About 22 kilometres from the Petlawad block headquarters in Jhabua district of Madhya Pradesh, the village of Kesarpura has a story to tell, one about the confidence of an entire community. A Halma was held here on 19 May 2026, and what followed convinced the village that the solution it had long sought from outside had been within it all along.

Halma is a word from the Bhili dialect, often translated as a “call for help”, and it means collective voluntary labour. When a family in the Bhil community is weighed down by a burden, whether raising a house, bringing in a harvest or facing a calamity, the word goes round the village and people come, unpaid and with their own tools, to stand by them. The message is simple: you are not alone. In Jhabua the tradition has also been turned to the work of saving water. Since 2009 the local organisation Shivganga has organised large Halmas for soil and water conservation, and one in February 2020 drew some 20,000 people from about 500 villages.

Kesarpura’s only pond had been waiting for exactly this tradition. Years of neglect had left it so choked with silt and weeds that its depth was shrinking, and so was its capacity to hold water. Seepage through one stretch of the embankment quietly drained away the rainwater it collected. This is a tribal district, where Scheduled Tribes made up about 87 per cent of the population at the 2011 Census, and a hilly one: as the district administration itself notes, water runs off the slopes instead of being held by the soil, so even good rainfall can leave villages short of water. In such a landscape a failing pond meant a direct threat to a full year of farming and to the water that livestock depend on. As summer set in, the pond bed would fill with cracks, and the village’s hopes would drain away with it.

Before the Halma: a dry pond bed, heaps of silt and seepage along the embankment. Photo: Mukesh Porwal, Block Facilitator, VAAGDHARA

The village knew the problem was big, but it also knew the solution lay in its own hands. With the support of the Gram Swaraj Samuh, a village self-governance group of ten women and ten men formed by VAAGDHARA, it was decided that a Halma would be held at the pond. The idea was not new to the area: less than a fortnight earlier, on 6 May, villagers of Borpada, also in Petlawad, had used a Halma to clear a silted public well after repeated appeals to the panchayat brought no result. On the morning of 19 May, Kesarpura showed its true strength.

It began not with speeches or formal announcements but with the beat of the dhol, kundi and thali. A rally wound through the village. Children ran ahead carrying a banner that read “Traditional Halma Method,” with the slogan beneath it: “Save water regularly, and the future is secure.” Behind them walked elders, youth and women, with someone from every household carrying a pickaxe, a spade or a metal pan.

The rally sets out to the beat of the dhol and thali, with a banner reading “Traditional Halma Method”; enthusiastic children lead the way. Photo: Mukesh Porwal, Block Facilitator, VAAGDHARA

Around 150 people gathered at the pond for the Halma. There is no attendance register and no list; people come of their own accord and leave having done more than they thought they could. Under the blazing sun, heads were covered with gamchas and dupattas, yet faces glowed instead of showing fatigue. The work divided itself. Some waded into the pond to cut the weeds, others dug out silt with pickaxes and spades, and the silt was loaded into pans and basins and handed to a long line of women. The pans passed from hand to hand and head to head, and the silt made its way out of the pond.

Men wielding pickaxes and spades on the pond bed, while women stand in line holding pans. Photo: Mukesh Porwal, Block Facilitator, VAAGDHARA

The role of women was the most remarkable part of the scene. Amid their household responsibilities, they stayed at the pond all day. Recalling that day, Basanti Ninama says that when the dhol sounded she could not sit at home, and standing in line with a pan on her head, it felt like work in her own courtyard.

Everyone also worked together to pile soil on the embankment where water had been seeping out, pressing it down and strengthening it. Clearing silt and weeds and strengthening the earthen bund are the standard steps in restoring a village pond, and those who know water conservation understand that the strength of the embankment and the depth of the pond decide how long a water body lasts. When noon came, the tools were set down, but the bond of togetherness did not break. Lunch, too, was cooked by everyone together on the pond’s bank. The women wove plates from tree leaves, and then everyone sat in a long row on colourful mats. An elderly woman and a small child ate the same meal on the same mat, and the true meaning of Halma came alive right there. Here, trust takes the place of accounts, and hard work and celebration blend into one another.

 Women making leaf plates: even the preparation of the meal was a collective effort. Photo: Mukesh Porwal, Block Facilitator, VAAGDHARA

The simplicity of the leaf plate is a lesson in itself. A plate made from tree leaves leaves no plastic waste and needs no water for washing. Leaf plates have long been part of community feasts across India, and researchers describe them as a renewable alternative to plastic disposables. At an event whose very purpose is to save water, this goes beyond symbolism and becomes practice. Traditions often carry such eco-friendly solutions quietly, without any announcement.

Those who restored the pond that day included Basanti Ninama, Ganga Ninama, Surta Ninama, Sundar Mavi, Anadu Maida, Devli Mori, Phula Katara, Seema Maida, Anita Katara, Kala Ninama, Sukhram Maida, Ukarlal Maida, Mansingh Ninama, Ukar Ninama, Laxman Ninama, Dilip Vasuniya, Gendu Mori, Khima Mori, Anil Maida and Sunil Katara. Though they differ in age and family, their experiences seem threaded on a single string. For Ganga Ninama it was an emotional day: generations of her family have drunk this pond’s water, and it pained her to see it buried under silt.

“The day the pond was cleaned, I felt we had repaid our debt.” – Ganga Ninama

For men like Sukhram Maida and Anil Maida, the experience changed the way they thought. They used to believe that work on the pond was the government’s job, but on the day of the Halma they realised that when a village comes together, it has no one to wait for. “Before the Halma, we thought the government would do this work. This time we understood that when the village becomes one, we don’t have to wait for anyone.” – Anil Maida. The thought was not unique to Kesarpura: at the Samuh meeting in Borpada, someone had remarked that waiting for the government could cost another three years.

“It was very hot, but nobody complained. We want our children to see how work for the village is done.” – Devli Mori

During the event, Paramesh Patidar, Implementation Leader at VAAGDHARA, spoke with the villagers and explained that Halma is not merely voluntary labour but a tradition of standing by one another in joy and sorrow and sharing collective responsibility.

Behind the scenes, Block Facilitator Mukesh Porwal and his team also played a vital role, working at every level from mobilising people to planning the work. The steady guidance of Team Leader Dharmendrasingh Chunawat gave direction to the entire effort.

After the Halma the village returned to its routine, but nobody expected the result to show so soon. The monsoon turned out weaker than hoped. The India Meteorological Department had forecast a below-normal season, and by late July Jhabua was among the Madhya Pradesh districts reporting rainfall 33 to 45 per cent below normal; by 9 September the district’s shortfall stood at about 36 per cent. There was every fear that the pond would once again be left only partly filled. But about three months later, around August 2026, when villagers looked towards the pond, it was filled to the brim with water.

Where dust once flew, calm water now stretches far into the distance; the green grass sprouting along the edge is proof of life’s return. Photo: Mukesh Porwal, Block Facilitator, VAAGDHARA

The greatest joy was that the seepage through the embankment had also stopped. The water that came had stayed. For farmers like Sunil Katara and Mansingh Ninama, the meaning was direct: their fields will get irrigation and their cattle will have drinking water.

It is worth asking why such ponds last. Studies of India’s water infrastructure describe a recurring cycle of construction, neglect and rebuilding, with upkeep after construction as the weak link, and village ponds that were once maintained by the communities who used them fell into disrepair as that responsibility moved elsewhere. Experience shows that when a water structure is built from outside by a contractor, its upkeep often becomes nobody’s responsibility; the embankment breaks, the silt returns, and within a few years the pond can be back to its old state. A structure built through voluntary labour creates an emotional bond. Someone who has put soil into it with their own hands cannot bear to see it deteriorate. This is Halma’s greatest invisible achievement: along with the structure, it raises a whole generation of guardians. One good season in a poor monsoon is encouraging, but it is early evidence rather than proof; how long the pond lasts will depend on the desilting and embankment care the village now commits to.

The hopes ahead are considerable. In the rabi season, when fields need water the most, this stored water can become the farmers’ mainstay. With water standing in the pond, groundwater levels in nearby wells and hand pumps may also improve; case studies of desilted village ponds in Maharashtra’s Marathwada region report that nearby borewells recharged and the irrigated area grew in both the kharif and rabi seasons. Greenery is returning to the embankment, and guarding it is now the village’s shared responsibility. Remove the silt, bind the embankment, hold the rain, raise the groundwater, then irrigate the fields: this entire cycle of water conservation now appears to be complete in Kesarpura.

Greenery on the strengthened embankment, with still water on one side. Photo: Mukesh Porwal, Block Facilitator, VAAGDHARA

One sees the tradition of the elders and the labour of the young, the support of women and families, and above all a collective resolve to do something for one’s own village.

Kesarpura’s story is a reminder that development does not always wait for help from outside. In a country where, by NITI Aayog’s 2018 assessment, some 600 million people face high to extreme water stress, and where even large investments in water structures struggle with upkeep once they are built, examples like this show that the key often lies in local knowledge and community ownership. Three things together have given this pond a new lease of life: tradition meeting present-day need, institutions staying in the role of facilitators (in Borpada, too, the Samuh gave villagers room to decide for themselves rather than handing them ready-made answers), and a village that regards its resource as its own. Halma did not remove only silt and weeds from Kesarpura’s pond; it rekindled hope in people’s hearts, and today that hope is as clear as the pond’s water.

India’s car vehicle market has crossed a significant threshold. In August, CNG, hybrid and electric vehicles together accounted for 41.95% of passenger-vehicle retail sales, narrowly overtaking petrol at 40.85%. For years, petrol has been the default choice for Indian car buyers. But now, data shows CNG accounted for 25.28% of passenger-vehicle sales, hybrids for 9.04% and electric vehicles for 7.63%. Together, they made up 41.95%, compared with petrol’s 40.85%.

The gap is only 1.1 percentage points. But the direction of the change is more significant than the margin. Just a year earlier, petrol had an advantage of nearly 11 percentage points over the combined alternative-fuel category. The data, released by the Federation of Automobile Dealers Associations (FADA), comes against the backdrop of a rapidly expanding passenger-vehicle market. Retail sales reached 4,02,398 units in August, up 16.14% from August 2025 and the first time monthly August sales crossed four lakh.

CNG Still Does Most of the Work

The numbers also show that India’s transition away from conventional petrol is not being driven by electric cars alone.

CNG remains by far the largest alternative, accounting for more than a quarter of passenger-vehicle retail sales. Its appeal is relatively straightforward: lower running costs without the range and charging concerns associated with battery-electric vehicles.

Hybrids occupy a different space. They allow buyers to reduce fuel consumption while retaining the convenience of a conventional refuelling network. Their 9.04% share indicates that consumers are increasingly willing to pay for fuel efficiency without making the complete switch to an electric vehicle. EVs accounted for 7.63% of passenger-vehicle retail sales. That remains a minority share, but the broader picture becomes more striking when other vehicle categories are considered.

Two-wheelers are Moving Faster

Electric two-wheelers crossed a new threshold in August. Of the 17,14,610 two-wheelers retailed during the month, 10.68% were electric. It was the first time their share crossed 10% in a non-festival month, compared with 7.66% in August 2025. Overall two-wheeler retail sales grew 19.69% year on year, although they fell 5.70% from July.

The three-wheeler market is even further along. Electric models accounted for 65.30% of three-wheeler retail sales in August. That contrast is important. India’s vehicle transition is not happening at one uniform speed. Where vehicles are driven intensively and operating costs have a direct effect on earnings — particularly in commercial and three-wheeler applications — electric powertrains are already gaining much stronger market share.

Commercial vehicles are moving more gradually. Electric models accounted for 5.18% of commercial-vehicle retail sales in August, up from 2.06% a year earlier. Total commercial-vehicle sales reached 90,769 units, a 14.45% year-on-year increase.

A Record Market, But not Without Warning Signs

Across all categories, Indian automobile dealers retailed 24,23,201 vehicles in August, up 17.51% from a year earlier. Two-wheelers, passenger vehicles, commercial vehicles, tractors and three-wheelers each recorded their highest-ever August retail volumes, according to FADA. But the month-on-month picture was weaker. Total retail sales were 6.48% below July, when the industry had recorded a record month.

The decline does not necessarily signal a reversal in demand. FADA attributed part of it to the seasonal monsoon lull and the timing of the festival calendar, with Ganesh Chaturthi and some Onam-related buying shifting into September. The passenger-vehicle market also faces a less visible problem: stock.

Dealer inventory increased to around 38–40 days, compared with FADA’s recommended 21 days. More than half of passenger-vehicle dealers reported higher inventory than in July. That leaves manufacturers and dealers heading into the festive season with strong demand expectations but also a substantial amount of stock to manage.

The E20 question

The fuel transition is also unfolding amid India’s move towards higher ethanol blending in petrol. FADA says dealers are reporting some consumer hesitation around the E20 transition, petrol containing up to 20% ethanol, with running costs and fuel economy among the concerns cited.

That should not be read as proof that E20 is driving the entire shift. The rise of alternative powertrains has several overlapping explanations: greater model availability, lower running costs, improving EV technology and a wider consumer choice than existed a few years ago. But the timing is notable. Buyers who are uncertain about the long-term economics of petrol vehicles now have more alternatives to choose from.

What the August numbers really show

The headline figure is not that petrol cars have suddenly become unpopular. Petrol remains the largest single fuel category in India’s passenger-vehicle market. The more important change is that there is no longer one dominant alternative to petrol. CNG, hybrids and EVs are each attracting different kinds of buyers and together they have become a larger force than petrol.

The shift is even clearer in other segments. Electric vehicles already dominate three-wheelers and have crossed 10% of two-wheeler retail sales. India’s automobile transition, therefore, is unlikely to follow a simple path from petrol to electric cars. It is becoming a more complicated mix of CNG, hybrid, battery-electric and conventional vehicles, shaped by price, running costs, infrastructure and how each vehicle is used.

August’s numbers offer the clearest sign yet that this transition has moved from being a niche trend to a mainstream consumer choice. For the first time, India’s car buyers collectively chose alternatives to petrol more often than petrol itself.

The Maeslantkering uses two enormous movable steel gates to protect Rotterdam and South Holland from extreme storm surges while keeping the river open to ships.

Imagine a wall of water rising from the sea, threatening to flood low lying towns, farmlands, and entire cities. Now picture two massive steel arms, each as long as the Eiffel Tower, floating out from the riverbanks to join together and hold that water back.

This is not a scene from a movie. It is a real piece of infrastructure spanning the Nieuwe Waterweg river channel near Hoek van Holland in the Netherlands. Known as the Maeslantkering, or the Maeslant Barrier, it is the largest movable flood barrier on Earth. For more than three million people living in South Holland, including the port city of Rotterdam, these steel gates are the main defense against extreme ocean storms.

Maeslantkering: Why the Netherlands’ Giant Flood Barrier Matters

Why the Dutch Built a Gate Instead of a Wall The Netherlands has managed water for centuries, as nearly a third of the country sits below sea level. After a devastating North Sea flood in 1953, the Dutch government built a vast network of dams, dikes, and storm surge barriers across the country, known as the Delta Works.

However, the river route leading to Rotterdam created a practical problem. Rotterdam is home to Europe’s largest and busiest seaport. Blocking the river permanently with a fixed dam was impossible because cargo ships need round the clock access. The initial plan was to build higher earthen dikes along the riverbanks. But as engineers examined future sea level projections, they realized standard dikes would have to be enormous. Building them meant demolishing historic neighborhoods and disrupting communities for decades.

The solution was a different approach altogether: a storm surge barrier that stays open during normal weather to keep shipping lanes clear, but swings shut when severe storms approach.

How the Gates Work

The mechanics of the Maeslantkering are straightforward in design, but huge in scale. The barrier relies on two hollow steel gates parked in dry docks on opposite sides of the river.

When a major storm hits, hydraulic engines push the gates out into the waterway, where they float like barges until they meet in the middle. Once aligned, valves open and the gates fill with river water. As they gain weight, they sink onto a concrete bed built into the river floor.

The operation of the Maeslantkering relies heavily on automation. The entire closure process is directed by a specialized computer system called the Decision Support System, known by its Dutch acronym BOS

As the gates lower, water rushes underneath them at high speed. This natural currents sweep away sand and silt so the structures rest flat against the riverbed without getting stuck on sediment. When the storm passes and ocean levels drop, pumps empty the water from inside the gates. The buoyant structures float back up and swing back into their docks, reopening the river to maritime traffic.

Automated Controls with Human Oversight

The operation of the Maeslantkering relies heavily on automation. The entire closure process is directed by a specialized computer system called the Decision Support System, known by its Dutch acronym BOS.

The software constantly monitors weather forecasts, incoming tides, and river flow rates. If calculations show water levels will rise 3 meters above normal in Rotterdam, the system initiates the closure process automatically. Leaving the trigger to software removes the risk of human delay or miscalculation during a sudden storm emergency.

Even with automation running the system, human engineers remain on site. Whenever severe weather threatens the coast, a technical team monitors the operations from a nearby control room, ready to take manual control if a system fault occurs.

Balancing Ships, Farms, and Rising Tides

Closing the barrier stops all ship traffic into Rotterdam, so shutting the gates is never done without cause. The barrier only closes during major storm events, though engineers run a routine test closure every September to keep the machinery and operational teams prepared.

As sea levels change and seasonal river flows shift, the Maeslantkering remains a critical piece of Dutch water management. It demonstrates how civil engineering can function alongside natural waterways, protecting millions of residents while keeping an essential trade route open to the world.