Planting trees, saving heritage

Once you make your way to unit no. 18 of the adivasi gaothan at Aarey Colony, it’s another kilometre’s walk to Prakash Bhoir’s house in Kelti Pada. Taking a tiny crossing, followed by a tree-flanked, narrow, kaccha lane, you feel like you’ve left the city behind.

Bhoir started building this green shed on his family’s 1.5 acre plot during childhood. He’s not been counting, but is sure he’s planted ‘over 500 trees’. His house blends into the natural surroundings with its earthy exterior and sloped roofs. Inside, the walls painted pink and green are decorated by wonderful Warli artwork (on dry wild mushrooms, caps of coconuts, wood and fabric) done by his daughter.

The 48-year-old recalls, “Our patch mostly had wild undergrowth; I started growing trees as they provide shade, bear fruit and beautify the place.”

While a majority comprises fruit trees of banana, chickoo, mango and coconut, he’s also grown banyan, gulmohar and other non-commercial ones. A large part of Bhoir’s income comes from his job with BMC’s Water Department, fruit trees and farm produce. “People come to us for vegetables and seasonal fruits. My wife only goes out to sell when there’s excess or unsold produce.”

His wife and brothers do most of the cultivation, but he too joins in after his 6 am–2 pm duty and gets his sons to lend a hand in their spare time, after college. “Kids pick up things from elders, seeing us work, they also do it with interest and have begun planting trees. Since I’m doing this since long, sometimes trusts donate 50–100 trees and individuals give me saplings. Many ritually sow coconut opposite temples in their house, but have no space to allow it to grow, so once leaves shoot out, they bring it here.”

About 5-6 times a year, students doing independent projects or studying at Patkar and TISS camp at his rustic guest house, adjacent to his home; he familiarises them with the trees and imparts know-how. The stay and tour are free, but those who wish can do community work and receive certificates from Shramjivi Sanghatana, he’s their Deputy Chief, Mumbai.

“When I was a kid, no one except us came here, it was like a forest and gave us plenty of water and food like fish, crabs and monitor lizards, and herbs and plants for medicinal cure,” recalls Bhoir. “The government took away hundreds of acres from us for SRPF, the Veterinary College, Force 1, etc and made us dependent. In return, we’re not even given the promised basic necessities of water and electricity,” laments Bhoir, who did a paraprofessional course in social work from Nirmala Niketan in 1997. 15 years ago, I joined the sangathna to speak up for our rights. As for planting more trees, he has “no space left,  the existing ones need breathing.”