Buried in recent monthly data for wholesale prices in India, 
the wild gyrations of a humble vegetable tell the tale of an 
economy trapped in inflation by its own rigidities. In street 
markets and on the handcarts of vegetable hawkers, the rise 
has been even steeper, a shock for millions of Indians
who lay their tables each day with curries made of onions, tomatoes, 
lentils and "aloo", or potatoes.

"We used to buy whatever vegetables we liked, but now we always have 
to check the prices," says Maninder Kaur, shopping with her family at a 
market in Jalandhar, in Punjab, where a kilogramme (2.2 lb) of potatoes 
that cost 4-5 rupees (8-10 U.S. cents) at the beginning of the year is now 
up to four times more expensive.
Meanwhile, onions are selling for about a fifth of the price they were at 
the end of last year and the price of tomatoes rose 33 percent in April alone. 

Such erratic prices for perishable goods are routine in India, partly because 
the majority of farms depend on the variable monsoon for rains. However, 
they are also due to inadequate cold storage facilities and transport bottlenecks - 
that together cause up to 40 percent of the country's food harvests to rot before 
they get to market - and a primitive distribution network in which many layers 
of middlemen take cuts, forcing prices higher.

"The storage and the distribution networks are not getting better, so whenever 
there is even a small supply shock or a small demand shock prices are going 
haywire," said Samiran Chakraborty, chief economist at Standard Chartered in Mumbai.
"It has become structural in nature, and this is precisely why everybody is calling for 
supply-side reforms."

MANY MIDDLEMEN
There was a brief chance last December to sort out the distribution system, 
which for agricultural goods is deeply fragmented by a decades-old marketing act 
that prevents large retailing companies from buying produce directly from farmers.
But, hemmed in by coalition allies with an aversion to free market reform, the 
government was forced into a U-turn on plans to open up the retail sector to 
global chains like Wal-Mart (WMT.N) and Carrefour (CARR.PA).

"The current marketing system has been in existence for more than 60 years, 
neither benefitting the farmer nor the consumer," said N.R. Bhanumurthy, an 
economist at the National Institute of Public Finance and Policy, a Delhi-based think tank.
"We need competition and an alternative business model ... where retailers 
can buy directly from the farmers and eliminate the middlemen," he said.
Take the "aloo", which is passed from farmer to middleman after middleman 
and then to the final vendor like a hot potato, climbing in price at every stage.
In Punjab, a potato-growing state, big trading firms bought more than 80 percent 
of the crop from farmers at the end of last year for 3,500-4,000 rupees a tonne 
and put their purchases in storage.

Then, in the new year, as supplies tightened, they drip-fed wholesale markets, auctioning
their stock off at 7,000-8,000 rupees per tonne, a mark-up of more than 60 percent after 

their transport and storage costs.
At this point "commission agents" make a 5 percent charge, and the government levies 
4 percent in auction tax. The auction buyers sell for a 20-30 percent profit to intermediate 
wholesalers, who take a similar cut and pass the potatoes on to final vendors in the 
streets and neighbourhood shops.

At the end of the chain, potatoes that were sold at the farm gate for 3-4 rupees per kg 
reach the market at 15-20 rupees. The story is the same for many farm products. 
Neeraj Kumar, a commission agent in Jalandhar town, says garlic bought some 
2,500 km (1,500 miles) away in Assam at 3-4 rupees/kg can soar to 30 rupees within 
hours of being unloaded.

On the potato fields outside Jalandhar, the mood is despondent. Farmers are bitter 
that they were forced to sell their produce to traders at rock-bottom prices.
"Last year when we stocked potatoes in cold stores, there were no buyers, forcing 
us to leave the harvest in fields. This time, we sold it early to traders, but now 
the prices have gone up three-fold," says farmer Avtar Singh. "It is my fate. We do 
not know when prices are going to go up or fall."

(Writing by John Chalmers; Editing by Robert Birsel)
Story from REUTERS NEWS