Dangwada, Madhya Pradesh — The morning sun casts a golden hue over the fields of wheat and pulses in Dangwada, a small village in Dewas district of Madhya Pradesh. Roosters crow, women in bright sarees fetch water from handpumps, and the smell of cow dung cakes used for fuel wafts through the air. Life begins early here, and so does the struggle.
Located roughly 25 kilometers from Dewas city, Dangwada sits just off the Indore-Dewas bypass — close enough to the city to feel its vibrations, yet far enough to remain rooted in its agrarian identity. The village, home to around 3,000 people, is a quiet capsule of rural India, where tradition walks hand-in-hand with modern challenges.
Geography and Livelihoods
Dangwada lies in the Malwa region, known for its black cotton soil and semi-arid climate. The landscape undulates between cultivated fields and scattered neem and babool trees. Agriculture remains the primary occupation here, with wheat, soybean, and gram being the staple crops.
“We depend entirely on farming,” says 52-year-old Ramprasad Bhilala, a farmer with three acres of land. “But rainfall has become unpredictable, and the cost of inputs like fertilizer and diesel has gone up. Profits are shrinking every year.”
Smallholder farming dominates Dangwada’s economy, and landholdings are fragmented due to generations of division among families. Irrigation remains largely dependent on borewells, as there is no canal connectivity. While the Dewas district receives moderate rainfall, years of groundwater extraction have led to declining water tables.
Culture and Social Fabric
The social structure of Dangwada mirrors that of many other villages in the region. Bhilala and Patidar communities form the majority, followed by Scheduled Castes and a few Muslim families. The caste system continues to shape social interactions, though its overt forms have softened.
Festivals like Holi, Diwali, and Navratri are celebrated with communal participation. Local deities such as Bhairav Baba and village-specific jatras (pilgrimages) are deeply embedded in the cultural consciousness. “Our children may go to cities, but they return during these festivals. It keeps our roots alive,” says Kiranbai, a septuagenarian known for her folk songs.
Women in Dangwada play a critical yet often unrecognized role. From tending livestock to transplanting saplings, their labor powers much of the village economy. But decision-making remains a male-dominated sphere. “We work from dawn to dusk,” says Sushila Bai, “but no one asks us what we think about the panchayat or what to grow in the fields.”
Education and Migration
Dangwada has one government primary school and a middle school. For high school, students travel to nearby Hatpipliya, which is nearly 10 kilometers away. This journey often becomes a deterrent, especially for girls.
“There is no transportation,” says Sunita, a class 9 student. “We walk or cycle in groups, but many girls drop out after 8th standard because their parents are scared or find it difficult to manage.”
As a result, Dangwada sees a steady outflow of its youth. Many young men migrate seasonally to Indore, Dewas, or even Gujarat for construction work or jobs in factories. This seasonal migration provides some monetary relief but comes at the cost of broken education and frayed family ties.
Health and Sanitation
Health infrastructure is scant. The village has a sub-health center, but no resident doctor. For serious illnesses or maternity cases, people travel to Dewas or Hatpipliya.
“We rely on local dais (traditional birth attendants) or quacks for immediate help,” says Ramesh, a community health worker. “The ASHA workers do their best, but there are not enough resources. Ambulances come late, if at all.”
Open defecation, despite the Swachh Bharat Abhiyan’s efforts, still persists on the village outskirts. Toilets built under the scheme often remain unused due to water scarcity or poor construction quality. “Some toilets are just structures with no soak pit or water connection,” says a sarpanch member under condition of anonymity.
Governance and Development
Dangwada falls under the Gram Panchayat jurisdiction and receives funds through various schemes like MNREGA (Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act), PMAY (housing), and NRLM (livelihoods for women’s self-help groups). Yet, the trickle of benefits often gets stuck in bureaucratic red tape.
“In MNREGA, wages are delayed by weeks. And many villagers are not aware of their job card rights,” says Raghunath, a social activist who works with a local NGO. “Development funds come, but where they go is a question no one answers.”
The village sarpanch, Rekha Bai, speaks of ongoing efforts. “We have constructed some cement roads, put up solar lights in two hamlets, and are trying to get a water tank installed. But funds are limited and we need cooperation from higher offices.”
Indeed, there are signs of change. A solar-powered water pump now draws water from a community borewell. Some households have LPG connections under Ujjwala Yojana. A few families own smartphones, using WhatsApp and YouTube to stay updated. But these signs are scattered — patches of modernity on a canvas still largely painted by struggle.
Challenges Ahead
One of the most pressing issues in Dangwada is water. With rainfall growing erratic and groundwater depleting, the future of farming hangs in the balance. Rainwater harvesting remains an underutilized idea here, and no watershed management project has reached the village.
Unemployment, especially among youth, is another concern. “We need skill centers, not just farm tools,” says 24-year-old Manish, who recently returned after working in a textile factory in Surat. “I want to stay in the village, but what do I do here?”
Climate change is also rearing its head. Unseasonal rains, hailstorms, and increasing heatwaves are hurting crops and livestock. Insurance schemes like PM Fasal Bima Yojana exist on paper, but awareness and claim processing remain abysmally poor.
The Path Forward
Despite these challenges, Dangwada is not without resilience. Women’s self-help groups have started producing pickles and papads for local markets. A youth club occasionally organizes computer literacy sessions with borrowed laptops. The seeds of self-reliance are there — waiting to sprout with the right nourishment.
Experts say targeted interventions can make a difference. “What Dangwada needs is decentralized planning — combining traditional wisdom with modern techniques,” says Dr. Meena Sharma, a development economist based in Bhopal. “If we involve local youth and women in decision-making, results will be more lasting.”
As the sun dips behind the tamarind trees and evening prayers begin, Dangwada seems to stand at a crossroad — between what it has always been and what it aspires to become. Change is coming, but slowly, like the bullock cart still used to ferry produce to the haat (market) every Friday.
In a country rushing toward urbanization and digitization, Dangwada’s story is a reminder: rural India is not a monolith but a mosaic — layered, complex, and deeply human. Its challenges are real, but so is its spirit.
