SIKKIM’S LOST SPRINGS - A Story of Water Scarcity and Survival

September 6, 2025

By Shefali Khan

Sikkim, a Himalayan state rich in rivers, is facing an unprecedented water crisis. South Sikkim, in particular, is reeling under its worst scarcity in years, with this monsoon alone seeing a 35% rainfall deficit. Newsreel Asia’s producer, Shefali Khan, travels to the state to uncover a deepening crisis—one that remains largely invisible in the headlines.

Durga, once a driver who later turned to cattle farming, saw his farm collapse when the water disappeared. But instead of leaving, he decided to step in where the system failed. For the past six years, he has quietly worked as a “barefoot engineer”—unpaid, unrecognized, but indispensable. Every day, Durga treks dangerous slopes to repair pipes, check tanks, and divert water from whatever sources remain. In other places, such work is part of Panchayat systems, backed by wages and safeguards. For Durga, it means carrying all the risks alone. His efforts are invisible—until disaster strikes. Once, a slip on wet rocks during his rounds nearly cost him his life. Durga’s story is not unique; it reflects a larger truth.

Across South Sikkim, many villagers shoulder this hidden labor to keep their communities alive, even as accidents and landslides threaten those who maintain the fragile pipelines. The state has tried to respond. In 2008, Sikkim launched the Dhara Vikas programme to revive natural springs by conserving rainwater and recharging aquifers. While it has seen success in some villages, progress remains patchy and slowed by bureaucratic gaps.

The paradox is striking: nearly 88% of rural households in Sikkim officially have tap water connections under the Jal Jeevan Mission. But when the source itself dries up, a tap is nothing more than a hollow pipe. Pipelines may be laid and targets achieved, but if springs continue to shrink and maintenance falters, the system becomes an empty promise. The real question is: if the springs die, can infrastructure alone save the hills? Or will survival continue to depend on people like Durga—ordinary villagers turned into engineers, water managers, and guardians of a system that was meant to protect them?