On April 19, two years after accumulating froth inexplicably caught fire at the Bellandur lake, the largest in the city, the National Green Tribunal — in perhaps its strictest order yet — pulled up Bengaluru’s governing bodies.
It ordered the shutdown of industries nearby, while setting a strict deadline — a month — to de-weed and de-silt and to ensure the stoppage of nearly 500 million litres of sewage that flow daily into the 700-acre lake.
Plans that were on paper for several years have suddenly galvanised into action: 13 of 97 industries in the vicinity have been closed, 159 apartments are under the scanner.
Why did NGT intervene?
The severely-polluted lake, where froth at its outlets often overflows into neighbouring roads, had spurred local NGOs to approach the green tribunal against what they termed “government inaction” to stem the decline of the lake.
The green tribunal’s order is the latest in a series of strictures handed down over the years to protect the city’s lakes. In 2015, it fined two builders ₹150 crore for constructing on the wetlands of the Bellandur lake. In 2016, it ruled that the buffer zone around all lakes should be 75 metres from the 30 metres currently. Similarly, a no-build zone of 50 metres was set around storm water drains to protect the flow of rainwater into tanks.
With over 40 sq. km. of lakes in the city and 800 km of primary and secondary drains, the NGT had sent the real estate sector into a tailspin.
Has it worked?
While a debate rages whether these orders are practical, environmentalists admit that the NGT had to step in to break through official apathy. Knee-jerk reactions of erecting meshes to stop the overflow of froth or sprinklers to suppress foam were no longer enough. An action plan to revive the lake was needed, the NGT said.
Though the Bellandur lake has been seen frothing, due to the churning of detergents in flowing sewage, sporadically for over two decades, it was in May 2015 that Bellandur and the 400-acre Varthur lake downstream were catapulted to national and international media attention. On one Saturday morning, white froth that had accumulated at its weir burst into flames. While froth has now become a near-permanent feature for those living around the lakes, this February 17, thick smoke spewed from the middle of the lake. Pollution in Bellandur is a symbol of all that is wrong in Bengaluru’s urbanisation drive.
Why is expansion ill-planned?
In a city built around tanks and lakes, Bellandur once formed the backbone of its agrarian economy. A number of lakes in the city’s eastern part feed Bellandur, before joining the Pinakini riverine system that ultimately joins the Cauvery.
If these lakes had once supplied water to the city’s outskirts, rapid expansion of Bengaluru saw drastic replacement of water with sewage.
Up to 40% of the lake’s catchment area falls in the city, and this is reflected in the amount of raw sewage flowing into it. At least 480 million litres of sewage flow daily into Bellandur from four main inlets, with a further 60 MLD joining this flow at the Varthur lake. One of the city’s largest tech hubs is around the lake, but the area is not connected to the underground drainage system. As a result, sewage flows directly into the lake.
Can the lake be saved?
While judicial action might help revive the lake, Bellandur is not isolated in its troubles. Over the years, frothing has been reported in outlets of at least four other lakes, while Arkavathy river, which carries with it north Bengaluru’s sewage, has started to spout foam too. The question is: does Bengaluru need a flurry of legal cases to save the city’s waterbodies, or will the Bellandur experience prod policymakers to take action?
Mohit M. Rao
