Water for parched Bengaluru

Bengaluru first received piped water from Hessarghatta 125 years ago

The Ganesh Iyer Volute Siphon built around the 1920s was designed to prevent flooding. Credit: Aravind C

The picturesque water tower at Hessarghatta, Bengaluru. Credit: Aravind C

The entrance of the pumping station at Soladevanahalli. Credit: Aravind C

Picture a city of beautiful houses and markets with every house having a well and fountains gracing every square. A city with deep lakes, innumerable parks and gardens overflowing with trees and flowers.

This vision of paradise is one of the earliest descriptions of Bengaluru written during 1670 by Kavindra Parmanand in Shivabharath, an epic poem about Shivaji.

Particularly interesting is Parmanand’s characterisation of Bengaluru as a city of wells and lakes. And indeed, the maps dating back to the 19th century do show a city dotted with countless wells. Every large house had a well. There were also public wells in markets, chhatrams, parks and road intersections. For instance, there were public wells in the markets in Ulsoor and Shivajinagar, and at what we now call KR Circle and Hudson Circle.

As for lakes, or tanks as they were also known, some like Begur and Agara, were built over a millennium ago. Hundreds more were added through the following centuries. Historian B L Rice wrote in 1881 that “much ingenuity would now be required to find a suitable site for a new tank.”

Series of reservoirs

This was exactly what was done in the mid-1800s when the rapidly growing city began experiencing water stress. The then British administration built a series of reservoirs known as Millers’ Tanks. Later, the Sankey tank built by Colonel Richard Sankey was added to the city’s waterscape. But the city still thirsted.

To further augment the water supply, the government (and philanthropes) dug new wells and deepened existing ones. Later, as water scarcity persisted, watchmen were placed to guard some of these public wells to prevent overdrawing water. Yet, the city craved for water.

By the 1880s, both the Maharaja’s government and the administration of the Civil and Military Station (CMS) were desperately casting about for larger and more perennial sources of water. Several proposals suggested tapping nearby reservoirs including at Rachenahalli, Agaram and Hebbal among others. A scheme to build a reservoir on Nandi Hills and supply water from there through gravity flow was dismissed as being impractical.

Interestingly, in 1886, one plan proposed bringing water from the Cauvery and “it might be less costly to move Bangalore,” quipped an administrator.

Finally, in a memo written in 1892, Dewan Seshadri Iyer wrote exasperatedly that even after 30 years of discussions, Bengaluru still had a water problem. Since the city was at an elevation, it required modern machinery to lift water to it. When people trust their lives to engines in ships, when factories run every day on engines, “Why should not the water supply of a growing town be worked efficiently by machinery?” he argued.

Accordingly, the Mysore government adopted the Hessarghatta scheme. Called the Chamaraja Water Works, the project involved enlarging a 16th century reservoir on the River Arkavathy, 25 km away. An aqueduct carried water from Hessarghatta to Soladevanahalli from where steam engines pumped the water up to Chimney Hills. From there, it flowed by gravity to filters at Malleswaram and thence to other parts of the city.

The city first received piped water from Hessarghatta 125 years ago, making Bengaluru one of the early Indian cities to embrace technology to supply piped water.

Water heritage

Remarkably, much of the infrastructure related to this pioneering scheme can still be seen. The bund and the water tower which were built in 1894-95 still exist.

The Ganesh Iyer Volute Siphon here is an unusual structure. Probably built around the 1920s, it is named after its designer V Ganesh Iyer, Director of the then Hydraulics Research Station at Krishnarajasagar, and was designed to prevent flooding. Now that the Hessarghatta reservoir is often dry, this cement concrete siphon stands marooned, looking like avant-garde holiday cottages.

The brick and stone aqueduct to Soladevanahalli plays hide-and-seek along the road. A 250-metre stretch of it is clearly visible near the old Turbanahalli pumping station. Elsewhere, it has been incorporated into compound walls or else completely destroyed.

The pumping station at Soladevanahalli remains intact. Much of the original machinery, now non-functional, still remains inside the capacious premises.

The Hessarghatta scheme was a lifeline for a parched Bengaluru, but a short-lived one. Within 20 years, Bengaluru was once again suffering water shortages.

In 1936, the city looked to Thippagondanahalli, 35 km away, for succour. In the 1960s, water was brought to the city from the River Cauvery, 100 km away. Today, administrators are looking to the Yettinahole, 250 km away, to quench the city’s thirst.

(Meera Iyer is the author of ‘Discovering Bengaluru’ and the Convenor of INTACH Bengaluru Chapter)