1st, Untarnished Stretch of Yamuna

On a crisp March morning, a young man in his early 20s walks slowly across a vast field, a wicker basket dangling from his forearm.

- Paras Singh and Jasjeev Gandhiok

NEW DELHI: Every few steps, he bends down to pluck bright red strawberries, their glossy skins glistening under the morning sun. Behind him, an even larger expanse of flower fields, dappled in vivid hues of yellow, orange and white, stretches to the horizon.

Beyond the blossoms, the land drops off at the riverbank, or ghat, where a quiet river carves its way through the landscape. Its water is clear and blue—a striking contrast to the inky, polluted stream most Delhi residents associate with the Yamuna. It is an image that could belong to a pastoral Himalayan valley or a quiet European farmstead. But this scene, lush and brimming with life, unfolds in the northernmost corner of Delhi.

This is Palla.

Nestled at the tri-junction of Delhi, Haryana, and Uttar Pradesh, the village marks the Yamuna's entry into Delhi, a mere 21km upstream from Signature Bridge. Here, the river remains untarnished, its waters still supporting agriculture, aquatic life, and an entire community that depends on its purity. The floodplains—rich in alluvial soil—are home to sprawling farms cultivating everything from organic strawberries to muskmelons, cucumbers, and a variety of gourds. Spring brings a riot of marigolds and other vibrant flowers, filling the air with a heady fragrance.

Unlike the lifeless water that snakes through Delhi's heart, this stretch of the Yamuna is an anomaly—no ammoniacal stench, no toxic froth, no dead fish floating belly-up in the current. Instead, farmers wade into its waters, worshippers gather at the banks, and birds—both local and migratory—flock to its edges. But tranquil Palla has repeatedly found itself at the centre of a political and environmental struggle—its waters have been scrutinised, contested, and at times, weaponised in battles over Delhi's water supply.