Hyderabad’s water worries should serve as a wake-up call for every government that has governed Telangana. A metropolis aspiring to compete with Mumbai, Chennai and Kolkata cannot afford to treat drinking water as a problem to be addressed only when reservoirs run low and residents begin worrying about their taps running dry. The immediate alarm over reservoirs allegedly running dry by November-end may have been officially confirmed by the Hyderabad Metropolitan Water Supply and Sewerage Board (HMWSSB), but that should not distract attention from the underlying challenge. Reports indicate that the city’s Core Urban Region Economy (CURE), comprising the Greater Hyderabad Municipal Corporation (GHMC) and the adjoining Cyberabad and Malkajgiri municipal corporations, requires approximately 735 million gallons per day (MGD) against a supply of around 585 MGD—a deficit of about 150 MGD. That is a substantial shortfall for a city whose population and geographical footprint have expanded phenomenally over the past 15 years. The numbers tell their own story. GHMC, formed in 2007 by amalgamating the erstwhile Municipal Corporation of Hyderabad with 12 surrounding municipalities, initially covered approximately 625 sq km. The 2011 Census recorded a population of roughly 13.4 million in GHMC, while other official urban estimates placed the wider metropolitan population much higher. Subsequent demographic assessments recorded around 14 million people across an expanded 688-sq-km GHMC area. Today, the wider CURE is estimated to serve approximately 1.3 crore people across a vastly enlarged urban jurisdiction. This phenomenal growth has brought sprawling residential colonies, IT corridors, commercial establishments, industries and an unrelenting influx of people seeking employment and better opportunities. Yet, where is the corresponding long-term water plan? Was the expansion of Greater Hyderabad, followed by the incorporation of additional peripheral urban areas into the wider municipal framework, driven by a comprehensive assessment of water availability, drainage, transport and other essential civic infrastructure? Or did the desire to enlarge Hyderabad’s metropolitan profile take precedence over the more mundane but essential task of ensuring that every new settlement had dependable drinking water? There is nothing wrong with a city growing. The blunder lies in allowing its boundaries, real estate and population to grow faster than the infrastructure needed to sustain them.
Hyderabad once depended heavily on its traditional reservoirs, including Osman Sagar and Himayat Sagar. As demand increased, successive governments invested in bringing water from the Krishna and Godavari river systems, including the Krishna supply through the Nagarjuna Sagar-Akkampally system and the Godavari supply through Yellampalli. These investments were necessary and deserve recognition. The city could not have sustained its subsequent growth by depending on its traditional reservoirs alone. But tapping distant rivers is not a substitute for sustainable urban planning. Transmission infrastructure costs money, pumping requires energy, and river supplies remain vulnerable to seasonal conditions and competing demands. Recent reports have highlighted declining reservoir levels, deficient rainfall and falling groundwater levels. In September 2026, groundwater levels in Hyderabad’s core urban region were reported to be 6.85 metres lower than a year earlier, while rainfall up to September 30 was 26 per cent below normal. The lesson is obvious: water security cannot rest on the assumption that another project or another river will always come to the rescue. The other uncomfortable question concerns the politics of free water. Providing affordable drinking water to poorer households is a legitimate public responsibility. But does a welfare scheme become sustainable if it fails to adequately discourage waste, particularly when supplies are already under pressure? Water is not an inexhaustible commodity. Using treated drinking water to wash vehicles, hose down driveways or maintain gardens when less precious alternatives are available is irresponsible. Equally, leaking pipelines, overflowing overhead tanks and unchecked distribution losses cannot be dismissed as minor administrative shortcomings. A free-water scheme cannot automatically be blamed for a citywide shortage without evidence establishing the connection. Nevertheless, any government offering subsidised or free consumption must build in safeguards, monitor usage and ensure that assistance does not encourage avoidable wastage. The Congress government, like its predecessors, must answer whether its water policy matches Hyderabad’s actual requirements. If it inherited a stressed system, the responsibility was to address the deficit urgently—not merely appeal to citizens once the warning signs became impossible to ignore. The political temptation to showcase Hyderabad as a giant metropolitan region may have its attractions. But expanding civic boundaries is not the same as building a world-class city. Mumbai, Chennai and Kolkata cannot be emulated by geographical enlargement alone; their challenges should instead remind Hyderabad’s planners of the enormous cost of inadequate infrastructure. The government must publish transparent reservoir data, establish realistic demand projections, accelerate essential supply projects, repair distribution losses, protect catchment areas and enforce rainwater harvesting. It must also explain how the 150-MGD gap will be bridged and how future growth will be supported. Citizens, too, must use water responsibly. But conservation by households cannot absolve governments of their duty to plan. Hyderabad does not need panic-inducing rumours. It needs facts, foresight and accountability. A city that can attract global investment must also be able to guarantee its residents something more fundamental than grand promises: a reliable supply of drinking water.
