One Nation, Fragmented Rations: migration and food (in)security in Bengaluru

The One Nation One Ration Card scheme, initiated in 2019, is still to deliver on its promise of food security to itinerant workers

Niyati Shah

Anoushka Srinivas

Ration cardholders, mostly from Karnataka, line up to receive their allotted foodgrains at an FPS shop in Bengaluru. Niyati Shah/The Migration Story

Bengaluru, Karnataka: In a neighbourhood in Southeastern Bengaluru, a queue stretched from the Fair Price Shop (FPS) to a tea stall in the adjacent block. The dealer, Harish Kumar, and his helper poured and measured with practiced rhythm, while cardholders waited, papers in hand. Young men on motorcycles balanced their family's allotted foodgrains between sandals before taking off. At noon, the dealer stopped for a filter coffee break.

Every month, this scene is played out across Bengaluru, as FPSs open their shutters to distribute raagi millet and rice to ration-card holders. Harish Kumar’s shop distributes rations to more than 2,500 people every month, with migrants comprising a small fraction of the total.

“People from Tamil Nadu, Telangana, and Odisha do come to our store to avail rations through portability. But the government is not allotting more grains to meet the demand,” Kumar said.

Portability is a feature of the One Nation One Ration Card scheme passed in 2019, by the Central Government, to offer subsidized food grains from ration shops for all cardholders, in any part of India. The catalyst for the scheme’s rollout were the mass homeward migrations and steep increases in food and livelihood insecurity among low-wage workers during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Historically, India’s Public Distribution System (PDS) was tied to home districts and did not address the needs of families on the move in the many migration corridors that crisscross India. ONORC sought to correct this with a baseline distribution of a local variety of a traditional carbohydrate—rice, wheat, sorghum, and millet—in any part of the country.

In theory, ONORC is supposed to provide subsidised rations, whether the migrant family claims it at the home district or end destination. In reality, ration coverage is not guaranteed, even for migrants who have completed the necessary documentation to show the transfer, migrant workers said.

Nagamma Anamanta, a 26-year-old migrant woman from North Karnataka, provides for her family of four by working as a helper at a construction site in Bengaluru. She usually manages to avail monthly rations—3 kg of raagi and 10 kg of rice. But she also echoed Kumar and said that getting foodgrains is not always a given.

“A lot of families from here go to the same ration shop, right? But not everyone gets rations regardless of whether we go in the beginning of the distribution cycle, or towards the end,” she explained.

Travelling rations, not travelled far enough

Mariyamma, a 35-year-old domestic worker residing in East Bengaluru, splits and “switches off" on her family’s allotted foodgrains, using the family ration card issued to her mother, back in the village. When she does not avail the family’s share for the month in the city, her mother collects the rice and jowar (sorghum) back home. Between split households, her mother retains grains for sustenance into the following month, allowing Mariyamma, in Bengaluru, to avail rations the next month.

Mariyamma poses with her ration card in a suburb of Whitefield, Bengaluru. In her neighborhood, she is among the few women from North Karnataka who receive rations. Niyati Shah/The Migration Story

A 2023 Rajya Sabha discussion explained how this ‘switching off’ helps sustain food access across the migration continuum, . “Interstate portability gives flexibility to migrant beneficiaries to be self-reliant for their food security…[and] at the same time it allows their family members back in the village/home (if any) to also draw the part/balance foodgrains on the same ration card for their food security,” Piyush Goyal, the Minister of Commerce of Consumer Affairs, Food and Public Distribution had stated.

But six years after the scheme’s launch, its implementation is patchy.

Researchers, field officers, FPS dealers, and migrants talk about the complex web of factors and decisions that determine a household’s ration coverage. In some cases, elders back home may be availing rations, so migrants decide not to transfer their cards to the city. Some aim to return to their origins after a few years, making the cumbersome paperwork (transfer of card can take anywhere from three months to a year) seem unnecessary.

Chandnahara Khatun lives with her parents and sister two lanes from Mariyamma. Her family hesitates to transfer their cards. “We want to go back to the village, right? We don’t want to have to shift our ration card here and then shift it again to West Bengal,” said Khatun.

However, this can compromise access to other necessary documents at migrant destinations. This happened to Khatun, who is trying to obtain an income certificate for a college scholarship. “They told me that you need a voter card or ration card from here. For that reason, I didn’t get an income certificate. If I had one, I could get a scholarship or if I want to take an exam in the future, I wouldn’t have to pay as much,” she explained.

Many lack an active ration card and others aren’t aware of the distribution schedule or the locations of FPSs. In certain cases, families have brought their ration cards from the village upon hearing that they can avail rations here, only to be denied grains at the FPS.

Workers  unloading rations at a fair price shop in Bengaluru. Niyati Shah/The Migration Story

“ONORC as a system is very good. But the problem is that the current state government doesn’t really enforce it,” a FPS dealer, requesting anonymity, told The Migration Story.

Portability is not consistent and ration cards that aren’t actively used expire after three months.

Manjula Vani, whose family has lived in Bengaluru for over a decade, has tried to avail rations at an FPS in East Bengaluru. “Every time they say the same thing— ‘This is a village card. Go take it from your village. Not from here’,” she said.

So she misses work every three months and boards a homebound bus just to keep her card active. While she can collect the 10 kg of sorghum and rice from the village FPS she is unable to shuttle the foodgrains on her own back to the city.

Her card was once suspended in her home district in East Karnataka, because she hadn’t returned to avail rations prior to the three-month mark. “We had to wait and then go to the taluk office to request reactivation. They ask for documents, proofs, sometimes even Aadhaar again. It takes time,” she said.

Mangala Sudha, a field officer at non-profit Sampark that works on migrant workers’ welfare, has observed many cases where families with no one left in the village end up returning frequently to keep their ration cards active.

“They save the 1,000-2,000 rupees that would’ve been used as travel expenses to get rations from their hometown; they can use it to get other rations,” Sudha said, adding that this money could be used for children's schooling or medical expenses.

Barriers in ONORC’s implementation

On a Friday before distribution day, ration recipients stopped their motorbikes to inquire about the next delivery at a ration shop in Bengaluru. The PDS dealer and building owner directed them to return a week later. In some cases, PDS dealers like Kumar, notify recipients of the delivery date via Whatsapp.

Many others however don’t keep the public apprised, much to the chagrin of recipients. When asked about the next delivery, two women reclining on the steps of a ration shop in South Bengaluru chuckled grimly, commenting about the unpredictability of opening and operating times.

The unpredictability is felt by the FPS dealers themselves, who are sometimes left in the dark about delivery dates.

In July, delays were caused by lorry owners protesting delays in compensation for transporting food grains, said Purushottam, who manages an FPS in Southeastern Bengaluru. He recalled Karnataka’s former Food Commissioner Harsh Gupta, who ensured that rations were made available to FPSs in the last week of the month so that distribution could begin at the start of the following month. If continued, this procedure could help dealers better serve cardholders, he suggested.

Fair price shop manager Purushottam updates the total number of Bengaluru households he serves in each of the ration card categories, which are Antyodaya Anna Yojana (AAY), Below Poverty Line (BPL), and Above Poverty Line (APL). Niyati Shah/The Migration Story

Experts describe how interstate migrants face greater barriers to ration coverage, owing to limited awareness of the policy, attitude of FPS dealers and challenges with compiling all the necessary documents. A 2024 study led by Dr. Chinmay Tumbe at the Indian Institute of Management, revealed that coverage disparity is especially stark in Karnataka, with 698 interstate transactions compared to 1,062,481 intrastate, in September 2023.

In South Bengaluru, FPS dealer Venkatesh prepared for distribution day.  “The [ONORC] scheme that has been brought in is actually good. For a couple years, it worked; they did provide 10-20% extra rations concurrently with rations for registered cardholders to meet the needs of migrants,” he said.

Allocations are based on the registered cards per shop, which number 800 in South Bengaluru’s FPSs. Stocks clear in 2-3 days.

Dealers report having to negotiate between reaching their quota of sales and striving for equitable distribution to registered and portability card-holders. If they try to distribute beyond their quotas, the system caps the stock by registered cards and stops sales.

This balancing act can result in migrant families only receiving rations towards the very end of the distribution cycle. “He gives rations to those who have a local address first, and then, if the supply isn’t over, he gives it to us,” said Nagamma.

A 2022 Dalberg study revealed that 59% of surveyed PDS dealers in Karnataka cite biometric authentication failure as a hurdle to serving portability cardholders; 44% cite poor internet connectivity.

Purushottam confirmed that authentication is hampered by unpredictable server connectivity, sometimes for many days, overload issues, and difficulty recognizing older recipients’ fading fingerprints.

A notice announcing the closure of a fair price shop in Bengaluru due to server issues.

Niyati Shah/The Migration Story

Most migrants are not aware about the portability paperwork, which includes their Aadhaar card, proof of relocation, current ration card, an income certificate, the address of their preferred FPS in the city and a transfer application to be submitted at any Bangalore One Centre listed on the Karnataka One website.

Explaining the process a migrant worker has to follow to initiate their ration portability, Sudha from non-profit Sampark said that language barriers pose another challenge with Aadhar cards printed in other languages not being recognized by systems trained to read only Kannada or English.

Not only do workers have to update their Aadhar cards, with address change, name change, or getting such information changed to the language required, but also carry a ‘transfer permission letter’ to avail rations in the city.

“If there is anyone applying for a ration card, we link them to a Bangalore One cell. If they require any help with changing names or correcting spelling errors, or if they need address and shop change support, I act as reference to people.”

“But those who come from say, Odisha, Bihar, Assam, and West Bengal will have to bring a permission letter from their hometown that states that they would like to get their [rations] transferred here,” she said, adding that most are migrants are unaware of this and once they arrive in the city, getting the letter from home becomes a challenge.

“It can take anywhere from three months to a year to receive a ration card after applying. There have even been folks who have waited up to three years,"  Sudha said, adding that while their applications were being processed, migrants resorted to getting rations through other channels like privately owned ration shops.

The right to food

A long canon of Indian legislation and activism reinforces a vision of the right to food for all. Supreme Court decisions over the past few years have ruled that state governments must issue rations to migrant workers who can’t access subsidized food grains under the National Food Security Act (under which the ONORC scheme is implemented).  However the realities at India’s 5.38 lakh FPSs are a drastic departure from the rulings passed through courts, say rights campaigners.

From 2023 to 2024, the Central Government promoted ONORC by sending over six crore SMSs to beneficiaries and FPS dealers across the country, according to 2023 government data. The Minister of Consumer Affairs and Public Distribution stated that the department also created awareness through workshops, FM radio, banners, bus wraps, and social media channels.

Migrants, however, reported that the word travels primarily through kith and kin—neighbours, field workers, and even FPS dealers. Nagamma learned about ONORC from her home district’s FPS dealer. “When we told him we are moving to Bengaluru, he said we can get rations from anywhere in Karnataka,” she shared.

Rations are indispensable for migrants, who face high rents, low wages and stark health disparities, say campaigners. Niyati Shah/The Migration Story

Migrants reported that current quantities fell short of fulfilling the nutritional needs of relatives farming back home as well as for the extended family working in the city.

According to Purushottam, Karnataka used to distribute pulses, sugar, wheat, and oil before 2020. He, along with other dealers, look to the more generous PDS policy of Tamil Nadu for its inclusion of sugar and kerosene. “People actually ask us: ‘We get oil, sugar, wheat and such in our village. So, why aren’t they available here in the city?’,” said a ration shop dealer.

For a fulfilling meal, Nagamma wishes for channa daal (Bengal gram). “They give us flour for roti and rice, but what should we eat it with? We pay for vegetables with the money that we earn. We would like to eat this with daal. When we mix it together, it tastes good and it’s good for our health,” she said.

Activists and researchers contend that rations are indispensable for migrants, who face high rents, low wages, and stark health disparities .

The PDS’s stakeholders stress the need for a joint effort that fulfils the promise of ONORC. Experts and activists call for stronger, reliable inter-state technology, alternatives to biometric authentication, clearer documentation processes, and distinct allocations for portability cards.

They assert that a concerted, collectivized effort to enrol along migration corridors, coupled with

a reformed, expansive Public Distribution System, can ensure that no family is severed from the

foodstuffs they are entitled to—in the village and in the city.

“We should get rations here! We have to pay the house rent, the electricity bill, household expenses, and we have to send money back home,” said Khatun.  “No savings remain. That’s why we should get rations—at least, just a bit of rice or some oil.”

Edited by Meetu Grover

Niyati Shah is a public health researcher based in Bengaluru and Washington, DC. She studies environmental health in migrant communities and documents portals on her quiet photography page - https://www.instagram.com/fragment.assemblage/.

Anoushka Srinivas collects stories on individuals and societies while re-exploring her hometown Bengaluru. Her background is in International Studies with a focus on Ethnicity, Identity, and Migration.