Driving through the thorny scrub forests around Alwar a fortnight ago, we came across acres of orchards of amla, the Indian gooseberry. It was the fruiting season, and the trees were heavily weighed down by the excellent amla crop this year. Since I love the sweetly astringent taste of the fruit, of course, I had to stop. We walked under the amla trees, sand underfoot and the sun shining hotly overhead. A few pipes lay criss-crossed the orchard like underfed pythons, making me wonder how could anything grow in such desert-like conditions. Just then, a man walked up to us and asked if we wanted to buy some amlas.
“These are really good for health,” he said, launching into what was clearly a well-rehearsed spiel. “They say an apple a day keeps the doctor away. But an amla a day will have doctors flocking to you, wanting to know the secret of your good health and longevity.” He didn’t realise he was in fact preaching to the pulpit. I’ve long been aware that the fruit is one of the richest natural sources of Vitamin C, and contains high amounts of minerals such as phosphorous, calcium and iron. But a chat with him helped me understand how this healthy fruit had come to provide villagers in this dusty desert village with the healthy bottom line, as well.
His name was Ram Singh, and he owned a small piece of land with 30 amla trees. “When I was a child, this land was left fallow because it was rocky and had limited irrigation,” said he. For the want of anything better, his father planted amla trees some 20 years ago. “At that time, very few people actually grew amla trees. They were naturally found in these jungles, and my grandmother would ask us to collect the fruit, so that she could dry and powder the fruit for darkening her hair,” said he. “Villagers also made traditional medicines to treat cough, cold and even diarrhoea with amla. But the use of these medicines declined, with most people beginning to use allopathic medicines instead. So, there wasn’t much of a demand for the fruit.” Singh’s father found that the trees were fairly hardy and well suited to the region’s arid climate, so he decided to maintain the orchard, though he didn’t make much money from it.
In the last decade, this changed. “The demand for amla has improved considerably over the years. People have become aware of its health benefits and the government is encouraging the making of amla pickles, squash and candies,” said he. As a result, Singh has been able to sell his crop for Rs 15-30 a kilo. Given that some of his trees yield about 200 kilos of fruit every year, it’s good money for this marginalised farmer. What’s more, amla cultivation requires relatively little effort.
“Of course, I’ve to guard against pests like Stem Borers,” said he, “but these trees are relatively hardy.” Regular pruning of branches is required to strengthen them, else they collapse with the weight of the fruit. “Irrigation here is rain-dependent. But while amla survives well in arid conditions, it fruits better with extra irrigation during the blooming season. Last year, the weather gods were kind to us,” said he. Consequently, the harvest has been good.
Singh is now looking to expand the orchard using seedlings from the government nursery. Many of his neighbours are also planting amla, recognising its economic potential. “But I have the head start on them,” he said smugly. As he and I bit into the tart fruit, he smiled and said, “I had never imagined I would like this fruit so much. To me, it now tastes sweet...”
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