Hyderabad’s so-called guardians of the environment seem to have developed an odd obsession. If it’s a lake, they’ll fight tooth and nail to save it. But if it’s a historic rock formation, a green lung space, or an open stretch of land vital for the city’s air quality, then it’s fair game for ‘development’.
The latest casualty in this mad rush for concrete is the 400-acre patch at Kancha Gachibowli, a rare surviving expanse of land in an increasingly suffocating city. The state government, which insists it owns the land, is eager to see it ‘developed’, a euphemism for selling it off to the highest bidder. But this land is more than just real estate – it is a crucial buffer in a metropolis drowning in unchecked urbanisation.
Selective protection of the environment
The Telangana government, in all its wisdom, has declared that no lakes exist on the land. That’s an interesting defence, because nowhere in the world has environmental conservation been limited to just lakes. What about rock formations, green corridors, and open spaces? If the government can claim ownership over this land, does that mean it also owns the responsibility to protect it? Not.
The University of Hyderabad, which has long used the area as a natural extension of its eco-friendly campus, has been summarily told it has no claim to the land. It has also been suggested that protesting students have been misled – presumably by sinister forces who believe clean air and rock formations are worth preserving. The government, on the other hand, is merely looking out for the greater good, as it prepares to auction off the land for some vague ‘development’ that no one asked for.
City planners’ selective outrage
What’s striking is how quickly the administration springs into action when a lake is under threat. Buffalo Lake and Peacock Lake in Gachibowli, we are assured, are safe. Master plans, environmental management plans, and bureaucratic statements will be wheeled out to prove just how committed the government is to ‘preserving Hyderabad’s water bodies’. But what about Hyderabad’s other vital natural assets?
Hyderabad’s heritage is not just Charminar and Golconda Fort. It is also its unique rock formations, its rapidly vanishing green spaces, and the delicate balance between history and progress. The city’s identity is tied to its landscape, but the government’s version of conservation conveniently ignores this.
Development or land grab?
The entire affair reeks of a land grab disguised as progress. This is not the first time land in and around Hyderabad has mysteriously changed hands in the name of ‘development’. It won’t be the last. But let’s not pretend that this is about urban planning. If it were, we wouldn’t be watching Hyderabad’s natural spaces disappear one by one, with the government’s full approval.
So here’s a question for Telangana’s leadership: Does conservation only apply when there’s water involved? Or will the city’s last few breathing spaces also get a fair chance at survival? Because at this rate, Hyderabad’s future will be a suffocating jungle of concrete, and all the lakes in the world won’t be enough to save it.
