How One Farmer Revived 300 Rice Varieties & Sparked a Seed-Saving Movement in Uttarakhand

Tucked in the Garhwal Himalayas, Jardhargaon feels like a place where time slows down. Terraced fields spill over the hills, catching the morning light, each patch of earth holding stories of families who have farmed it for generations. In the late 1980s, Vijay Jardhari, a farmer with a gentle voice and hands rough from the soil, stood in his field and felt a tug at his heart. The crops he knew as a boy — finger millet waving like old friends, black soybeans plump under the sun, amaranth leaves bold as a painter’s brush — were vanishing. New hybrid seeds had taken over, promising plenty but leaving the land parched and the farmers empty-handed.

Vijay saw more than crops fading. He saw his mother’s old tin box, heavy with seeds and memories, gathering dust. He saw his neighbours’ worried faces, their savings spent on seeds they couldn’t keep. This is the story of how Vijay and his village fought to save their seeds and their way of life, sparking the Beej Bachao Andolan — a movement that’s now a beacon of hope across India. It’s a story for anyone who has ever wanted to hold on to something that matters.

When the fields lost their song

In the 1980s, Jardhargaon’s fields started to change, and not for the better. Vijay noticed hybrid seeds creeping in, pushed by markets and government schemes that promised bigger harvests. But these seeds came with a heavy price, and the village was paying it.

The trouble with hybrids

• Draining the land: These seeds needed more water than the mountain streams could give, plus fertilisers and pesticides that hurt the soil.
• Stealing independence: Unlike the old seeds, hybrids couldn’t be saved for replanting, forcing farmers to buy new ones every year.
• Breaking the bank: The cost piled up, pushing families into debt and making farming feel like a trap.

Vijay couldn’t let go of the memories — his family’s table laden with homegrown rice and dal, the fields alive with colour. Those old crops didn’t ask for much, just a bit of care, and they gave back food, fodder, and hope. Seeing his village struggle, he decided to act.

Finding seeds, finding home

Vijay didn’t have a grand plan or a megaphone. He just started walking, knocking on doors, and sitting with the women who knew seeds like the back of their hands. His humble resolve soon grew into a shared mission.

Listening to the elders

• Kitchen treasures: Vijay talked to mothers and grandmothers, finding old rice, millets, and pulses tucked in tin boxes and cloth sacks — seeds nobody had planted in years.
• Reviving the past: With a few farmer friends, he planted these seeds, tending them like they were family, watching them sprout in the Himalayan soil.

Bringing back Barahnaja

• Farming like before: They revived Barahnaja, an old way of growing 12 or more crops together — horsegram, cucumbers, amaranth, all helping each other thrive.
• Trusting the land:No chemicals needed, just the earth doing what it knew, keeping the soil rich and the harvests steady.

As the fields began to flourish, Vijay and his friends gave their efforts a name.

Starting a movement

• A simple name: They called it the ‘Beej Bachao Andolan’, or ‘Save the Seeds Movement’, born from love for their land, with no money or big groups behind it.
• Growing hope: As the fields bloomed, so did the village’s spirit, proving their seeds were worth saving.

More than seeds, it’s family

Yes, the Beej Bachao Andolan was about crops. But it was also about bringing people back to their roots. Through their work, Vijay and his community rebuilt a way of life that felt true.

Saying no to dependence

• Breaking free: In the 1980s and 90s, the Green Revolution’s new seeds and chemicals promised wealth but often left small farmers in debt. Beej Bachao chose seeds that didn’t tie them to shops.
• Saving their own: They revived over 300 rice varieties, 200 kinds of rajma, and countless grains, greens, and oilseeds — tough crops that grew with little water or care.

Building a stronger village

• Women leading the way: Women ran seed banks and festivals, their laughter mixing with the clink of grains, sharing stories and seeds like gifts.
• Trading like kin: Farmers swapped seeds over tea, their hands passing trust as much as crops, making Jardhargaon feel like one big family.
• More than food: A seed carries with it culture and freedom. In every grain lies a community’s history, pride, and the right to farm in their own way.

The success in Jardhargaon soon caught the attention of others.

A hope that spreads like seeds

Jardhargaon’s story didn’t stay in the hills. It grew wings, reaching farmers far beyond Uttarakhand, showing them a way to thrive.

Helping today’s struggles

• Facing tough times: With climate change drying streams and tiring soil, these old seeds — needing little water or chemicals — are like a gift for farmers everywhere.
• Proving it works: Without big funding, Jardhargaon’s farmers showed traditional farming can feed families and keep the land happy.

Inspiring others

• Ripples across India: From Rajasthan’s deserts to Tamil Nadu’s plains, Odisha’s hills to the Northeast’s valleys, farmers are growing millets, old grains, and local crops.
• Festivals and banks: Seed festivals buzz with music and chatter, while seed banks keep traditions growing, not locked away but alive in the earth.

Staying true to home

• Rooted in the village: Beej Bachao is still about real people in places like Jardhargaon, planting seeds with love and stubborn hope for tomorrow.

You’re part of this story

Think about your dinner last night — the rice, the dal, maybe some greens. Behind it all is a farmer, a seed, a story. The Beej Bachao Andolan is about those seeds and the people who fight for them. Whether you’re in a city apartment or a village home, you’re connected to this. Pop by a farmers’ market, try cooking with millets, or share a meal and talk about where it came from. Those small choices keep Jardhargaon’s spirit alive.

In a world that sometimes forgets its roots, Vijay and his village remind us what’s worth holding on to. They show us that one seed, planted with heart, can grow into a movement. And that’s a story we can all help carry forward — in what we eat, what we choose, and what we pass on.

Edited by Khushi Arora