At the premiere of My Otter Diary, a documentary by acclaimed filmmaker Sugandhi Gadadhar and her producer-husband Rana Belur, the audience witnessed the deep connection between otters and the river Kaveri. Sugandhi likens otters to tigers in forests — apex predators that maintain ecological balance. The film, shot over five years, offered an intimate portrait of Kaveri, a river revered by Kodavas and central to Karnataka’s identity.
This connection with water may explain why Bengalureans are so emotionally tied to their lakes. Civic campaigns often flounder in the city, but lake restoration and street dog welfare always garner passionate support. Architect Naresh Narasimhan offers a historical perspective: unlike other global cities built around rivers, Bengaluru emerged on a plateau, founded at trade route intersections. Its old quarters (Pete) were surrounded by forts (Kote), gardens (Thotta), and artificial lakes (Kere) — a development pattern that shaped the city’s identity.
Civic legend Kempe Gowda’s mother reportedly advised, “Keregalum kattu, maragalum nadu” — “Build lakes, plant trees.” The city once had over 1,000 lakes; now, fewer than 80 remain under BBMP’s care.
Yet, hope isn’t lost. Citizens like Anand Malligavad — known as the “Lakeman of India” — and RWAs are reviving lakes like Kyalasanahalli Kere. Academics like Meera Baindur and Rohan D’Souza argue that a kere is not just a water body but a cultural and ecological system — part of Kannada imagination itself.
To truly save our lakes, people must reconnect with them as living ecosystems, not just scenic jogging spots.