An uneasy calm has settled in Sadashivnagar, the residential area in Bengaluru where I live. Policemen patrol uncharacteristically quiet streets. Bengaluru’s otherwise thriving markets are deserted; the parks are empty and pubs, restaurants and shops have drawn their shutters. On a Monday afternoon, the city was taken hostage by vandals, lumpens and thugs. They did the impossible; they brought a Ganesh Chaturthi-celebrating Bengaluru to its knees.
Why? The Supreme Court decreed that Karnataka release water from the Cauvery to Tamil Nadu, less than what was decided earlier, for a longer period of time. The verdict invited the ire of pro-Kannada outfits, who expressed their displeasure by burning buses, vandalising restaurants and beating people up.
The Cauvery Dispute is an Excuse for Violent Xenophobia
Historically, the Cauvery water sharing arrangement is mired in conflict. There are consequences- lives and livelihoods at stake even- regardless of whether or not Karnataka agrees to release water to Tamil Nadu. Recently, however, the Cauvery dispute has become an occasion for political posturing and violent xenophobia.
Karnataka’s regional right-wing organisations have made it their business to avenge the ‘dishonour’ being done to them by the Tamils. How dare they be asked to share water with the dirty, infiltrating Tamils? These, by the way, are the very same Tamils who have made Bengaluru their home centuries ago and have contributed significantly towards making the city what it is today.
On any other day, the Kannadigas and Tamils work in the same offices, share food and speak each other’s language. Once every year, however, when the water-sharing arrangement becomes an issue, the two communities become sworn enemies. The city is overrun by thugs who are joyful for the opportunity to make the city miserable.
Thugs, We Want Our City Back
In the 16 years that I’ve spent here, I’ve grown to love the city and its peculiarities. Bengaluru embraced me and my rootlessness; it rarely mattered that for the longest time, I couldn’t speak Kannada. The city and its people found a language in which to address me. Today, this is my city; my home.
This isn’t the first time the city’s intolerant, frustrated underbelly has surfaced. It’s happened multiple times before and the city knows what precautions to take. The city’s glitzy malls are shrouded in ugly, comical nets to dissuade hoodlums from pelting stones. Shops are shuttered and offices have sent employees home. Actor Rajkumar’s kidnapping, his death and previous Cauvery clashes have prepared the city.
Today, I am ashamed at what has become of my city. I am saddened that a city as vibrant, inclusive and laid-back as this has allowed gangs such as these to flourish and take over the streets. Thugs, lumpens and vandals, I think I prefer the city’s terrible traffic to this eerie calm. Are you proud of what you have achieved? Congratulations; people are afraid to leave their homes.
If you have had your day in the spotlight, I recommend very strongly that you crawl back into your holes and stay there. You are lousy, despicable representatives of Bengaluru and we want our city back, thank you very much.
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