When Fields Turn to Runways: Balbir Singh’s Story and the Larger Struggle of Indian Farmers (True Life Stories)

It was an ordinary day at Air Force Station Agra, the kind of day where the sky hummed with aircraft and the desk overflowed with files. Amid that usual bustle, I received a call from my Chief Administration Officer. His tone was slightly hesitant.

“Sir, there’s an elderly man at the security gate asking to meet you. He has been coming here several times before, but the guards said he talks about an old land issue. Should we let him in?”

I paused, looked at the clock, and said, “Let him in, provided he’s not a security concern.”

Minutes later, a frail voice reached me over the telephone, trembling yet dignified:“Sir, main aapka sevak Balbir Singh hoon… I am 92 years old. Please allow my rickshaw to come through. I have no strength to walk.”

And so entered Balbir Singh. A tall, lanky figure, once strong, now leaning heavily on support — but dressed with the pride of a farmer: a crisp khadi kurta, neatly combed hair, moustache and the eyes that carried both dignity and despair.

Shri Balbir Singh

As he sat across from me, he carefully unfolded an old pension book and a medal awarded to his father, a soldier in the British Indian Army who had fought in the Great War. The pride in his voice was unmistakable: “This was my father’s honour.” He proudly pulled out the ‘Victoria Cross’ awarded to his father for his service.   For me, as a soldier, it was profoundly humbling to holds such coveted medal.

The Victoria Cross Awarded to Balbir's Father

But then came the story that weighed heavily on his wrinkled shoulders.

The Land that Turned to Dust for His Family

Balbir’s family once owned fertile agricultural land in Agra’s Malpura area. Fields that fed them, sustained generations, and gave them their identity as proud landowners. But history took another turn when the Government acquired their land for the expansion of the Air Force Station.

In return, the family received a meagre compensation — a sum that evaporated with time — and a promissory note from the government: that one family member would get a job.

But fate had other plans. Back then, Balbir was already past the eligible age. The children were too young. The promise turned into just another piece of forgotten paper.

For years, the family tried to survive. His son joined the Indian Army, but the cruel summer of 1999 took him away in Kargil. Left behind were two minor daughters and a widowed daughter-in-law who herself succumbed to illness. The responsibility shifted again — on shoulders already tired from life’s endless battles.

From being food growers, Balbir’s family slowly turned into food buyers. He sighed, his eyes moist:“The most painful part, Saab, is when a farmer, once the owner of wheat fields, has to walk into a shop and buy a single kilogram of atta.”

That line struck me like a punch to the chest.

The Temporary Relief and the Larger Question

At the time, luckily, a vacancy had opened for a clerk in a contractor-run local office. I offered Balbir’s family that temporary respite, though government job appointments weren’t under my authority.

But I knew I had only placed a band-aid on an open wound.

Later, in another posting, I met my gardener Sanjay Yadav. His story was eerily similar. His family’s land had been taken decades ago. They were illiterate back then, unaware of their rights, and ended up with no compensation. Today, he works tirelessly as a daily-wage worker to give his children a chance at education. What after him? He does not know — except to place his faith in God.

And I realized — Balbir and Sanjay are not isolated stories. Across India, hundreds of farming families live in the shadow of displacement, dispossession, and despair.

The Larger Problem of Land Acquisition in India

Infrastructure needs land. Airports, roads, defence bases, factories — all vital for a developing nation. But when land is acquired, it is often the farming families who pay the steepest price.

For many, compensation is either inadequate, delayed, or spent quickly without a sustainable alternative. Promises of jobs often evaporate in bureaucratic loopholes. With little education or awareness of legal rights, farmers struggle to navigate the system.

The result? Families who were once self-reliant landowners are pushed into cycles of poverty, wage labour, migration, and social insecurity.

What Can Be Done: Recommendations for a Humane Policy

The stories of Balbir Singh and Sanjay Yadav point us toward urgent reforms. Here’s what can make a difference:

✅ 1. Livelihood-Based Compensation, Not Just Cash Pay-outs

Cash gets spent. But what farmers truly need is sustainable livelihood support. Compensation should include a mix of land-for-land (where possible), monthly pensions for elderly displaced farmers, and vocational training for younger members.

✅ 2. Guaranteed Employment Opportunities

If jobs are promised, they must be delivered with clearly defined eligibility, not left to chance based on age or circumstance. Instead of one job per family, a policy ensuring employment for at least two members per affected household — through government, PSU, or skill-linked industrial schemes — would create security.

✅ 3. Transparent Consultation & Fair Hearings

Before land is acquired, families should be consulted honestly about their rights, rehabilitation, and choices. Local legal aid cells should be established to guide illiterate or less aware farmers.

✅ 4. Community Development Packages

Instead of looking at farmers in isolation, government agencies should invest in developing entire affected villages — schools, healthcare, and alternative income opportunities like dairy, handloom, or micro-enterprises.

✅ 5. Monitoring & Redressal Mechanisms

An independent grievance body for rehabilitation cases can ensure that old promises, like Balbir Singh’s, do not get lost in dusty files. I am sure, after reading this story, some assistance will fall in from him. Awareness on media and social media platforms can certainly help.

Closing Thoughts

When Balbir Singh gripped my hand with trembling fingers, his words echoed long after he left:“Sir, I am 92… Who will look after my granddaughters after I am gone?”

This is not just one old man’s plea. It is the unspoken cry of countless farming families across India whose lives changed the moment their land was taken — without a future being given in return.

India must grow, yes. Air bases, highways, and industries will keep rising. But a nation cannot call itself truly developed if progress leaves behind the very farmers who have always fed its people.

It’s time to turn every story like Balbir Singh’s into a commitment: that no farmer’s family should ever be forced from self-reliance into hunger, from dignity into despair.

My call is for help from all quarters.

"Ummeed par duniya kayam hai”

Jai Hind

Air Cmde SK Verma VSM (Retd)