[After sending this column, our columnist said, "I hope at least one reader will change his or her habits (after reading this)." We would be happy to hear from you if this column lead you to reflect on your behaviour.]

The recent 28th shodhyatra in Mizoram has been quiet cathartic for me personally. I had been aware of the need to conserve water and proper practices we should follow in our daily life. But I must confess when I washed hands with soap in the morning, the tap used to remain open while scrubbing soap. It is difficult to do so now. I want to share the experience which has made me feel embarrassed about my own behaviour and has moved me from just a feeling of guilt to an ability to correct myself.

While walking in Mizoram from Sailam to Melriat about two weeks ago, we came across an extraordinary spirit of water conservation.  Every single house in smaller villages had a rooftop water conservation mechanism. The streets were extremely clean. There were dustbins every 50 or 100 yards. Even in the evening, one could not see any sign of trash on the roads. The drains were clean too. There were urinals for men and women at every turn or corner. When did I see urinals in villages last? In my own village in UP, we don’t have these. Having walked thousands of kilometres in the last decade and half, I have not seen such a collective discipline in smaller villages; big villages and towns were not very different though they were not as bad either. But while absorbing all this cleanliness and conservation spirit, we came across an interesting sight.

There was tap from which a few drops were dripping. In most places, this will be quite common and one could easily see a water pool below or around the water point. Here was an inspiring sight. There was small channel, made of a metal sheet, put below the tap draining water in a canister storing those few drops. There was no water wastage around at all. Shodhyatris were dumbstruck buy the sight. Could a culture be so frugal and miserly in using water, they asked.
 
In the next village, I wanted a cup of water in the morning to take my herbal medicine. I went to the tap where there was already a bucket being field by kitchen volunteers. When they saw me, they closed the tap, pulled the bucket away. One of them took the cup from my hand, opened the tap, filled it, closed the tap and gave back the cup to me. Then he moved the bucket under the tap and opened the tap to fill the remaining bucket.

What would have I done? Probably I would have pulled the bucket away, filed the cup, and moved the bucket back. In this process, if some water would have flown waste, I might have ignored it. I can’t do it anymore.

I am if course very conscious about the fact that water wastage is very rampant in our society. What is more agonising is that even some of us who are aware, conscious and feel responsible have habits which are not benchmarked with the most exalted values and cultures. Can something be done about it? I don’t know.

I will share a Zen story which I have mentioned many times before, once again. A teacher asked a disciple 2,000 years ago to bring a glass of water. The disciple brought the water, teacher took it and gave the empty glass to him to keep it back in the kitchen. After he came back from the kitchen, teacher asked him, what did he do? The disciple traced all the steps he had followed, beginning with the call from the teacher for a glass of water, his going to kitchen to bring the glass, and then going back to keep empty the glass. Teacher asked him once again. The disciple repeated the sequence. The teacher was not happy. He asked a bit furiously once again to retrace the steps. This time a bell rang. The disciple recalled that while going back to the kitchen, he had thrown away just a few drop of water still in the glass. The moment he said, “just....a drop of water...”, he is said to have attained enlightenment.

Why did the Budhha have to invent this story at a time when there was no shortage of water, and there was no likelihood of such a shortage to arise for the next 1,500 or 2,000 years? Why do good teachers think in such long terms? Why has not this story become part of our collective societal DNA?

HOW DID MIZORAM DO IT? After 1971, when the insurgency ended and the incumbent chief minister vacated the seat for the leader of MNF, most of the villages were moved to the roadside and at higher altitude along the mountains. Just in about 30-40 years, from a situation of abundant water in valleys, they had moved to a situation of scarcity. This culture was so ingrained among children and adults alike that nobody had to be told about this value. There were no slogans on the walls, no hoardings at all, no warning of punishment. Complete virtual silence.
 
Could we make Mizoram the water harvesting capital of India? Could people from Tamil Nadu, Gujarat, Rajasthan and other places visit these villages and get inspired? Will the leaders and adults listen or should children just break from the tradition of indifference towards these values? Will water resource ministry organize the national consultation on water conservation and sanitation say in Sailam or champai? Why not? Why should not we have national centre of excellence in places which have achieved distinction in that domain, rather than having all headquarters in Delhi or Mumbai or Kolkata?

India is young and young people don’t like to be sermonised. Slogans would not help conserve water. But walking small steps, practising a few things daily, and auditing one’s own behaviour will make us more responsive to inner call. Once the call for conservation and hygiene emanates from within, perhaps change will follow inevitably. But the inner call will call for authentic appeal. Mizos can help us.