Wild Greens

Yesterday, while walking through the forest, I came across a Kokum tree — heavily loaded with fruit.

Some were still green.
Some had turned deep red-purple.
And many ripe fruits had already fallen to the ground, quietly completing their cycle.

I picked one from the fallen fruit.

The skin had softened slightly from ripening. Inside, the pulp was intensely coloured — rich, juicy, almost wine-like in appearance. What is interesting about Kokum is that its colour deepens as it matures, due to the development of anthocyanin pigments, the same natural compounds responsible for red-purple shades in many wild fruits.

Kokum (Garcinia indica) is native to the Western Ghats and thrives in humid, high-rainfall regions like Konkan, Goa, coastal Karnataka, and parts of Kerala.

But traditionally, it was never valued only for taste.

In coastal food systems, Kokum played multiple roles:
- as a souring agent in the absence of tamarind,
- as a balancing ingredient in hot and humid climates,
- and as a preservation ingredient because of its naturally acidic nature.

Interestingly, Kokum trees are also highly adapted to the ecology of the Western Ghats. They tolerate heavy monsoon conditions remarkably well and often survive for decades with minimal intervention once established.

Another overlooked aspect is timing.

The fallen ripe fruits are often at a completely different stage from the ones still attached to the tree. The sugars, acidity, texture, and aroma continue changing rapidly after ripening — which is why traditional communities handled Kokum differently depending on maturity.

Walking through forests during fruiting seasons teaches something important:
nature does not produce uniformly.

Every fruit on the same tree can tell a different stage of the story.

Water changes everything.

Before the drilling began, we performed a simple pooja.
Not because technology needs ritual —
but because agriculture teaches humility.

You prepare the land.
You study the terrain.
You invest effort, time, and faith.
But in the end, water is never guaranteed.

The machine entered the earth layer by layer —
through dry soil, stone, heat, and dust.

And then, finally, water emerged.

Not just as a resource,
but as relief.
As possibility.
As the beginning of the next stage of work.

For a farm, water is not infrastructure alone.
It decides what can grow, what can survive, and what can be sustained over time.

Today, the land answered back.

And the farm moved one step closer to becoming real..