The book that brought ponds back to life

Translated into eight languages and available in Braille, Anupam Mishra ’s book has quietly sparked a revolution in water conservation across villages — one pond at a time


What do you call a book that was first published without the author’s name on the cover, which has no copyright and encourages the reader to use it for free in any form, inspires common people to spend money from their own pockets and translate it, can be read in at least nine languages, including Marathi, Bengali, Tamil, and also in Braille, has been broadcast by at least 20 radio stations with over two lakh copies published, has almost become a holy book for water warriors and, yet, remains largely unknown to the educated public.

Anupam Mishra’s ‘ Aaj Bhi Khare Hain Talab (The Ponds Are Still Relevant)’ wasn’t launched in a farmhouse or nominated for major literary awards. But the book has become a movement. Spread over a frugal 119 pages, it reveals how ponds and lakes were fundamental to life and livelihoods across the country, and how their construction, preservation, and regeneration was embedded in community fabric — guided both by science and deeper philosophical values.

First published by the Gandhi Peace Foundation in Hindi in 1993, the book continues to find fresh readers in new languages and forms. This year, it has been made accessible online in a disabled-friendly e-text, says Kailash Pande of Delhi Blind School.

Ramon Magsaysay award recipient Rajendra Singh says that at a time when headlines rapidly shift from drought to flood, the book remains as relevant as ever. “The change in weather patterns is an outcome of climate change and global warming. The book shows how to adapt to and mitigate the current crisis,” says Singh, whose NGO Tarun Bharat Sangh also shaped Mishra’s early ideas.


Chasing Indigenous Wisdom

Aaj Bhi… was born out of Mishra’s extensive travels as a seeker and surveyor of India’s interiors in the 1980s. Mishra spoke less, listened more. A Gandhian by belief and environmentalist in action, he discovered a tradition of water-saving techniques in arid Rajasthan. In areas he couldn’t visit, Mishra sought the aid of friends and fellow travellers, naming each of them in the book. “The book harnessed indigenous water wisdom scattered across the country,” says social activist and old-time colleague Rakesh Dewan.

At the turn of the 20th century, India had 11-12 lakh ponds, the book says. Mishra referenced the 1907 gazetteer to show that the princely state of Rewa in north-eastern Madhya Pradesh had 5,000 ponds. Early 20th century Madras Presidency was home to 53,000 ponds. Who would believe that in the early 20th century, Delhi had 350 ponds, as a 1930 map illustrates. Dewan says that officers posted to Jabalpur during the British Raj were advised not to bring fans because the ponds there ensured a cool weather.

The book also details the craft of building ponds and devotes a chapter to their anonymous creators. Mishra illustrates how, for centuries, communities such as the Odhs, the Gonds, and the Ramnamis had dedicatedly constructed ponds. Such acts often cut across the caste spectrum. Building ponds was also part of the financial system. “Those who built ponds in the kingdom of Gond rajas got a tax break. This tradition was strong in Sambalpur region,” he writes.

Digging ponds was among the punishments meted out by the caste panchayats of Bundelkhand. Ponds permeate every sinew of life.

Deep Impact

Many found the book addictive. Some finished it in one go and keep revisiting it. “People were mesmerised,” says Bhopal-based journalist Shabbir Qadri, who translated the book into Urdu and distributed it for free at madrasas and panchayats.

Mishra, who passed away in 2016, would build a personal relationship with his readers. “I correspond with about 3,000-odd readers. The idea is to create awareness and build a movement through the book. You cannot do that without forming a long-standing relationship with them,” he told this reporter in 2004.

One such reader was Surendra Bansal , then a freelance graphic designer in Punjab’s Malerkotla. He learnt about the book from a piece by journalist Prabhas Joshi in ‘Jansatta’ newspaper. “I read that article four times and wrote to Anupam-ji,” he says. “I didn’t have the address, so I just wrote, Anupam Mishra, Delhi”. Miraculously, the letter reached its destination. Mishra sent him two of his books with a hand-written note in his signature style.
Bansal read the book and, then, translated it into Gurmukhi. He published it by selling off his prized cacti collection for Rs 11,000. “When Anupam-ji came to know about it, he first scolded me. Then he wept,” remembers Bansal, who now works for Haryana govt’s PR department. He has published five editions of the book in Gurmukhi. And he hasn’t stopped. Bansal regularly scans Punjabi magazines and sends free copies of the book to those he believes might be interested in water conservation. “I also distribute it to youth clubs and village libraries,” he says. Bansal has given away 6,200 copies so far.

The book has also been used to groom community leaders. Aaj Bhi… was introduced as part of the syllabus in Chitrakoot’s Mahatma Gandhi Gramin Vishwavidyalaya. “It was taught to graduate students in 313 centres in a leadership course,” says retired civil servant B Rajagopal Naidu. The book was also part of the Hindi syllabus for graduates in Mumbai University between 2017 and 2019.


Why It Still Matters

Rajendra Singh, known as the ‘Waterman of India’, says Aaj Bhi… made a deep impact in MP and Rajasthan. Naidu, whose tenure as DM of Sagar in MP during 2002-04 was marked by a host of water management initiatives, says the book helped mobilise people and build awareness around check dams, and small drinking water ponds.

He also remembers how the clean-up of Sagar’s sprawling Lakha Banjara lake got stuck due to a funds crunch. Help came in an unusual way. Film lyricist and Congress politician Vithalbhai Patel , who had penned the 1973 hit Bobby’s famous song, ‘Jhooth Bole Kawwa Kate’, went around every morning to the town’s different wards, asking people to donate Re 1 for the talab. The amount raised helped restore a huge portion of the lake.

Such examples abound. Singh of Tarun Bharat Sangh, which constructed at least 7,500 ponds, says that dozens of initiatives were undertaken in Jodhpur and Barmer districts. “A sarpanch from Bikaner’s Nakhoda village called me after reading the book seeking help to build ponds,” he recalls.

Chhatar Singh, a master of desert water conservation in Jaisalmer district, restored about 500 ponds, beris , and wells. A beri is a shallow well that harvests rainwater.

“Reading the book I felt my forefathers were talking to me. It was written in a way that inspired action,” says Chhatar, who was also impressed by Mishra’s book, ‘Rajasthan Ki Rajat Boondein (The Silver Drops Of Rajasthan)’. He explains Mishra’s approach: “If you had any doubts about building ponds, Anupamji would organise a gathering. He knew the answer, but would let the answer emerge from us.”

Eastern Rajasthan’s Lapodia village is a famous conservation success story. Its head Laxman Singh read Aaj bhi… and encouraged fellow villagers to do so too. Impressed by its message of reviving traditional methods, they undertook a textbook application of rainwater harvesting and water management techniques to transform a sun-dried area into a village of three fecund ponds — Dev Sagar, Phool Sagar, and Anna Sagar, with a 300 bigha meadow.

Laxman Singh says Mishra visited Lapodia twice every year for 30 years. “He was our guide and guru. Pehle woh insaan taiyar karte thhey, phir dharti (First, he readied people, then the land),” Laxman told this reporter in 2016. When the book’s Braille edition came out around 2009, Mishra visited Delhi Blind School, inspiring students to perform shramdan, or voluntary labour, recalls Pande.

Academic Annie Montaut, who has translated ‘Rajasthan Ki Rajat Boondein’ into French, writes how even prisoners of a French jail could relate to Mishra’s lecture on water conservation. Some recalled their own childhood in Morocco. “I was surprised by the reaction, he wasn’t. Anupam-ji told me that he had learnt a lot from the uneducated,” she wrote in Hindi to Mishra’s wife, Manjushree, for an upcoming book in tribute to her husband.

It is almost a cliché that a book can change your world. Mishra’s slim volume certainly reaffirms that adage. With global water shortage now an impending reality, the book’s significance has magnified in recent years. Today Aaj Bhi… is to water conservationists what Das Capital is to Marxists. A ratna of Bharat, Mishra never received even a Padmashri. But his book continues to usher in a silent revolution, one pond at a time.