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