Where have the farms in Vasai gone?

Before the British carved up the country in 1947, Vasai's paan used to be the treat of choice across Pakistan and north India. Today, one has to ask for directions to locate a single paanwell in the entire village belt deep inside Vasai. When you finally locate one, the workers speak dejectedly about shrinking markets, near zero profit and manpower costs as deterrents to paanwells and farming activities in the area.
Indeed, across the journey in this rural belt, waste is the only word that sticks out.Waste of land, resources, neglect and acquiescence to various lobbies at work in the area. No one knows this better than Marcus Dabre, the leader of Harit Vasai, an organisation fighting to keep farmlands as they are. But the battle seems lost now. Seated in his office-cum-residence at Chenabori, 9 km from Vasai station, amidst books ranging from five versions of the `Holy Bible' to Charles Dickens' `Our Mutual Friend,' Dabre says, "Vasai is an industrial society and we must accept this. Farming has collapsed in the area and less than 10% people depend on it for their livelihood,'' he says.
Another activist puts things in perspective from the historical viewpoint. Farmers have been here for over 5,000 years. The British, in fact, dubbed Vasai the lungs of Mumbai and passed a no-development order. But immediately after the Emergency, builders saw opportunity in this area. Sheila Dixit's relatives are developing property, Manohar Joshi has bought hundreds of acres in the area and so has the Sahara group. They're all sitting on their land knowing that the area will soon become a gold mine.
The results are evident. Farming has now been confined to mainly the seashore. And many farmers are holding on to land just because they cannot afford to see it go. As seventy nine-year-old Francis Carvalho says, "I have been farming on my three acres of land since I was six. My son is an accountant at a local hospital. The produce has gone down, our markets have shrunk and we are barely sustaining ourselves. But I will not give up my land. My son can do whatever he wants to.''
Perhaps this is why Wilson Machado (57) is not entertaining any thoughts on getting into full-time farming after his retirement next year. The arts teacher possesses close to 35 acres of land in Giriz village that winds its way up a tiny hillock called Hira Dongri from where one can view most of Vasai. He recalls, "I was never into farming. I wanted to be an actor. So I let the farm take its own course. I remember seeing Siberian birds near our farms when I was younger. Now there is only quietness and the drill of buildings being built far away'' he says forlornly. Wonder what Shobhaa De's `Superstar India,' sitting carefully in Dabre's study, would say to that.