Question of Cities

The Godavari does not disappear all at once—she withdraws quietly, slipping beneath layers of neglect until her absence is felt more than her presence is seen. The Godavari as a fragile ecosystem, shaped by surging pollution levels and reduced water flow, does not remain the same. Photo: Shilpa Dahake The Godavari River originates from the Brahmagiri mountains of the western ghats and plays a crucial role in Nashik’s sacred geography.

The Godavari is India’s second longest river after the Ganga. The river, which passes through five states – Maharashtra, Telangana, Andhra Pradesh, Chhattisgarh, and Odisha – and parts of Madhya Pradesh, Karnataka and Puducherry and sustains millions of people, has been central to their livelihoods, culture, and pilgrimage.

The Ramkund in Nashik is legendary, drawing people from far and wide. It is a sacred pool within the Godavari River, about 35 kilometers from the river’s origin at Trimbakeshwar. Located in Panchavati area, in the heart of the old Nashik city, the legend goes that Ramkund was where drops of nectar fell during the Samudra Manthan or the mythical churning of the ocean. My ancestral home of over 150 years is in the Ramkund area and I continue to live here.

This May, Nashik saw the water supply being shut down every Saturday. It was a rare situation for the city and has happened probably once in 20 years. Barely 20 percent water was left in the dams that supply water to the city. The delayed monsoon did not help. Last year, it had begun raining on May 10 and Nashik had received around 200 millimetres by the month end. This year, even by mid-June, there was hardly 23-25 millimetres of rain.

As plans are afoot to make Nashik ready for the grand Kumbh Mela, the ancient city has been undergoing changes and upgradation to accommodate crores of devotees. In May, Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis launched projects worth Rs 25,055 crore for the Kumbh Mela while declaring that Nashik will become a growth engine of development in the coming years.[1] The Godavari is at the heart of the Kumbh Mela with its holy bathing spots and legendary tanks like the Ramkund.

Panchvati, in ecology, is a sacred grove of five ficuses namely Bael, Amla, Ashoka, Banyan, and Peepal. In mythology, it was where the exiled trio of Lord Rama, Sita and Lakshman spent a few of their 14-year long exile and is marked by the Sita Gufa (cave). In the rapidly-urbanising Nashik city, Panchvati holds all this but is a bustling neighbourhood on the northern banks of Godavari River with narrow lanes, small shop fronts, and old-style homes with tiny wooden windows.

In times of extreme heat, people’s access to reliable and affordable water supply can make the critical difference between comfort and distress, sometimes even life and death.

On June 10, women of Sopore town in Jammu and Kashmir marched to the Jal Shakti department, demanding adequate drinking water. They travelled long distances simply to access water for daily needs.

Cover photo: A group of women collecting water from a fountain at dawn in Araku Valley, India. Credit: Ganta Srinivas/Pexels Ankita Dhar Karmakar, Multimedia Journalist and Social Media in-charge in Question of Cities, has reported and written at the intersection of gender, cities, and human rights, among other themes. Her work has been featured in several digital publications, national and international.

At the far north of Mumbai, in Borivali suburb, lies the informal settlement of Ganpat Patil Nagar. Here since 1998 and housing about 1,400 families, it received piped water only in 2021 when a few eligible ones got taps indoors. This was not the largesse of the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC) but the sheer doggedness of people filing applications from 2018 onwards at the local BMC office and pursuing their cause, after advocacy made them understand that they had the right to water.