In Rajasthan, the Aravallis can’t be simply measured | India News

The range has shaped everything — from livelihoods to culture, beliefs and languages ​​— for the many communities and tribes it holds. Even a dispute over an official definition has forced the Supreme Court to seek a review, say voices on the ground Araballis‘The impression goes beyond the physical dimensionWhat is Araballi? An answer to this seemingly straightforward question was shelved by the Supreme Court last December because it sparked public outrage for being too narrow in scope. The top court now wants a new criteria for determining the range, which stretches 600 km across four states and represents India’s oldest fold mountains, nearly 2 billion years old. But talk to people on the ground in Rajasthan, the state synonymous with the Aravalli kingdom, and it becomes clear that these mountains measure not so much in their height, but how deeply they have shaped the lives of the people who call the landscape home.Demarcation involves a height cutoff of 100 meters and a proximity of 500 meters between hills – the now shelved definition inspired fears of stripping a significant portion of the Aravallis from ecological protection. For the people living in its fold, the turn is immediate: as the map shrinks, so do the forests, grazing commons, water systems, sacred groves and checks that stand between community life and mining, fragmentation and forced migration.Shelter and sustenanceAdivasi writer and former IPS officer Hari Ram Meena says, “Araballi and our community have a bond that goes back centuries. These mountains are not just geography for us. They are a living deity, central to our identity and survival.”

The Aravallis are home to some of the oldest communities in Rajasthan. Before the rise of the Kachwaha Rajputs, the Meena tribe once ruled large parts of the Jaipur region, controlling the strategic routes to Aravalli. In southern Rajasthan, the Bhil chieftains ruled over vast forest lands. “The Bhils were known as the ‘Kings of the Forest’. Their role was so important that the royal coat of Mewar depicted a Rajput warrior on one side and a Bhil warrior on the other,” adds Meena.The mountains also shaped the war. During Maharana Pratap’s resistance against the Mughals, the Aravallis enabled guerilla tactics and clandestine movements based on local knowledge of forests, mountain passes and water sources.If you protect the mountains, they will survive. Aravalli is the ecological backbone of Rajasthan. It regulates climate, prevents desertification, feeds rivers like the Bans, Luni and Sabarmati and helps forests survive in an arid landscape. It is also a cultural watershed, which not only separates the river systems flowing into the Arabian Sea and the Bay of Bengal, but also shapes traditions, languages ​​and lifestyles.

For communities like Bhil, Meena, Garasia, Saharia, Raika, Rewari, Magia, Nath and Gurja, the mountains are not an asset, but a living presence. Temples, sacred groves, hilltop shrines, and forest deities dot the landscape and the mountains are regarded as ‘prakriti tirtha’, a sacred geography.Embedded in everyday lifeLife in Aravalli has always revolved around forest produce, livestock and water. Communities collect food, firewood, medicinal plants, bamboo, tamarind leaves and wild fruits from the forest. Rain-fed terraced farming supports hardy crops such as millet and pulses, while hill slopes provide grazing grounds for cattle, sheep, goats and camels.Traditional water systems are central to survival. ‘Johads’, stepwells, rivers and baori – collectively constructed and maintained – collect rainwater and recharge groundwater. “Our water structures are our lifelines. They are protected not by law, but by community policy,” Meena said.Social activist Kunj Bihari Sharma explains how human and animal life are deeply intertwined here. “Araballi forest is not just green,” he says. “They are a source of fuel, fodder, herbs and water. During summer, even wild animals depend on village wells and pastures. People and wildlife live together.”But this balance is constantly destroyed. For years, communities were told that the forests belonged to the state, not them. “Earlier, people used to build johad through collective labour. Now, that too is restricted. At the same time, illegal mining and stone mafias hollow out the hills,” says Sharma.Nowhere is the impact more pronounced than in the Denotified Tribes (DNTs) and nomadic communities, whose livelihoods depend entirely on grazing. Gopal Keshwat, former chairperson of the Development and Welfare Board for Denotified, Nomadic, and Semi-Nomadic Communities, warns that mining has triggered a deep livelihood crisis. “Pastoral communities survive on cattle, milk, wool and hides. When pastures are destroyed, their entire economy collapses,” he says.Keshwat says that about 10% of India’s nomadic population and over one crore people in Rajasthan depend on the Aravalli-connected ecosystem. He recalled that commissions like the Iyengar Committee and the Balakrishna Renke Commission had clearly recommended a ban on mining in Aravalli and separate pastures for DNT communities. “These recommendations were meant to protect both people and nature. Ignoring them puts animals and people at equal risk,” he said. But, where laws fail, cultural practices continue to protect biodiversity.Living mountainsAcross Rajasthan, ‘orans’, or community-protected sacred groves, remain untouched due to religious beliefs. Social sanction rather than written rules prohibit logging and hunting in these forests, which are dedicated to local deities such as Bhadraba Dev and Pandurimata.Among the strongest expressions of this belief is the Gawari dance of the Bhil community. Dedicated to Shiva and Parvati and performed for over 45 days by men in parts of Udaipur district, the dance is both spiritual and environmental – what social activist Kishan Gurjar calls “not entertainment, but worship of nature”. “Deforestation is considered a sin, and Gowari spreads the message of conservation,” adds Gurjar.Aravallis are also deeply associated with nomadic communities like Sapera or Kalbeliya. “Kalbelia learned to live with snakes, treat snakebites and understand forest behavior,” says social justice researcher Naveen Narayan, who has worked with these groups for more than 20 years. Kalbelia was once seen as a protector of the village, not for entertainment. Between mining and forest loss, Narayan warns that the shrinking araballi is not only threatening their livelihoods, but also the traditional wisdom that has connected people to nature for generations.Manish Barod, block president of the Scheduled Area Reservation Front in Udaipur, said, “The survival of the Araballi is largely due to the tribal community. These hills have protected the people and the people have protected the hills.” It’s a link that has been repeatedly emphasized in looking to the future of the Aravallis, with activists and stakeholders saying that protecting the hills is much more than a simple definition. “Reducing the Aravalli to physical dimensions belies its reality. It is a socio-ecological organism in which folk culture, agriculture and community knowledge are deeply intertwined,” said the sociologist. Shyam beautiful jayaniWhat is at stake is not just the forests or the hills, but the living memory of Rajasthan — its language, rituals, arts and lifestyles developed over millennia.Mountains that define art, cultureOn the banks of the river Bans, which originates in Aravalli, is the village of Molela, famous for its terracotta sculptures of deities. Ask the potter lord Gameti, and he says the craft exists because of the mountains. “The clay from bamboo is smooth and pliable. When fired, it doesn’t crack. That’s why last generation idols are made here,” he explains.Researcher and folk artist Madan Meena warns that environmental destruction directly erases culture. “When livelihoods are disrupted, people migrate. And when people migrate, languages ​​die,” he said, noting the more than two dozen languages ​​and dialects, many existing only in oral tradition, that are spoken in the region. An art form carries hundreds of words associated with seasons, tools, etc “When an art form disappears, an entire vocabulary disappears with it,” he saysCommunities such as the Mogiyas, who gather medicinal herbs, and the Naths, whose temples are located deep in mountains such as Pandupol, show how faith, livelihood and landscape merge seamlessly. Also, Jain temples, Buddhist remains and folk temples together reflect the religious diversity of Aravallis. CS Sharma, professor of history at Udaipur, said, “The Aravallis prevented cultural cohesion in Mewar. Its geography ensured the diversity of the region.”