Water Crisis: Everyone cries politics, but no one wants to be named

Winter is long gone, and whatever we can call 'spring' in this city has also passed, and we see the first sign that tells us summer has begun: water tankers.

Citizens in many parts of the city suffer from an insufficient supply of water to their areas and are desperate for these tankers.

While the BWSSB order mandates that water should be supplied every alternate day, the reality is far from this.

One of the areas that do not receive the necessary amount of water in the city is the Saibaba temple road in Doddanekundi. What strikes one about this locality is that the Doddanekundi lake is right next to it, yet the residents of this locality suffer greatly.

Here the residents get Cauvery water only once a week. Usually released on Friday or Saturday, the flow of water, which is "like a thread", lasts a couple of hours before stopping.

"It's all politics! There's a man who comes here to turn on the tap. One day I asked him why our area gets so little water. He replied that the other areas don't get more water, that it's the same everywhere. But I know that there are big apartments which get enough Cauvery water," one resident, who did not want to be named, said.

The water needs of the area were earlier satisfied by borewells, but the excess of borewells that have sprung up here resulted in no one getting enough water.

"Now to get water, the borewells must be dug deeper. But digging deeper means more money and not everyone in this area has that sort of money," Sandeep, who works at HAL, said.

Rains, elections, summer

The residents of the area have different hopes and expectations about how the summer will turn out to be. "It's going to rain now," one resident said, "things will hopefully get better". Others are not as optimistic.

"One thing that may make a difference is elections. They won't release water when we need it, they may give it to the others, but since they will need our votes soon, they will release water to show that they are doing something," a source, who claimed to know what goes on behind the scenes, said.

Sandeep's wife Sunitha, however, said, "There is no water. When there is no water, where will the politicians get it from?" Another resident, after repeated assurances of anonymity, said, "Cauvery water isn't scarce for. Those who pay money can get the water they want."

While the residents of the area, most of them from humble backgrounds, are waiting for someone to listen to them about their woes and come out to speak, few are ready to be named. They fear that if they are named, the situation can only get worse.

"If I name myself, my son will shout at me. He will ask why when no one gets into trouble with those people, why we should?" one resident said, even as she hid her face in the dark fearing she would be photographed.

Tankers to the rescue

Given the dire situation, tankers are all these people have to bank on, which charge them Rs 500 for every 5,000 litres. While the independent houses and smaller apartments get tankers two or three times a week, the bigger apartments may order two or three tankers in a single day.

The prices are likely to go up as summer reaches its zenith.

With the Doddanekundi lake providing little relief, the tankers in the areas depend on borewells from other areas. The tanker drivers who live here do not see any threat to their business by Cauvery water, as they fork out the same amount that everyone else does.

The drivers perhaps understand the crisis the best as they supply water both to their own localities and many affluent localities.

They notice that the upper middle class, even during the crisis, use water for much more than the necessities.

"There is wastage of water. In one apartment complex I go to, pools have to be refilled frequently," one driver said, referring to the fact that schools are shut and kids are mostly at home.