In the remote district of Panna, Madhya Pradesh, life revolves around a singular hope: the dream of uncovering diamonds. The earth here, once rich with glittering stones, has shaped the lives of generations of diamond hunters, who have come to depend on the soil beneath their feet for survival. But in recent years, the once-bountiful diamond reserves have begun to dwindle, and the work of diamond hunting has become more difficult and precarious. Despite this, the allure of diamonds remains as powerful as ever.
Panna is one of India’s most impoverished regions, where unemployment, poverty, and water shortages define the daily existence of its residents. Yet it is also home to the country’s richest diamond reserves, and for generations, families have been drawn to its mines in search of fortune. For many, diamond hunting is more than just a job—it is a tradition passed down from one generation to the next.
One of the many miners who have spent their lives searching for diamonds in Panna is Prakash Sharma, a 67-year-old man whose passion for the hunt has sustained him for more than five decades. “I feel sick if I don’t search for diamonds. It’s like a drug,” he says, describing the obsession that has defined his life. Sharma began diamond hunting in 1974, following in the footsteps of his father, a famous diamond hunter in their village. Shortly after he started, Sharma found a six-carat diamond, an early success that set him on a lifelong quest to find more.
The diamond mining industry in Panna is a mix of formal and informal operations. The National Mineral Development Corporation (NMDC) operates the Majhgawan mine, India’s only mechanized diamond mine, which has produced over 1.3 million carats of diamonds since it began operations in 1968. However, for most of Panna’s residents, diamond hunting involves leasing small plots of land from the government at nominal prices and sifting through the gravel in hopes of finding a gem.
But the diamond reserves in Panna have been severely depleted over the years, and the large, rare stones that once characterized the region are now increasingly difficult to find. Nevertheless, thousands of miners continue to dig, driven by the hope of finding a valuable stone that could change their lives. The work is physically demanding, with miners spending long hours sifting through gravel, washing and drying it, and carefully inspecting it for any signs of diamonds. Often, the work is a family affair, with children and elders alike contributing to the effort.
When diamonds are found, they must be submitted to the government’s diamond office for evaluation. The stones are then auctioned, and after taxes and royalties are deducted, the remaining profits are distributed to the miners. The process can be slow, and many miners grow frustrated with the long wait times, but the potential rewards are too great to ignore.
For some miners, diamond hunting is more than just a way to make a living—it is a family tradition. Shyamlal Jatav, 58, is part of a family that has been mining for diamonds for generations. His grandfather began the practice, and now Jatav’s son balances his schoolwork with part-time work in the mines. Although the diamonds his grandfather found were worth far less than those mined today, the tradition has continued, driven by the hope of finding a stone that could fetch millions of rupees.
For some, that hope becomes a reality. In July, laborer Raja Gound discovered a 19.22-carat diamond after more than a decade of mining. The gem sold for approximately 8 million rupees ($95,000), allowing Gound to pay off his debts and improve his financial situation. Stories like Gound’s are rare, but they serve as a reminder of the transformative power of diamonds, inspiring countless others to continue their search despite the hardships they face.
India has a long and storied history in the diamond industry. For more than 3,000 years, the country was the world’s only source of diamonds, and even today, Panna remains a vital part of India’s diamond industry. However, much of the trade in Panna operates outside the formal system. Many miners, seeking to avoid taxes and the long wait times associated with government auctions, choose to sell their diamonds on the black market. While it is difficult to measure the extent of the illegal trade, it is widely acknowledged to be a significant part of the region’s diamond economy.
Ravi Patel, Panna’s mining officer, notes that the number of diamonds submitted for government auctions has dramatically declined in recent years. In 2016, the government received over 1,100 diamonds for auction; by 2023, that number had fallen to just 23. Patel attributes the decline to increased restrictions on mining in certain areas, particularly those within the Panna Tiger Reserve.
The reserve, home to more than 50 tigers, has been the focus of significant conservation efforts in recent years. Large sections of forested land have been designated as no-go zones for miners, and those caught operating in these areas face severe penalties. The restrictions have made it more difficult for miners to access some of the most productive areas, yet many continue to take the risk, driven by the hope of finding a valuable diamond.
For some, diamond hunting represents more than just a way to make a living—it is a path to a better life. Prakash Majumdar turned to the mines in 2020 after losing his job during the Covid-19 lockdown. Within a month, he found his first diamond, valued at 2.9 million rupees. That find changed his life, allowing him to move his family into a concrete home and secure his future. Today, Majumdar is the elected head of his village, but he continues to search for diamonds, driven by the same hope that sustains thousands of others in Panna. Panna’s diamond mines may be running dry, but the dream of finding a fortune remains as strong as ever. For the miners who spend their days sifting through gravel, the possibility of finding a diamond is not just a way to escape poverty—it is a path to a better life. As long as that dream endures, the diamond hunters of Panna will continue their search, one shovel full of gravel at a time.
