagmire we soon found ourselves in. For the next two days, we scoured the town for an electrician, our quest for drill and hammer support revealing the precarious nature of our preparations. When assistance finally materialized, it was a stark reminder of our dependence on local networks. The experience reminded us of the need for greater self-reliance in future out-of-town field trials, lest we find ourselves at the mercy of capricious fortune.
Goa: A Palimpsest of Tradition and Innovation
मैं अकेला ही चला था जानिब-ए-मंज़िल मगर
लोग साथ आते गए और कारवाँ बनता गया
(Alone, I set out towards my destination, but
Along the way, people joined, and we became a caravan)
Deboarding at Dabolim airport, I was met by the ominous rumble of monsoon clouds. The journey to the farm in South Goa unfolded as a visual phantasmagoria—lush landscapes and serene coastlines flitting past the window, relentlessly pursued by the brooding monsoon sky. Yogesh, my driver and unexpected confidant for the journey, appeared lost in reverie. Over shared meals and cups of chai, we exchanged life stories, our disparate backgrounds converging in this moment.
The Farm: Witnessing The Dance of Indra Dev
“Well begun is half done,” I was told. If that holds true, we were in for a fantastic field trial as it had begun spectacularly!
The 400-acre mixed forest farm stood as a testament to the curious blend of tradition and modernity. Its manager, a veteran of the industry, received us with the effusive hospitality typical of Konkani culture – a warmth that felt both genuine and somehow performative. Seated in the family's living room, with their black Labrador, Blacko, sprawled at my feet, I experienced a disquieting sense of belonging despite being far from what I considered home.
The day was spent traversing the property in a Tata Yodha, under the tutelage of Abhijeet. He offered a rapid education in local topography, soil composition, and farm operations. The family's efforts to revitalize the farm since its conversion to organic methods were, by any measure, impressive. Abhijeet, formerly of BMW India's strategy division, was spearheading the farm's metamorphosis into an agritourism destination – the "Sula Vineyard of Goa," as he put it with unmistakable pride.
From the vantage point, I dubbed the Eagle's Nest, we witnessed nature's grand spectacle – lightning striking the defunct tin mines with metronomic precision. The mines, once symbols of human industry, now served as nature's lightning rods, a poignant metaphor for the region's evolving relationship with its landscape.
Before commencing our field trials, I was invited to join the family in a traditional Konkani breakfast. Thalipeeth, a dish I had encountered before, yet here it seemed transfigured. Made from corn flour, onion, and green chilies, with the addition of grass sourced from distant Belgaum, it bore the weight of history and place. As I consumed this rustic fare, I felt like a warrior of yore, being fed before heading out for battle. The irony and absurdity of this comparison – my technological quest juxtaposed against such primordial imagery – was not lost to me. As I savored it, I was struck by how our culinary traditions could still surprise me – nutty, earthy, with a sweetness that reminded me of the complexity of our mission.
To Business.
The Field Trials: Hurry Up And Wait
The following days were devoted to testing Ranger V1.0. We surveyed the farm's infestation, identifying a suitable tree near pest entry points. I unpacked my "bag of tricks," eliciting bemused looks from my field compatriots, their expressions a mixture of skepticism and curiosity, and quickly installed the first device.
In a moment of inspiration, I enlisted James, one of the farmhands, to attempt the next installation. After a perfunctory demonstration, James attempted to install the device and, to my delight, did so quickly. James's swift mastery of the process was a pointed reminder of the often-overlooked capabilities of those we come to "help." My pride in wielding a drill and hammer suddenly seemed misplaced and faintly ridiculous.
The days following assumed a rhythm: mornings spent overseeing installations, afternoons spent aimlessly walking and conversing with staff, punctuated by futile attempts to connect with the outside world through capricious mobile networks. Evenings brought the comforting familiarity of Blacko's wagging tail and the promise of another wonderful meal.
Easy does it – James installing Ranger V1.0
Progress and Promise: Hope Springs Eternal
The first-day trial turned out to be anticlimactic, and that is putting it mildly. The SD cards meant to capture vital data sat uselessly outside their slots. This inauspicious start prompted a day of introspection, and the weight of our mission's presumed importance suddenly felt like a millstone. The following day was spent reflecting (I had many hours to do that anyway), with Faiz coming into my thoughts frequently as the evening progressed.
दिल ना उमीद तो नहीं, नाकाम ही तो है
लंबी है ग़म की शाम, मगर शाम ही तो है
(The heart is not hopeless, just unsuccessful;
The evening of sorrow is long, but it is just an evening)
The subsequent days yielded data - whether "solid" or merely comforting in its existence, I couldn't say. Narendra confirmed it later on. We gathered sufficient reference points for infected (Red Palm Weevil and Rhinoceros Beetle) and non-infected trees, lending scientific legitimacy to our second field trial. As our sojourn in Goa drew to a close, I found myself buoyed by a sense of accomplishment. Armed with our technology and determination, we had come to combat the Red Palm Weevil. With each passing day, each successful installation, and each conversation with the farmers, our confidence grew.
As the plane lifted off, I felt a sense of accomplishment and excitement. Our trials in Goa had proven successful, giving us the confidence to tackle the date palm plantations in our next field trial in South India. This journey wouldn’t have been possible without the selfless support of kind folks like Dinesh Sir, Abhijeet, and so many others. Ever grateful!
Reference
Taken from The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey Movie Script, compiled by www.Scripts.com
All photographs and videos from personal collection. Not available for distribution.
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