The roots he yanks out of his field are the final blow: "You can see the crops are gone, we needed the rain earlier."
In Hardoi, drought has already set in, upsetting the fragile balance of existence. No one is spared.
In Lalpur village, Kamla Bai falls at my feet, sobbing, "Please help us". She is a widow with nine children to feed. The tiny one bigha land she owns has never really been enough to survive on. Now even that minimum subsistence has been wooed out.
Kamla takes us to the homes of two other women, also widows, also owners of small plots of land.
Too much rain last year destroyed many homes in this region. This year, the lack of rain at the right time means more devastation.
Savitri has watched five children die. Poverty and disease took them, she says, leaving her with three children: "These three are lucky to have survived but now they cry out of hunger. I ask them to wait as there's enough for only the evening meal". Her family owns no land but work on the fields of the bigger farmers. That work doesn't exist...Nor are there any schemes like NREGA here.
And then , at the extreme end of the chain of vulnerability, there's Jogan. She has no family, no children, she depends on others in her village to feed her. But with every kitchen now empty, she risks being forgotten.
Hers is perhaps the hardest story to swallow.
