Original subtitles

Why are you keeping them in separate boxes?

Because we're exchanging these seeds with other farmers.

If this seed is only with me, what happens if it is destroyed?

It can only survive if others have it.

Saving them is our responsibility.

This one is so beautiful.

How do you identify them? They all look similar.

I can identify my children, right?

I have taken care of them for many years, so I know them.

Our food is the weather.

Each bite we take is a mix of sunlight and shadow.

A dance of wind and rain.

Rice may be our best example.

It mirrors the world's ever-changing climate,

encapsulated in every grain we grow and consume.

For millennia, it's been the lifeblood for billions.

Today, half the world could not survive without it.

But rice is so much more than fuel.

It reflects our culture.

It powers our traditions,

and it forms a starchy white canvas for some of our most delicious creations.

At the heart of these tastes and traditions,

thrives a singular force of nature.

The monsoon.

The powerful concentration of wind and water

that sweeps across Asia each summer,

gives birth to most of the world's rice.

As climate change rewrites the rules of this ancient cycle,

rice stands at the forefront of this uncertain moment.

It's a reminder of the fragile thread

that binds our food to the whims of nature,

challenging all of us,

farmers, cooks and eaters,

to adapt in the face of shifting tides.

Can the work of farmers help turn the tide?

Can individual people take on such a massive task?

Can rice weather the storm ahead?

- Father? - Yes?

When will you come back?

It's a long journey.

For me personally, rice is probably the strongest food memory I have.

My Albanian auntie's chicken rice, cooked in a wood-fired oven.

The grains glistening from chicken fat.

The steam that rose into the dining room.

The sweet smell of cooked rice.

This dish is the reason I became a cook.

In the world of noma, rice is our daily touchstone.

It's the one constant in the chaos of running a restaurant.

Every day, at 11:00, the bowl of rice becomes an act of communion

between 90 team members from all corners of the globe.

- Spicy. - You need it spicy.

One that forms a bond between the busy bike paths of Copenhagen

and the serene paddies of Southern India.

Look, we have big carrots, but your mother brought two tiny ones.

What did your father just say?

That you brought tiny carrots.

Why are you tearing them up?

Rudhraa finished her job quickly, didn't she?

That's why she's just sitting there.

When I took up farming, it was for our health.

My son, Bhagath, had health issues

when he was just two years old.

The doctor said...

my son's condition would worsen as he got older.

I was reading about food a lot those days,

and I learned about the nutritional value of traditional rice.

I had only heard about some traditional rice varieties like Rakthashali.

I had no idea how to source or find them.

And then one day, Rakthashali fell into my hands.

Rakthashali rice looks beautiful,

it's red in color, and it has many health benefits.

Is it sweet enough? What do you think?

- Is it sweet? - It's very sweet.

- Is it enough? - Yes.

I decided to quit my job and go into organic farming.

Because of my wife's job, we had some financial security.

That gave me courage.

She is my companion, and we make our decisions together.

When we got into this organic farming,

I knew it was very risky.

But my husband, I felt that a boldness was there in him.

I knew that he would see it through with me.

Our mind-set, our health, we owe it all to this rice.

We Indians have been consuming rice for a long period.

It's a main source of our energy.

When we make use of water, steam and fire,

it's going to change the rice to any form...

showing all these various aspects hidden in it.

But the future of rice is not stable,

and we are very worried.

Soaring food prices could be set to rise even higher

thanks to rice.

From China to the United States, rice production has fallen.

What is causing it?

Poor weather in China, decrease in output at Pakistan,

and the ongoing war in Ukraine.

Food is the new casualty of this war.

It's hard to believe that the journey to our dinner plates

is so deeply entwined with distant events.

A war across Europe

or a devastating soybean failure in Brazil.

Who might have imagined that the fate of a meal

could hinge on the monsoon winds sweeping across India,

determining whether families feast or face scarcity.

With every passing year, our food grows more dependent

on distant circumstances beyond our control.

And that burden is carried by the farmers.

This is the east.

Let's plant all black rice varieties here.

And Nasar Bath rice goes there.

It will make the edges of the field look colorful.

If the climate is favorable,

they will be ready at the beginning of harvest month.

I'm hopeful that nature will be kind to us.

Kerala used to be home to about 6,000 traditional varieties of rice.

But today we only have

about 200 varieties left.

When I started organic farming,

people thought it was foolish.

"You must be mad," they said.

Because organic farming is more labor-intensive than chemical farming,

and the yield is usually lower than farming done with chemicals.

But today our society has started to see its importance.

Survival of nature is just as crucial as our own survival.

There are endless stories to tell about rice around the world.

But India carves out its own chapter.

It's here, where the might of the monsoon hits especially hard,

that 40% of the global rice trade begins.

Approximately 10,000 to 15,000 bags of rice arrive at the market daily.

But recently, the quantity has been low due to weather.

From here it is sent to Europe, America, the Middle East, Dubai, and Iran.

Iraq as well.

Our rice goes all across the world.

The demand is incredibly high.

Come on, let's start.

- 4,000. - 4,200.

4,250.

- 4,300. - 4,300.

4,500.

4,625. Twice. Keep going.

4,625! Final.

India is a powerhouse of the world's rice exporters.

A veritable breadbasket

that sends millions of pounds of rice across the earth, annually.

Everyone, from the small family farms to the industrial giants,

must play to the tune of the monsoon,

where too much or too little rain could disrupt everything.

Reminding us of the delicate balance between nature's generosity

and our ever-growing appetite.

The era known as the Green Revolution was one of the most pivotal moments

in the history of agriculture.

It was a radical reimagining of how we grow food.

Before this period,

farming meant traditional knowledge passed down through millennia.

But in the sixties, with famine looming over India and far beyond,

scientists unleashed a series of new tools,

from high-yielding hybrid seeds to powerful pesticides,

that altered the ten thousand-year history of rice farming seemingly overnight.

In a matter of years,

farmers were harvesting twice as much rice from their paddies.

By some estimates, hundreds of millions were saved from starvation.

It was a clear win for humanity,

but it cast long shadows.

This big arsenal of high-yielding seeds

and the cocktail of chemicals carries a cost.

The loss of biodiversity, the depletion of water tables,

the pollution of rivers and soil beds.

A spike in cancer and other health issues.

Did we outsmart nature and find a way to sustain our growing population?

Or in the long run, did we create more problems than we solved

for future generations?

We are getting more orders for our rice seeds now.

A lot of people are asking.

We have received an order even today.

Let's borrow a scale from the store.

I have many friends who are interested in agriculture.

But I was drawn to Jayakrishnan's entrepreneurial spirit.

We've been working together for five years.

Our shared thirst for knowledge

about traditional seeds keeps us connected.

Each seed opens a world of curiosity.

Look at the Kuruva rice seed, which we sow as a summer crop.

If there's the possibility of a drought, this seed will flower 10-15 days early.

From that, a farmer can predict if a drought is coming.

A traditional seed creates this incredible web of communication.

A chain from soil to plant, from plant to farmer.

Traditional seeds have a stronger survival strategy against changing weather.

They have a wonderful capacity to adapt.

Even if this is the case, rice is in a big crisis

when unexpected weather problems occur.

The monsoon stands as nature's paradox.

A life giver that holds the power to both nurture...

and devastate.

It's driven by a dramatic shift in winds where the skies burst...

releasing months' worth of rain in weeks.

Turning arid land into vibrant fields.

Billions of gallons of water breathe life into crops and replenish rivers,

shaping the traditions and destinies of an entire continent.

Yet the might of the monsoon is not always merciful.

Its raging torrents can flood.

In its absence, the earth cracks, parched,

affecting everyone who relies on nature's capricious balance for their way of life.

And the wild swings between too much and too little have no end in sight.

It's cloudy. It might rain soon.

After sowing, it takes 10-15 days for the roots to sprout

and the seedling to be ready for re-planting.

In rice farming, everything revolves around water.

Paddy fields themselves are reservoirs of water.

Water must be filled and drained at the right time.

What we fear the most is unexpected rain,

which is now a big issue.

Because it puts our entire harvest at risk.

The current weather conditions are making

the farming calendar irrelevant.

For millennia, the rhythms of rural Asia have been set by the rice calendar.

In the spring, seeds are sown in prepared beds.

By early summer

the small stocks are transplanted to large irrigated paddies,

where they'll spend more than a hundred days

maturing into fully grown rice plants.

During that time, farmers flood rice fields

as an insurance policy against pests and weeds.

A process unchanged for thousands of years.

To walk the path of JK and Leneesh is to engage in a test of endurance.

A trial of skill and backbreaking work and deep faith in the elements.

All for an ingredient that so many cultures have come to depend on.

I have never met anyone who doesn't like rice.

And I've met all eaters under the sun in my time at noma.

But rice?

Feed an infant rice, often one bite, and they are hooked for life.

In my home, in the cool north of Denmark,

where rye bread and liver paste are staples,

the omnipresence of rice in other parts of the world

is unimaginable to many.

But it's the stuff of everyday life,

devoured from the first light of early morning to the last call of night.

And virtually every moment in between.

The kernel of rice has morphed into so many creations.

Thousands of flavors, all from this one grain.

Around the world, rice is king.

It's 5:00 p.m. at a night market in Bali.

Food vendors are turning rice into a spread.

A woman fires up a wok,

adds rice, meat, and vegetables to its searing belly.

In Spain, cooks are simmering paella.

In Korea, rice is being crisped up into bibimbap.

Fluffy jollof rice is shared at the dinner table in a Nigerian household.

Rice dishes might differ in name or in the mix of ingredients,

but somehow they're kindred spirits in any kitchen,

united by this simple grain turned into something delicious.

In a world of differences,

we can all agree that there's no disagreement over rice.

It's universally loved.

A shared language of deliciousness.

A reminder of simple pleasures.

And to the power of food that can draw us, ever so slightly, a little bit closer.

When I started organic rice paddy farming,

the only traditional rice variety I knew of was Navara rice.

Seeds like Navara are centuries old.

And maybe that's why these seeds have a deeper understanding

of the changing weather.

They are more resilient.

With this knowledge,

we are collecting traditional seeds from all over India.

Climate change has accelerated the pace of my search

for traditional seeds.

I realized that the farmers who have seeds today

might not have them tomorrow.

Jayakrishnan, you have traveled a long way to come here.

How many varieties of rice do you have?

I have more than 200 varieties of rice

with me.

Here, take a look at our traditional variety.

Give it a shot in your area and see how it fares.

Who knows, maybe in the future

these varieties will become dominant in our rice fields.

The traditional varieties may be our only hope.

- Thank you. - Thank you so much.

Thank you.

Jayakrishnan and I started farming to look after the children.

But when he started traveling suddenly, I was worried and slightly hurt.

I didn't quite like the concept of him traveling around.

But it's only of late that I too started understanding

that there was a need to conserve these varieties.

It's not enough that a few people alone can have all this,

you have to share it with others too.

What are you growing this season in your area?

We are focusing more on black rice and Rakthashali.

Okay.

There is a lot of rains here.

That's why we have developed one variety called SH...

Human beings are believed to be the most intelligent species.

Many times I have felt the opposite because our greed is insatiable.

We don't value nature's abundant blessings until we end up losing all of it.

A second cyclonic storm made landfall in the Indian state of Odisha.

This is the second cyclonic storm that the country is witnessing

in the span of a few weeks.

Cyclone Yaas weakened into a severe cyclonic storm

after pounding the coast of Odisha and neighboring West Bengal

with wind speeds exceeding 130 kilometers per hour.

Yaas, which was earlier classified as a very severe...

The weather appears to be quite terrible.

A cyclone has formed.

We are supposed to begin harvesting tomorrow,

but it appears rain will continue all through the week.

We'll need to find some laborers.

I hope people will be willing to work in the rain.

If it's not harvested in time our field will be ruined.

It is said when that mountain is filled with smoke

rain is guaranteed.

Look at the mountain.

It's just smoldering.

Imagine if you can

that every planting season is a bet that farmers place on the future.

It's a high-stakes gamble for all of us, but especially for the people who feed us.

We hope for the best,

but nobody knows what awaits in the clouds.

A storm too fierce, a frost too early,

or a plague of pests too hungry.

Any of these can drastically alter what we bring to our table.

The forces of nature, especially the unpredictable monsoon,

remain untamed by the human hand.

It wasn't long ago that crop failure became

an unwelcome addition to our vocabulary.

Now it's a constant backdrop in our conversations about climate.

And the forecast signals that crop disasters will be the new normal.

Could the unthinkable happen?

Could we one day be without rice?

At the heart of this question is a scene bustling with different players,

seeking answers that will yield a prosperous future for the grain.

All possibilities are on the table.

Rice grown in the ocean.

Rice grown in the desert.

Rice grown in the dark.

The International Rice Research Institute stands at the center of this movement.

A pivotal force in rice innovation since the Green Revolution.

Countless others have joined the fray.

The quest for a silver bullet is on.

But is there one?

For how long can we keep refining seeds?

And is the answer to continue down the path of decreasing diversity?

Would it be too much to hope for the opposite?

An explosion of diversity,

where each grain of rice is suited to its place and its people.

That's where farmers like JK come in.

That's the work they're doing.

Despite the different approaches,

everyone agrees we need to do something.

This clear sky today brings hope and joy.

But there is concern at the same time.

From our experience, we know that disaster can strike at any moment.

So the decision to harvest immediately and salvage what we can

comes from many painful lessons.

We hope this year's crops will be saved.

But a clear sky doesn't mean that we're out of the woods yet.

We are expecting more rain anytime.

Normally after harvesting,

we leave the sheaves in the paddy field to dry before threshing.

But that's not possible now.

The sheaves need to be threshed into grains

as quickly as possible.

I'm doing my best to keep the farming going.

But for how long?

For every seed sown in the field,

there is worry until it returns.

Many farmers have suffered losses due to climate change.

For us, this rice itself will be enough.

Despite the best efforts of millions of rice farmers across India,

this year's haul wasn't enough.

In 2023, a temporary export ban was put in place.

The main reason for the ban,

fear of El Niño and the uncertain weather ahead.

Another reminder of the power of the elements

that shape the way we eat,

and the surprising ways that food connects us all.

Shall we eat?

Ruthu, take the stew.

He wants the salad mixed with sambar.

- What? - Mixed with sambar.

Mix sambar. Here, take sambar.

Ambu, here, papad here.

- Papad for Ambu. - Papad for Ambu.

Papad.

- Can I give it to Ambu? - Correct.

For some time now, we've been living a beautiful life.

It is a blessing of nature.

Climate change could destroy that.

Let me check how gifted Mom's hands are.

Mom's gifted hands or whose gifted hands?

If it is good, then it is mine.

But climate change is actually

strengthening our relationship with rice.

It's a little spicy.

Yes, need water.

Let's say one of our children came down with an illness tomorrow

or some tragedy befell them.

We would hold them close and try every possible method to keep them safe.

Rice farming is an integral part of our identity.

So, in order to preserve it,

we must hold rice close to our hearts and spare no effort to care for it.

Father?

Why do you love rice so much?

See this seed?

Our ancestors used to say,

"Don't eat the seeds even when poverty is at its worst."

We need to save these seeds for your grandchildren.