The tank is almost gone; the bund is now a concrete road. Water hyacinth rules the water surface. Tile-roofed houses stand in clumps, all the way up to the centre of the tank. It's impossible to walk by the water's edge without covering one's nose. This is Valankulam today. The tank, said to be one of the most copious tanks fed by the Noyyal in its time, could break the heart of the Kongu Chola king who built it around the 8th century, had he been alive today.
Spread across 160 acres, Valankulam is among the eight tanks in the city under the control of the Corporation. It is located along the Sungam by-pass road. Years before, the tank supplied sparkling water to agricultural fields that thrived around it. Over the years, as the fields gave way to buildings, the tank shrank in size. Buildings elbowed it from all corners; roads cut across it. It shrank until its waters turned brown and its fish petered away. Its native vegetation was overtaken by alien species.
A sad tale
The story of Valankulam is distressing. Can anything be done at all to revive it? Not until the water is treated, says Vanitha Mohan, managing trustee, Siruthuli, a public initiative to conserve water resources. “We cleared the water hyacinth in the tank in 2006,” she says. But the plants reappeared. “As long as there is sewage in the water, you cannot arrest the growth of water hyacinth. We tried everything possible. The plant is a water guzzler — 90 per cent of it is water,” says Ms. Mohan. “It does not give a chance for water to stay in the tank.” What with all the raw sewage entering the tank from buildings around it, the quality of groundwater is taking a beating, she adds.
Siruthuli is now considering a herbal solution for eradicating water hyacinth. If the weed problem is resolved, Siruthuli plans to beautify the tank with a bird park, boating zone and walker's path. “It would be beautiful to sit there and watch the world go by,” says Ms. Mohan. She also suggests experimenting with decentralised water treatment systems for the tanks.
R. Raveendran, Secretary of Residents Awareness Association of Coimbatore, elaborates on this.
“The sewage treatment plant in Ukkadam is functioning to only 30-40 per cent of its capacity.” The waters of Valankulam can be treated by being routed to the plant, he adds. Also, the medical fluids that enter the tank from the Government Hospital can first be passed through a water treatment plant, suggests Raveendran.
Yet another threat to the tank is illegal dumping of building debris along the bund by construction companies. Years of unchecked dumping have made certain areas flat. “People from nearby buildings are using these areas to park their vehicles,” says Raveendran.
The debris, in fact is killing the tank in broad daylight. Says Raveendran, “We've handed over several trucks involved in the act to the authorities. But sadly, they were let off after a minimal fine of Rs.250 to 500. If there are stricter laws, the illegal activity can be curbed.” Raveendran also calls for installing cameras in specific locations.
The state of the city's wetlands has spurred several citizens to action, including K. Mohan Raj and M. Gunasekaran of Save Coimbatore Wetlands, a consortium of environmental enthusiasts. “Traditionally, people depended on the tank, rain or shine. When it was full, it supported agriculture,” says Gunasekaran. “When it was dry, people cultivated greens and cucumber in the riverbed, something that is a near impossibility now, given the water quality,”
According to a report by Action for Food Production (a socio-technical NGO) based on its study on the city's tanks, “The Government has allotted 14.00 acres to Tamilnadu State Transport Corporation (TNSTC), 2.384 acres to Tamilnadu electricity board and 6.28 acres is proposed for allotment for Southern railways.” How much more can the tank withstand? Fluids from a hospital, sewage, industrial effluents, encroachments…
“The only way to save the tank,” says Mohan Raj, “is by erecting a fence around it.” He rues that the arrival of four bus depots, a bus stand and a sub-station in the area have made things worse. “I used to fish in Valankulam with friends in early 1980s,” says the 38-year-old. “We threw in pori (puffed rice) and caught tiny guppies using a cloth. The fish are not there anymore.”
