Every alternate day through Punjab’s unforgiving summers, a tractor-tanker climbs into the dry folds of the Shivalik hills carrying water.
Long before sunrise burns the earth a pale brown, Harpal Singh Pali begins his route across a five-km stretch of forest near Kanpur Khuhi village in Ropar district. By the time the heat settles over the hills, wild boars, sambar deer, blue bulls, and peacocks have already begun gathering near shallow pits and concrete troughs carved into the landscape.
They know the sound of his tractor.
For the last 15 years, Pali, now known locally as Ropar’s ‘Water Man’, has made it his mission to keep wildlife alive during the harshest months of the year.
By keeping water inside Punjab’s drying Shivalik forests, Harpal Singh Pali is not only helping wildlife survive the summer, but also protecting the vegetation that holds the fragile ecosystem together. Photograph: (The Tribune)
Using his personal tractor-tanker and his own savings, he fills 25 water holes and several rainwater harvesting ponds spread through the forest.
A forest waiting for water
The Shivalik belt of Punjab changes dramatically after March.
Seasonal water sources begin shrinking. Patches of forest dry out. Animals move closer to villages searching for water, often triggering dangerous encounters with people.
Pali saw this happen year after year. “Wild boars, sambar deer, blue bulls, and peacocks all gather near the water holes, sometimes waiting for me to arrive,” he said.
Fifteen of the water holes he built are reinforced with concrete so they can withstand repeated refilling and survive the intense summer conditions.
During peak heat, he travels through the forest nearly every other day, hauling water himself.
Harpal Singh Pali arrives with a tanker full of water for refilling water holes so deer, peacocks, blue bulls, and wild boars do not have to wander into villages searching for water. Photograph: (Facebook/Arun Bhargava)
The work is physically demanding and increasingly expensive.
Fuel prices have risen. Maintaining the tanker costs money. But Pali has continued without government funding, donations, or sponsorships.
“I have never accepted a single rupee,” he shared. “I fund it from my own pocket.”
He also explained why. “I believe the blessings of wild animals have helped my livelihood prosper. That is why I dedicate 10 percent of my income to wildlife welfare.”
A childhood memory that never left
The idea began decades ago with a journey he made as a six-year-old child beside his mother.
He remembers walking with her to a small water hole near their village, carrying earthen pots. As they poured water into the pit, peacocks gathered nearby.
Those scenes stayed with him. “When I was young, I decided I would continue her work in a bigger way when I grew up.”
Years later, that promise turned into a network of water points running through the forest. Now, his route through the Shivaliks is almost ritualistic.
In many ways, his work is still largely invisible outside the villages around Ropar. But its impact reaches deep into the ecosystem around him.
Keeping animals safe inside the forest
Officials are of the view that the effort is doing more than helping thirsty animals.
Ropar Divisional Forest Officer Kanwardeep Singh said much of the Shivalik region falls under the Punjab Land Preservation Act because the terrain is vulnerable to severe soil erosion.
According to him, the water retention created by Pali’s ponds and water holes is helping preserve vegetation in the area while supporting wildlife through the summer months.
“Any community contribution towards preserving wildlife and forests is welcome,” Singh said.
The water sources also reduce the chances of animals wandering into nearby settlements searching for drinking water.
Over the years, Pali has rescued injured wild animals hurt in poaching attempts or attacked by stray dogs. Photograph: (The Tribune)
In regions bordering forests, such movement often escalates into conflict, like crop damage, panic among villagers, or injury to animals.
By keeping water available deeper inside the forest, Pali’s work creates a fragile but important balance between people and wildlife.
A bond that goes beyond water
Over the years, Pali has rescued injured wild animals hurt in poaching attempts or attacked by stray dogs. One rescued sambar deer, he says, still returns to visit his home.
“That sambar comes to our house regularly,” he said. “It feels like part of the family.”
But in the Shivalik hills, where heat strips the land down to dust and silence, the arrival of Pali’s tanker means survival. And for hundreds of animals waiting in the shade for water to arrive, he is no less than a season they can depend on.
