India’s forests are often described in terms of timber and wildlife, yet they also hold a quieter record of daily survival support in the form of wild foods. In eastern Maharashtra, forest margins, village commons, and fallow land continue to supply berries and small fruits that are neither farmed nor sold widely in markets, but are gathered when they appear in season.

These fruits rarely feature in official agricultural discussions, despite being eaten in households and by herders, forest workers, and children passing through scrubland and low forest. They are part of routines that are learned early and rarely written down, passed across generations through observation rather than instruction. Their value does not come from packaging or branding but from the fact that they grow without formal care and return year after year at predictable moments.

In Vidarbha, the use of such wild berries remains visible in both rural settlements and forest-edge hamlets, where fruiting shrubs and undergrowth plants are known by sight long before their botanical names. Understanding these berries means tracing a different kind of food system, one that exists parallel to markets and government schemes and continues with little attention.

1. Karwand or Karonda (Carissa carandas)

Karonda is a thorny shrub that grows in clusters along roadsides, field edges, and forest borders, especially in dry zones. Its fruits change colour as they mature, starting green and firm and later turning shades of red, maroon, and deep purple. The berries are small and oval and are known for their strong sour taste when unripe and a sweeter profile at full maturity. In villages, the shrub is often noticed more for its sharp thorns than its fruit, yet the berries are picked regularly when they ripen toward the warmer months.

Children are commonly seen plucking them directly from the shrub, while older residents collect enough to bring back home in cloth bags. The fruits are eaten raw, but they are also boiled with sugar and salt or prepared into pickles when households choose to store them. There is no formal harvesting practice, yet people tend to monitor certain bushes known to fruit more heavily each year.

The plant thrives in poor soils and areas with limited rainfall, which explains its persistence in many semi rural areas and forest boundaries. It is commonly found growing without deliberate planting and often appears where grazing animals avoid its thorny branches. Rural households know that the fruit must be picked at the right stage, since the unripe form is sharply acidic and rarely eaten in large quantities. In its mature stage, the fruit’s taste softens and becomes less aggressive. Traditional knowledge includes recognising colour changes and assessing texture by touch. Although karonda is grown in some parts of India as a horticultural crop, in eastern Maharashtra, it is more often encountered as a wild plant. Its continued appearance in uncultivated spaces has kept it outside the formal agricultural economy.

Nutritional studies have noted that karonda contains vitamin C and small amounts of iron, though such information rarely circulates among those who collect it informally. People eat it because it grows close to home and because previous generations did the same. There is no ceremonial value attached to it, and no ritual context governs its use. It is collected as food rather than as part of religious practice. Forestry records classify it as part of scrub and dry deciduous undergrowth vegetation, particularly in regions where rainfall is uneven. Transport workers, woodcutters, and forest travellers often carry a handful of the berries during seasonal work. While its presence extends far beyond central India, its role as a forest side fruit remains visible in pockets where land remains uncleared. In Vidarbha, karonda still appears year after year, even on land that has seen decades of farming and grazing.

2. Karai or Governor’s Plum (Flacourtia indica)

Karai is a small tree or large shrub with dense branches and naturally occurring thorns. Its fruit resembles a small plum and ripens to a dark purple colour with a soft pulpy interior. Unlike karonda, which grows low to the ground, karai produces fruit at reachable heights, making it easier to collect without tools. The tree is scattered across forest tracts and village woodlands and is particularly common in scrub forests and along water channels. Its fruit is eaten raw and has a balanced mix of slight sweetness and tang. The taste is milder compared to karonda and makes it easier to consume in larger quantities. In rural settlements, people often shake the branches to dislodge ripe fruit, collecting what falls on the ground.

Karai trees are not planted deliberately in most places. They grow as part of natural forest regeneration and appear along unused paths, livestock corridors, and village outskirts. The tree is slow growing, which makes its natural spread dependent on seed dispersal by animals and birds. Forest department records classify it as part of dry deciduous forest systems, where it grows among teak, bamboo, and other secondary species. In parts of eastern Maharashtra, the tree is one of the few fruit bearing species available to forest inhabitants outside seasonal crops. Its fruiting period is brief, which encourages collection as soon as the berries begin to soften.

While the fruit is eaten fresh, no significant small scale trade has developed around it, unlike forest produce such as tendu leaves or mahua flowers. Karai does not lend itself easily to commercial processing and remains part of domestic consumption rather than market circulation. People familiar with its taste treat it as a seasonal bonus rather than a dependable food source. The tree also produces a thin shade, which makes it unsuitable for dense plantations. Older residents often speak of climbing the trees during childhood to gather the fruit directly. Such practices continue today in places where forest access has not been heavily restricted.

Botanically, the plant is recognised across India and tropical regions beyond, yet its identity in eastern Maharashtra is bound to forest and settlement spaces rather than agriculture. It does not occupy a place in crop lists or development programmes. Most younger residents are introduced to it informally, through observation and imitation rather than explanation. The fruit carries no branding and no standardised name across regions, which limits its wider prominence. Despite appearing in botanical texts, it exists socially as a local fruit more than a national one. In Vidarbha, karai remains a quiet presence in forest edges, offering its fruit without advertising its arrival.

3. Ran Popti or Wild Physalis (Physalis angulata)

Ran popti is a small herb that produces bright yellow berries enclosed in a thin papery casing that looks like a dried lantern. These berries grow close to the ground and are easy to overlook until the husk dries and becomes visible among weeds. The fruit inside is soft and mildly sweet, with a light acidic note. Children often recognise the plant before adults do, since it grows on pathsides, near huts, and at the edges of cultivated fields. Unlike shrubs and trees, this plant completes its life cycle quickly and appears after seasonal rain. It is one of the earliest fruits to show up in monsoon affected regions.

Collecting ran popti requires no effort beyond bending down and plucking it from the stem. The fruit is eaten fresh and rarely taken home in quantity, as it spoils quickly after being picked. Unlike karonda or karai, it has no structure that invites preservation or storage. People eat it where they find it. Livestock also feed on the plant, which reduces the number of fruiting stems in open areas. The plant grows in disturbed soil, including abandoned plots, construction debris, and village margins.

In agricultural terminology, ran popti is often classified more as a weed than as a wild fruit. Farmers rarely encourage it, yet they rarely attempt to remove it completely. Its appearance indicates wet soil and open ground that has not been regularly tilled. While it has uses in traditional medicine in some parts of the country, such applications are not central to its role as a food in eastern Maharashtra. There is no common household method of preserving it, nor is it served at gatherings or rituals.

The plant’s distribution extends well beyond India and includes tropical countries across multiple continents. Yet its identity in rural Maharashtra is that of a childhood fruit, eaten during walks and forgotten afterwards. It appears and disappears without leaving a trace. Older residents often talk about recognising its husk long before learning its name. It is remembered for its shape as much as its taste. In many settlements, children refer to it simply by a local phrase rather than a botanical term. In Vidarbha, ranpopti grows unnoticed in plain sight, forming part of the daily environment rather than a named resource.

Wild berries of this kind rarely occupy a place in formal discussions about food security or agriculture, yet their presence shows another layer of access that exists alongside cultivation. They appear without cultivation cycles, without irrigation planning, and without subsidy lists. They are noticed because they are there, not because they are promoted. People learn to recognise them by colour changes, by smell, and by where they tend to grow.

Their use reflects a food habit that is neither written in manuals nor controlled by schemes. It persists through routine and familiarity. As cities grow and land use shifts, many of these plants survive quietly on margins that development has not yet reached. Their survival says less about preservation policies and more about ecological stubbornness. They continue to offer fruit without asking for space in return.