As we celebrate the 55th Earth Day on April 22, 2025, it might be a good idea to stop and reflect back: What exactly are we celebrating, whose knowledge do we build on, and who gets to lead the way forward? While policy-makers debate energy transitions and climate finance in global forums and practitioners navigate the buzz around green energy and carbon offset, real climate resilience is unfolding elsewhere. In Bastar, Chhattisgarh, indigenous communities quietly continue to protect ecosystems by regulating consumption through time-tested traditions, collective knowledge and local governance. Earth is not a resource to be conserved here, rather a companion to live with.

One such epitome of indigenous wisdom and resilience lies in a centuries-old institution here, known as the ghotul – a socio-educational, cultural and ecological institution where unmarried adolescents (both boys and girls) live, learn and participate in collective life. It is a democratic, decentralised system of governance and knowledge transfer – a potent symbol of community-led climate adaptation. In the face of accelerating ecological crises, the ghotul offers a model of how learning, living and leading can emerge from the grassroots. Such models exist as real-time knowledge creators.

Across India’s vast diversity, communities have always held cultural values and traditions to integrate the environment in their lives – localised practices of circular economies, sustainable agriculture and resource conservation. Bastar offers a compelling adaptation narrative. Mud homes are built for thermal comfort, reducing energy dependence. Water bodies are regulated for consumption and maintenance. Agriculture is adapted to forest ecosystems, with traditional canals (nalas) carrying runoff, and preserved indigenous seeds that thrive without external inputs. Women play key roles in preserving non-timber forest produces like mahua and char, which are embedded in seasonal rituals and communal norms.

These practices and systems stem from observation, oral tradition and trial-and-error honed over generations. However, much of this wisdom has either been lost in translation or faces the brunt of ‘development’ and top-down governance. Bastar is not alone. There are many such climate adaptation oases that exist across the country. Despite their resilience, these communities remain on the margins of policy, funding and climate planning. Their wisdom is treated as anecdotal rather than systemic.

What is unique about these oases is that they have survived, adapted and remained relevant even after centuries of existence. How? Through institutions such as the ghotul. Though diminished in form, ghotuls remain powerful archives of climate resilience and wisdom. Self-governed by youth, the knowledge and collective responsibility are transferred through songs, stories, and performances. Elders rarely interfere, encouraging youth to take responsibility and make collective decisions. These act as informal schools where youth learn social norms and customs, ecological knowledge, oral traditions, community service and conflict resolution. In times of uncertainty – drought, erratic rainfall or pest outbreaks – it is this embodied knowledge that communities fall back on.

A ghotul. Photo: Harshita Umrao

Because climate change is not only a technical crisis; it is social, cultural and deeply local. Its uneven impacts entwined with identity demands decentralisation, strong social bonds and trust built across generations for adaptation. The ghotul offers all of these. It is both a physical space and a living pedagogy for resilience.

India, ranked the seventh most climate-vulnerable country, stands at the crossroads of climate urgency. In 2023 alone, nearly 47 million people were displaced globally due to disasters – over half of them due to floods, storms and droughts. The World Bank estimates that by 2050, as many as 216 million people could be internally displaced by climate-related impacts. For India, this isn’t just a warning – it’s a reality already unfolding in its villages, mountains and coasts. Climate change is no longer a distant or abstract threat; it is redefining geographies, reshaping lives and livelihoods in real time.

The deeper question, however, is this: “Are we willing to learn from those whose knowledge is rooted in lived experience?” Technology can support, but sustainable change must begin with community wisdom.

This Earth Day, what if we reimagined ghotuls as climate resilience hubs? Spaces where local youth, grounded in ecological identity, are equipped to document shifting weather patterns, manage water systems and revive traditional cropping practices? In Bastar, local civil society organisations are already doing this – training youth in water mapping with GPS tools, identifying early warning signs and using community radio like Bultoo to bridge ancestral knowledge with present-day challenges.

To be able to truly celebrate Earth Day, we must invest in community-led climate action, protect indigenous rights to land and forest, and bring local knowledge systems into national governance. We must also urge urban centres to not just fill energy gaps, but reduce consumption itself. Bastar’s way of life reminds us: sustainability is not about having more – it’s about needing less. Because eventually, “enough” may never be enough.

Harshita Umrao is a consultant at Climate Asia.

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