PHOTO ESSAY
Following Women Foragers into the Sal Forests of Madhya Pradesh
For a fleeting window each monsoon, women from the Baiga community venture into the sal forests in the central Indian landscape to gather wild harvest, especially putpura—edible wild mushrooms—that appear for just 15 to 20 days once the rains begin. Kiran Admache and Nidhi K. follow along on a wet July morning, learning about monsoon-foraging rituals as they walk.
Kiran Admache and Nidhi K.
14 October 2026
Women from the Baiga community set out in the morning to collect putpura and lal pihari, types of wild edible mushrooms that grow during the monsoons in Madhya Pradesh.
It was an almost two-hour-long drive from the town of Mandla to Sagaunchapar, a small collection of hamlets in Mawai tehsil, which forms the border between Madhya Pradesh and Chhattisgarh.
In Sagaunchapar, homes belonging to the Baiga community sit scattered at the boundaries of the sal (Shorea robusta) forest.
We had never gone foraging for mushrooms before: we didn’t know what to look for, nor did we know how to identify the edible varieties. But the women we met knew the forest intimately, and could not only recognise the flora and fauna around us, but also spot the mushrooms immediately.
Grass plains interspersed with sal forests largely comprise the southern portion of Mandla district. The deciduous sal trees, growing as tall as 50 metres sometimes, are considered important ecologically (keystone species that support herbivores like deer), communally (sacred to the Baiga community), and economically (providing non-timber forest produce in the form of leaves, seed oils, and resin).
Baiga houses on pathars or small hillocks. Families farm in the vicinity, growing crops like kodo, kutki, and now rice.
Historically, the Baigas have practised a form of shifting cultivation called Bewar—here, a patch of forest land, usually on a steep slope, was cleared and burned in the month of May, and the resulting ash spread across the land. The community would then practise mixed cultivation, growing a variety of crops like millets, corn, sweet potato, and legumes native to the region over the fertile ash. After three crop cycles, the land would be left to replenish and the growers would move on to another patch of forest land. While Bewar was carried out freely, 1860 saw a prohibition on the practice, with the British imposing a ban and making it illegal in 1929. It continues to remain illegal post-Independence, with a large majority of the Baigas in Mandla moving to plough cultivation.
In the monsoon, as the forest turns dense and green, edible mushrooms like putpura (Mycenastrum corium) and lal pihari (Russula sp.) sprout from the forest floor. Wild mushrooms are a delicacy in central India. When families have enough for consumption, they bring the remaining surplus mushrooms to the nearest towns and cities to sell them. Putpura is sold for as high as rupees 750-1,000 per kilogram in Mandla city, about 90 kilometres away from Mawai block—the larger the town the better the prices.
Apart from the edible fungi, women forage for bamboo shoots, wild greens like charota, roots like tubers, leaves of the tendu (Coromandel ebony) tree, awla (gooseberry) fruit, and nuts like chironji (Cuddapah almond).
The women walk together into the periphery of the forest, foraging in groups of at least two or three, but often in larger groups for safety and company.
The entire process of collecting putpura takes about two hours, usually beginning around 9 am. The sound of the women walking and talking, they say, discourages wild animals from approaching them. Wild boars, for instance, who are most likely to be in the vicinity, can be dangerous.
“Only after a few days of continuous rain do you find the first putpura sitting under the sal trees,” says Droupati bai, while keeping a keen eye on the foot of sal trees in her path.
An empty cleaning stall with vendors (in the background) arriving with the first set of thoni (shore seine) fish.
The forest is dominated by sal trees, growing alongside sagwan (teak), dhawa (axlewood), tendu (Coromandel ebony), bija (Indian kino), saja (crocodile bark tree), mahua (Indian butter tree), haldu (yellow teak), awla (gooseberry), and khair (catechu).
Mandla is one of the most forest-rich districts in India. However, exploitation of forest resources is causing increased degradation. Illegal felling of trees for timber, over-grazing, forest fires, a rise in invasive species (including the common lantana, cocklebur, and sickle senna), and large-scale pest infestations (like the recent sal borer outbreak) all contribute to the damage. The climate crisis exacerbates several of these challenges, with research documenting that about 45 percent of forested grids in India are projected to undergo change, and assessments suggesting a higher concentration of vulnerable grids in the upper Himalayas and parts of central India.
(Left) Manpiyaro Bai. (Right) In the foreground is Saniya Bai, and Ramali Bai is in the background.
(Left) Rami Bai. (Right) Prembati. While they do have last names, most women introduce or identify themselves using their first names, with ‘bai’ attached to it. Men, meanwhile, will often use their last names.
Sal forests across Mandla typically grow in low-fertility, red, gravel-like soil (called murram), a reason the Baiga's livelihood leans so heavily on the sale of non-timber forest produce and foraging, rather than farming.
The women huddle together under one umbrella, while looking out for each other.
Leela peeling and de-veining shrimp.
Putpura is round and dull brown, so carefully camouflaged just under the surface of the wet soil that it is barely distinguishable from the land around it. Dug out by hand, it has a hard outer shell, but soft flesh underneath. In one morning, a woman can forage up to two kilograms of the putpura. Once gathered, they are tucked into sarees or stored in bags. Because this is the first yield of wild mushrooms harvested in the year, it is enjoyed across villages and cities in the region.
Lal pihari are umbrella-shaped mushrooms found in sal forests, harvested between the months of July and September.
Lal pihari mushrooms are pale red or pink on the top, with white undersides.
The forest is rich in biodiversity. (Left) A scorpion making its way on the wet, rocky forest floor, and (right) a millipede on a mossy tree bark.
(Left) A sprouting saja seed. (Right) A growing sal tree. Murram soil, seen here, is very stony. Trees like saja and sal are considered sacred by the Baiga community, and are worshipped during auspicious occasions by leaving offerings of coconuts or mahua-rich alcohol under them.
Returning from the morning’s foraging trip, around 11 am.
A patch of paddy plantation, seen as one walks back from the forest. The paddy harvested from such a patch is usually enough for families for their own consumption.
Baiga homes are traditionally made with locally available materials, but today cement and brick houses are increasingly being built. Timber from the forest—often from the sal tree—is used for fencing houses and animal pens, where buffaloes, cows, and goats are reared. Red tiles (or kavelu) used on the roof, and mud walls ensure houses remain naturally cool.
Young taro leaves (seen on the left) are pulled out carefully by the roots and brought back to plant near homes. After a few months, the plant will be harvested for the tuber root, locally known as ‘kanda’.
On the plate this July morning, placed in Ramali bai’s yard, is her collection of putpura and lal sarai. “The whole village enjoys it, and it tastes like chicken because of its richness and chewy texture,” Ramali Bai says.
Note: Putpura is a hyperlocal, highly seasonal food for communities living in central India. Please source it responsibly and in ways that do not compromise local access to or place undue pressure on the landscapes from where it is gathered.
Nidhi K is the Woman Farmer Project Writer-Researcher fellow from Madhya Pradesh. She is an independent journalist from Mumbai who writes on travel, food, policy, public health, and the environment. A data nerd, she loves scouring databases to bring stories to the fore.
Kiran Admache is the Woman Farmer Project Audio-Visual fellow from Madhya Pradesh. She is a Gond Adivasi filmmaker and engineer holding a Bachelor’s degree in Electrical and Electronics Engineering and is an alumna of the Green Hub Central India Fellowship where she learned documentary filmmaking.
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Additional Inputs
This story was produced in partnership with Network for Conserving Central India (NCCI). Read more about their work here.
This story is part of the Woman Farmer Project, a multimedia storytelling initiative led by The Locavore in partnership with the Doc Society Climate Story Kitchen. It aims to build a roadmap for successful collaborations between institutions and innovative grassroots networks who are committed to amplifying climate stories.
The Doc Society supports climate action across the globe by championing independent filmmakers, audio producers, journalists, and artists working alongside impact producers and movement builders to bring more communities into climate conversations to advance climate just and biodiverse futures.