Oh, how our languid lifestyle changed in the city, 

A city of lakes,

A city of gardens,

A pensioner’s paradise,

Oh Bangalore, where art thou?

Our memories are fading,

Oh, there was once a lake 

Now a bus stop or is it a stadium

Wait, what more is there?

Each lake has a new address

What then does one make of our natural streams and drains?

How does one keep up with the frenetic pace?

Oh, this legacy of our past is cruel

Weighing down on us heavily

They say, it’s the rains, when it makes an appearance,

That unleashes a fury,

Why lament on the disappearance of what used to be 

They say, nostalgia is for the privileged,

Look at the opportunities

They say, the legacy of the past does nothing 

But weighs one down,

Our identity, cannot be threatened by the past,

They say, look at the present. 

Looking at the present, my friend,

It’s the burden of nostalgia, 

That’s makes one realise, 

What our city used to be,

The rain havoc is a reminder

And a wake up call 

That nature is reclaiming the valleys that existed

How long can we unsee 

These lopsided developments

And our tampering of nature’s course

It’s time to recollect stories

Of what our lake and storm water drains used to be

It’s time to respect 

It’s time to take responsibility

Of what our lake and storm water drains used to be…

– Pinky Chandran, August 2022