Ariza | Hyderabad | 11 July 2011, 12:17am
If ever written, an obituary of Hyderabad will have one entire chapter dedicated to the loss of its lakes.
No one knows if it was a deliberate strategy, but by the time the kingdom of the last Nizam acceded to the Indian Union there were no less than 900 lakes in Hyderabad. They made perfect sense for a city built on a large plateau which must face the inconvenience of finding potable water in its rocky underground. Yes, they provide an access to drinking water and yes, they are a source of fresh fish in a land locked city, but most importantly they provided a relief to the eye. Like Mr. Melville said, there is magic in it.
Say you are in the country; in some high land of lakes. Take almost any path you please, and ten to one it carries you down in a dale, and leaves you there by a pool in the stream. There is magic in it.
- Hermann Melville from Moby Dick
I should know, because even years later I still remember that grey monsoon morning when a friend and I set out on a drive around the AOC centre. It was one of those mornings that only a Hyderabadi will know, the kind that comes after a long dry summer that makes your body crave cool air. Such days make you feel adventurous and as we drove around my friend noticed an un-laid (kuccha) road that seemed to go no-where. “Take it” she said “let’s explore!” and we drove inside past a service railway line and were just about to give up when right up in front of us was a large peepal tree, a small temple and a tiny lake. I think it was my atheist friend who said: “Thank God for the temple. It will ensure this lake never gets encroached!”
Sometime before 1573 Sultan Ibrahim Qutb Shah ordered digging to commence on an artificial lake. It was to serve the irrigation needs of his capital and would store drinking water brought from the Musi. The lake would be called, after the king, Ibrahim Sagar who entrusted the responsibility to his Son-in-law Hussain Shah Wali a direct descendant of the famous Gesu Deraz of Gulbarga. Spreading across 8 Sq Kms this lake would be the largest man-made lake in Asia. Hussain plunged into the work with dedication and watched over an army of workers dig out a ditch whose sheer size became legendary as hundreds of citizens came over in their caravan’s to watch. No wonder that by 1578 many nobles considered its completion a feat of singular importance and admired Hussain’s unwavering dedication. In deference to this popular opinion Sultan Ibrahim did something unthinkable of kings – he decided to name the lake Hussain Sagar.
Hence begins the life of one of Hyderabad’s oldest lakes. For over 400 years it crops regularly entwined with the history of the city, with its fate. For here on its banks the generals of Aurangzeb set camp during that fateful seizing of Hyderabad and here on the opposite side would be built a new city by yet another new conquering breed - Secunderabad. Hussain Sagar was here when 17 inches of rainfall inundated Hyderabad in September 1908, remembered in the history of the city simply as the “Great flood” and which prompted the damming of the Musi and construction of two other reservoirs: Osman Sagar and Himayat Sagar. Then in 1930 it stopped being a source of drinking water to the city and became what it still is – a recreational spot.
From 1948 on the story of Hussain Sagar is the story of every lake in Hyderabad. Now the new capital of a large new state, Hyderabad began to attract inevitable industrial attention and prosperity. Drainages crept underground and began to snake through the city carrying their waste into the docile waiting lakes – as the city looked the other way in that in typical Hyderabadi fashion. At one point about one million liters of industrial effluents flowed into Hussain Sagar every day. In 1989 divers blamed low visibility of the polluted lake for not finding the 72 foot large Buddha statue lying drowned in the waters of lake!
In 2000, a new city, a triplet to Hyderabad and Secunderabad cropped up with the unveiling of Cyber Towers. It was called Hi-tech City. Somewhere near this new city was a lake the locals called Durgam Cheruvu. Driving through an inaccessible road one summer morning in 2001 I was surprised by the size of the lake: large, serene and smiling at the summer sky it seemed everything Hussain Sagar was meant to be 400 years ago. Then came the rock blasting as Cyberabad carved itself out of the rock and Durgam Cheruvu became prime property. Now, I drive past this lake every-day, gone is the gleam in its water and shrunk by the incessant reclaiming of land underneath it nevertheless sits decked as an attraction. It reminds me of a bride who, knowing her new husband only sees her as an investment looks sad & lost in glorious bridal attire.Permalink | Comments (3) | Trackbacks (0)