A few hours of rain, and many parts of Bengaluru are flooded yet again -- despite the expensive work done to refurbish stormwater drains and improve water drainage. Yelahanka and Mahadevapura, two opposite regions of the city where the once-extensive lake networks still survive, seem to be the worst-affected. In Kendriya Vihar apartments in Yelahanka, where former President A P J Abdul Kalam once lived, fish entered the basement. In many other apartments and homes in these areas, land prices have begun to fall, as frustrated residents facing flooding year after year have begun to move out.
An expensive project to build sluice gates on lakes to control flooding was supposed to have been initiated last year, after the heavy flooding of 2022, but has seen little progress so far. Some Rs 35 crore was allocated for the project, which was supposed to be implemented in 102 lakes across the city. Such sluice gates have been installed in a few locations, such as Rachenahalli lake, helping to mitigate flooding in these areas. But other nearby locations such as Manyata Tech Park, right next to Rachenahalli lake, were choked with water last week because of the rainfall, due to blockage and diversion of the kaluves and other channels that impeded drainage. A retaining wall collapsed in the Tech Park. In Whitefield, similarly, Phoenix Mall had several feet of water, making it difficult for customers to enter or leave.
This is the current state of Bengaluru, the 21st century IT capital of India. What does its future look like? Bleak, at this point. Each year, the city witnesses heavy rains, and loss of property, closure of schools and colleges, economic loss, and loss of life, too, in some very tragic cases. Then, in summer, the city experiences unbearable heat, with residents succumbing to heat stroke and other illnesses. After that comes the drought -- when borewells run dry and the newspapers are full of doomsday reports that Bengaluru is becoming another Cape Town, and day zero -- when the city will run out of water completely -- looms.
The consequences -- floods, heat waves, drought -- may seem disparate, but they are linked. And the causes are the same. Ill-planned urbanisation, compounded by climate change -- and a city whose planners continue to favour built infrastructure over ecological infrastructure, unwilling to understand the urgency and criticality of the scenario in which Bengaluru finds itself. Wetlands, which are essential to feed the lakes of Bengaluru with water during the drought, and to absorb excess floodwater in the monsoon, have been systematically destroyed across the city. The large wetlands that once connected Agara and Bellandur lakes, and Bellandur with Varthur, have been taken over by buildings, and similarly, the vast spaces in North Bengaluru that once connected Hebbal lake with Jakkur lake, Rachenahalli, Nagavara and other nearby lakes have vanished, shrinking year by year, until they are now mere slivers.
The trees of Bengaluru have been decimated in the hundreds of thousands. Just one new project, the suburban rail, will destroy over 32,000 trees in the next year. Meanwhile, the Metro expansion, along with other road-widening and flyover/underpass projects, will lead to the loss of many more thousands of trees. And the Bannerghatta National Park, a jewel in Bengaluru’s crown, will be hit badly when a six-lane elevated corridor cuts through it, like a pair of scissors tearing through a fragile, irreplaceable heirloom cloth. Easy to tear, impossible to repair.
Climate change is already here, and is going to get much worse. The flooding we see is just a fraction of what we can expect in the future. When will the city’s ecological infrastructure get the prominence it deserves?