In An Arid Pocket Of Rajasthan, Women Are Conserving Vanishing Grasslands
In a unique initiative, the women are harvesting and saving up grass seeds to ensure that their livelihoods as farmers is protected
Just after Diwali, when the air in Udaipur district of Rajasthan turns crisp and the monsoon’s green fades into gold, women from Richwada village can be seen bending low over the land, palms brushing the dry blades of kali lap (a variety of grass native to the Mewar region), eyes searching for seeds as thin as hair.
“Yeh sab ghaas pehle bas mil jaati thi. Ab humko dhoondni padti hai (we have to now search for this grass that used to grow everywhere earlier),” says Manju Kumari, 24, a farmer from the Garasia community, her sari tucked high as she shakes a bunch of grass over a cloth bag.
For Manju and 23 others from her village these rare seeds are crucial for their ecosystem – a degrading landscape and vanishing grasslands that sustain their ecology and livelihoods.
In a unique initiative, the women are now working on conserving these grasslands by harvesting and saving up grass seeds. “You can buy seeds for crops and vegetables from the market or from a fellow farmer or other sources. But we never found any source for grass seeds. One would think that grass can grow anywhere, that it needs no care, no wisdom, no memory. But what happens when the grass is gone?” says Rekha Kumari, from Kundlavas village.
Globally, grasslands are among the most endangered ecosystems but also the least protected. They cover nearly 40% of the Earth’s surface and host over 30% of terrestrial carbon, according to the Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO). Unlike forests, whose loss is often visible, the decline of grasslands happens quietly, through overgrazing, invasive weeds, and conversion to cropland, experts say.
India’s grasslands once stretched across 18 million hectares but have shrunk to 12.3 million hectares between 2005 and 2015, as per the Wildlife Institute of India. Between 1880 and 2010, India lost 20 million hectares of grassland and shrubland, according to data presented at the International Grasslands Congress.
The loss of these ecosystems has far-reaching implications: reduced fodder availability, increased soil erosion, lower groundwater recharge, and loss of wildlife habitats.
No Fodder For Cattle
Until a few years ago, women like Manju walked up to 15 km every day to find enough fodder for their cattle because the once green hills around them had grown bare. And the Garasia Adivasi community, primarily found in the forested regions of Rajasthan and Gujarat, relies heavily on cattle rearing for their mixed-economy lifestyle.
Men from the village migrated to cities like Udaipur and Ahmedabad for construction work, leaving women to manage farms, livestock, and the forest commons. These villages lie on the fringes of the Kumbalgarh wildlife sanctuary, restricting their access to grasslands within the protected areas for grazing.
“There was a time when our cattle didn’t have to walk far for fodder,” recalls Devli Bai, 43, from Nangajii ka guda village, who has spent her life tending to animals. “After the monsoon, the hills around our village would turn green, covered with tall grasses. You could see herds grazing freely from one slope to another. The sound of cowbells filled the air. Our animals were healthy, and so were we because their milk, dung, and even their strength in the fields kept our homes running. We never thought the grass could disappear.”
Gradually all that changed. And Devli Bai would often return home after sunset, empty-handed, tired, and scared, because wild animals also roam these routes. Fields began to replace the grasslands and trees were cut to make room for crops. Then the rains became uncertain, and year after year, the grass thinned. The cattle grew weak, their milk yield declined and many families have had to sell their animals, says Devil Bai.
“You see, our cattle are not just animals,” Indra Bai, 32, says. “They are part of our ecosystem. Their dung keeps our soil alive, their grazing keeps weeds in check, and their milk feeds our children. When the grasslands vanish, the animals vanish. We are Garasias, cattle herders by tradition, and without our herds, we are rootless.”
Carbon Pool
In Richwada, part of Kadech Gram Panchayat, 24 women have taken charge of conserving their 42-hectare pastureland and 135-hectare grassland area since 2022. Belonging largely to the Garasiya and Gameti tribal communities, they have been collecting, conserving, and selling seeds of native grass species such as Kali Lap, Seran (used for brooms), and Jujali (A fodder grass).
Globally, scientists are turning their attention to grasslands as carbon reservoirs. Unlike forests, whose carbon is stored above ground, grasslands store nearly 70% of their carbon underground—in roots and soil organic matter. This means even when grasses burn or are grazed, their carbon pools remain largely intact.
Studies have also found that grasslands are more resilient to climate extremes than forests in semi-arid zones.
“In the semi-arid landscapes of southern Rajasthan, agriculture depends heavily on rainfall and reviving grasslands can become a natural climate adaptation strategy. Healthy grasslands retain moisture, stabilise topsoil, and buffer extreme weather events while supporting livestock and pastoral communities across India,” says Mohan Dangi, a member of International Land Coalition.
The idea was simple: harvest seeds before cutting the grass for fodder, store them carefully, and re-sow them in degraded patches.
“If you’re even a day late, the wind will take them and all your effort goes to waste,” says Manju with a laugh.
Harvesting begins after October, when the monsoon moisture still lingers in the soil. Each woman can collect up to 10 kg of seeds a day, carefully separating the mature heads before the seeds scatter. The task demands patience and precision.
Unlike short grasses, tall or tufted grasses, often growing between one to two metres high, require careful navigation through dense stands where visibility is low and terrain uneven. Seed maturity typically coincides with the end of the monsoon.
At this stage, the seed heads are gently beaten or hand-stripped to dislodge mature seeds without uprooting the plants. “We don’t take everything,” explains Manju. “Half is for us, half for the land.”
The timing is crucial: if harvesting is done too early, seeds are underdeveloped and have poor germination rates; too late, and wind or grazing animals disperse them.
The harvested seeds are spread out to dry under shade, cleaned, and stored in breathable jute sacks for aeration. This traditional yet precise method ensures high-quality seed recovery and allows natural regeneration, as part of the grass stand is intentionally left uncut to reseed the landscape for the next season.
New Livelihood
Grass seed collection has become a new livelihood niche. A bundle of grass, enough to feed a family’s cattle for a day, sells at Rs 20 in local markets. In 2024, the women from this village collectively earned Rs 1,43,929 by selling grass seeds.
About 20 km from here in Kundlavas village, women have been operating a seed bank for these seeds along with tree seeds for the past three years. The seed bank barters various tree and grass seeds and currently hosts 12 different varieties. The seed bank is supported by the Foundation for Ecological Security (FES).
“Seed banks function like gene libraries. These seeds support adaptive evolution and can increase the capacity of ecosystems to respond to droughts, temperature shifts, and other climate shocks,” says Vinod Paliwal, from FES.
This conservation effort creates a genetic insurance policy for the future, turning the women into stewards of both ecology and identity, observe experts.
“Community-based seed harvesting ensures genetic diversity and local adaptation,” explains Dangi. “Unlike commercial seeds, these native varieties are already suited to the local climate, drought-tolerant, pest-resistant, and compatible with the local soil microbiome.”
Rajasthan’s Grasslands, Rajasthan’s Women
As we said earlier, erratic rainfall, overgrazing, and shifting land use have degraded many pastures and forest commons in Rajasthan’s semi-arid terrain, home to over 500 species of grasses and ideal for pastoralism and mixed farming. Earlier this year, the state government launched the Vanaspati Seed Bank initiative, committing to establishing 150 seed banks across the state to conserve native species of grasses and trees.
“Earlier we only thought of grass as fodder,” says Indrabai, one of the seed conservers. “Now we see its seeds as a resource. If our land has more seed, our soil and water stay longer too.”
Women have always been custodians of seeds, whether it’s grains, millets, or grasses, says Asha Cholaviya, field coordinator at FES, because they hold the knowledge of timing, weather, and soil fertility that formal science often overlooks.
Yet their labour remains invisible. They walk miles each day, often through snake-infested fields, balancing sickles, baskets, and sometimes infants on their hips. When asked what keeps them going, Inndrabai Bai replies with a smile: “It’s not written anywhere that only men can bring back the land.”
[This story is part of a new series “Climate Leaders: Women in Local Climate Action”, a collaboration between Womanity and Behanbox.]
All the stories in the series can be read here.
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