RIYADH, 4 August 2006 — India still remains an agrarian state in spite of its rising economy thanks to the manufacturing and IT sectors. According to the stories of Indian villagers, whose land a short while ago was parched and now flooded, there is no good news for that stratum of Indian society.

Farming communities in Gujarat, southern Maharashtra and northern Karnataka have been particularly badly hit as their precious crops lie under water. Ironically the region was battling with famine recently and is now suffering from excess rains. The monsoon is not yet over but thousands of people living on the edge of the River Krishna, that cuts through Karnataka and Maharashtra, are holding prayers and hoping the skies do not burst any more. Even if their prayers go answered — which is unlikely — the future of these affected villages appears doomed for the simple reason that water is being continuously released into the river to avoid dams overflowing.

Moreover, the worst-case possibility of a breach in just one of the dams, out of several that dot the upper riparian state of Maharashtra, looms large. Water levels in the Koyana dam, which provides water to villages in south Maharashtra, have already gone up forcing the authorities to take the unpopular step of releasing water into the already swollen Krishna. Given the past year’s terrible sequence of events, the army has been called into the area.

“People are scared as they are totally cut off but we need to muster all the courage and face the situation,” says Ramesh who runs a medical shop in the village of Ugar Khurd, parts of which is presently under water. These are brave words but the fact remains that there are more villages that remain cut-off from the outside world. The villages have been transformed into small islands and traffic has come to a stand still as the roads in the hinterland are washed away.

Even if there were some respite in rain, the water gushing from the dams through rivers and their numerous tributaries would continue to send fear among villagers. Meanwhile, danger is looming in many places. The administration has already shifted families to safer places and is busy making arrangements for food and accommodation.

Villagers remain scared because of the rapidly rising water level, which has risen by five feet in a short space of time in some places. Similar to last year, people fear a large-scale devastation this fear is further emphasized as thousands of acres of standing crops have already been washed away and makeshift houses have been destroyed while concrete buildings remain under water.

Should the rains stop, people expect politicians and bureaucrats from Bangalore, Bombay and New Delhi to make their customary aerial surveys, announce distribution of emergency relief and even cash compensation to affected families and farmers. One farmer in the village of Mastmardi has already committed suicide saying he was unable to bear losses because the excess rains destroyed his potato crop.

The economic impact can be far reaching. “We are used to their empty promises and lip services,” say angry villagers pointing at last year’s delay and even denial of government sanctioned “crumbs.”

The red tape and future financial aid aside, all that villagers at this stage can do is keep praying because heavy rain is a distinct possibility in coming days and weeks. August traditionally brings a lot of rain. It seems that unlike humans, nature on its part believes in giving its full even if it that means too much.