Having cycled six kilometres from Yelahanka, we finally arrived at the main entrance of Doddabommasandra lake squeezing through two buses moving in opposite directions amidst chaotic traffic. The noisy traffic appeared to be turning a blind eye to this vast landmass which once upon a time was brimming with water. Kinshuk and I parked our bicycles opposite to a huge gate where an old man started walking towards us from the opposite side. Slightly reluctant to let us in, he told us there is nothing much to see here except for lots of snakes which have gathered inside the bushes.
Redappa, a native to a nearby neighbourhood of Kodigehalli and in his 70’s has been working here towards cleaning up the lake over the past two years. “Either come back tomorrow at ten in the morning or you could always use the unofficial entrance”, says Redappa, pointing towards the direction of the unofficial entrance and he casually headed back to his place.
‘Doddabommasandra lake’, as it is commonly referred to, was artificially created for irrigation around 200 years ago. Located close to Yelahanka, Doddabommasandra always used to fill up during the rainy season until 15 years back. Doddabommasandra is partitioned into two tanks separated by a narrow ridge on which one gets to walk and sometimes even used by two wheelers. The bigger tank, known as the ‘Doddabommasandra tank’, was frequently used for fishing, bathing cattle and sometimes washing clothes. The smaller one is called the ‘Kodigehalli tank’, due to its closeness to Kodigehalli was used for irrigation, mainly paddy. Around these two tanks were agricultural fields blooming with paddy, ragi, maize and various other varieties of fodder crops. Reduction of water in this lake is not unusual when one looks at many other lakes across Bangalore over the past half a century. However the blame is commonly attributed to increasing real estate developments around the lake over the past two decades sucking up the ground water at an accelerated rate there by reducing the water table. Some also cite the release of sewage water into the lake and say it is natural due to reduced rainfall. There are a few acacia trees at different ends of the lake. Acacia, non-native to India is known to suck a lot of ground water.
An hour before the sun set, we walked through thick thorny bushes down into the heart of the Doddabommasandra tank. Cars, buildings and sounds of the traffic are prominent almost throughout the periphery of the lake. At a closer distance we could see cattle on their way back after another day’s graze. Right in front of us were five young kids, two of them in their teens and the rest, a little younger. Positioning themselves in an irregular circle, they were passing around a football to each other. ‘One touch football’ is something you won’t miss in the suburbs of any country. Having found a fertile green spot and too engrossed in their sport, they were either not interested in the lake or unborn during the lake’s filled up days. One of them tells us, “I prefer the tank if it isn’t filling up, it disrupts sport and we’d have to go back to play in our crowded neighbourhood”.
Amidst a herd of mooing cattle, herding seven of his cows and three of his buffalos, we encountered Mr Ashok. A keen enthusiast of the lake, having lived in Kodigehalli since childhood Mr Ashok was more than pleased to share his story. “Earlier the lake was full and really clean, I would see a lot of birds coming here, but now we hope water doesn’t fall here as mosquitoes swarm everywhere like the buzzing of bees”. He showed us the drain dug around the periphery of the lake to prevent sewage water from seeping in and let us know how ineffective it was. We were taken aback on hearing about the times when he cultivated paddy like everyone else in Kodigehalli and his land was soon engulfed by encroaching houses, this being a part and parcel of any developing city. Not showing too many emotions on these issues, Mr Ashok now takes care of his cattle and supplies milk to the dairy. Hearing those words, we headed back late in the evening, tired with our stomachs growling and promised him to be back and meet him tomorrow.
The next warm, sunny morning we arrived back into Doddabommasandra tank and we met our first woman so far, Gowramma, a middle aged woman from the village of Konugulu close to Mysore. Married off at a young age of twenty, she was forced to move from her village to Malleswaram soon after her husband found a job at a mill. A decade ago, they purchased land near Doddabommasandra as it was cheap although cut off from the city. Gowramma owns 3 buffalos and grazes them now in the tank. Buffalos are strictly under control, made to graze close to the triple layered fence consisting of barbed wires and not to venture too far away. Along with the 3 of hers we notice a few more buffalos under her control. “Everyone here takes turn grazing each other’s buffalos. What if one day I fall ill? Who will take care of them?” On hearing this, we notice a man at a distance coming down towards the tank and towards Gowramma. Engaging in a brief conversation, Gowramma headed back home and was taken over by Balreddy.
A native of Nellore, Balreddy moved here a year back to live with his brother. At home, Balreddy receives water from the municipality. However, he has to pay a bribe of Rs50 – Rs100 every month. “That’s how it is these days; whatever you do you need to pay a bribe” says Balreddy. Soon he began comparing this lake to the one at home. “At home the lake fills up with rainwater, here its sewage water”, says Balreddy in his broken Kannada which he began learning only a year ago. As we walk down with him and his cattle, we suddenly notice how far away we’ve walked from our bicycles and with worrying prospects of our bicycles being stolen, we head back.
Upon cycling into a nearby neighbourhood, we came across ‘Anu store’. Having heard a lot about this store as being the first ever store to be established when the neighbourhood was formed; we decided to meet the people of the store. Kinshuk initially bought a soft drink to satisfy and quench his everlasting thirst. As friendly as they can get, the son of the store owner, 18 year old Arjun began narrating a story, “You know, at one point of time, water from the lake would flood all the way into the ground floor of our store. If you dig under the ground, water would seep in”. We listened to this as we stood gazing intensely at new buildings and a vast greenish-brown patch of land. As we’re interrupted by a few customers to this tiny store, we meet Arjun’s mother. Before she began her story, Arjun interrupts, “At one point of time Daddy went fishing inside the lake and when he got back, his cycle was stolen. You know, we used to get a lot of wild boars and to get rid of them we had to give police complaints.” After letting them know that we’ll come back another day to listen to other stories, I grabbed a soft drink and we headed deeper into the colony.
In an attempt to find older residents of this colony adjacent to this lake, we came across a temple. An early observation of the architecture of this structure indicated to me that this temple was fairly new. In order to give it a shot, we went into the courtyard where we noticed a back gate with old houses nearby. Unfortunately most of the house owners had given these houses as rent as it was no longer profitable to live here and the residents in these house were fairly knew and had very little to do with the lake. Heading back to the temple, people were offering prayers and consuming prasadas. When we tried to go inside and speak to the priest, an old man told us the priest is slightly busy and directed us to a store across the temple. “Basavaraju store, this was the first ever store to be established in this neighbourhood”; says the old man. ‘First ever store’, didn’t these words sounded familiar!
As we stood in front of the store, we encountered a middle aged woman. She pointed her finger towards a vacant house nearby, and said “We both were the first ones here. At that time, this whole area was like a forest, it was scary to move around.” Soon, she told us about the partition created between the two tanks and we decided to check it out.
On the way to the partition of land dividing the two tanks, we could see heaps of garbage dumped on the periphery of the Doddabommasandra tank and in the backdrop was the Hebbal towers, resembling the Petronas towers of Kuala Lumpur. It seemed indicative to us about the toll development can take. As we cycled our way to the partition, at the entrance was Jagadish. Seated on the ground under a tree with stacks of fodder, a moped and three young men around him, one could see the Doddabommasandra tank to his left and Kodigehalli tank to his right. In the Kodigehalli tank were people cutting fodder for their cows. At the end of the Kodigehalli tank in the distance one can see a blurred railway track. “It is better to grow fodder and feed cows at home rather than grazing, they give good milk”, says Jagadish. Someone in the tank immediately calls Jagadish and he runs down to cut more fodder.
We headed to Kodigehalli, a fast developing neighbourhood with 4-5 storied buildings springing up everywhere on ruins of agricultural lands. Upon trying to see if we can find any agricultural activity, we find one small square piece of land blooming with maize. The land was surrounded by buildings springing up from all sides. Here we met Revanna, whose generation has been farming for the past three generations. An active swimmer, memories of the time he used to swim still remain strong as he says, “I used to swim here even when my father said no, I remember my friend drowned here one day and I still got back to swimming without any fear”. He also says, “times have changed now and you have to swim with the change”, as he also runs a real estate business standing next to one of the open well which supplied water 15 years ago. “This waster is waste, we only use it for construction”, continues Revanna as the town has entirely shifted to bore wells.
How long would these bore wells last? And what would they do if the bore wells dry up? No one here is prepared to answer these questions. Though memories remain strong, the lake is generally ignored and efforts to build a public park here similar to Sankey tank have remained only on paper and in rumours. The lake however tells us a strong story, one similar to the other hundreds of lakes in Bangalore.
Memories always remain scattered, scattered at the back of people’s minds. Reviving them brings about change and change could either be illusive or it could bring progress, which is still illusive.
