Water: colorless, odorless but combustible

The seasonal problem of water shortage raises its ugly head again. Governments and authorities concerned caught napping yet again. Law and order on either side of the issue made a mockery of and engineered and orchestrated violence allowed to turn daily lives of people upside down. Idiots and their idiocy, again on both sides, magnified by an enthusiastic media. Insecure chauvinists turning violent, police forces turning a blind eye, colluding politicians fanning the fire and Chief Ministers that trade letters as cities burn. Same story, same rhetoric, only a different year. And the farmer – the direct worst-hit victim – whose image has been coopted by the hooligans, has been reduced to a mute spectator.

The sad truth is that the river, water shortage, sharing plans are mere excuses. The violence has two drivers not connected to water. One is of course politics. In the world of politicians, the problem life cycle is only a straight line that slowly twists itself into a pretzel. Given that elections in Karnataka are due next year, they are scrambling to milk any vote-ensuring topic dry. Congress, or what remains of it, would naturally want to make the right noises for they know that this is their last chance to retain power. Allowing their foot soldiers the opportunity to settle scores and personal vendetta is a nice pre-season gift to galvanize the cadres. For the BJP, it is electoral compulsions too. Karnataka is the only foothold in the non-Hindi speaking belt and they would naturally prefer to be perceived as pro-Karnataka rather than as sensible. Even a Narendra Modi going on a door-to-door campaign won’t fetch them a single seat in the *.MK world of Tamil Nadu politics and they know it too well. The Hon’ble Prime Minister – and I’m still his fan – will do nothing more than pay lip service and give the usual and predictable sound bytes.

The second reason is that this is an opportunity for the chauvinistic ‘Digas to give vent to pent up deep seated emotional frustrations and insecurities. The link between what has happened/is happening and the release of water is only tenuous at best. The average, homegrown hooligan (no way connected to agriculture, mind you) in Bangalore busy setting buses on fire or thrashing Tamils for perceived slights can barely tell tmc from cusecs or who is in the CWDT. Bangalore, thanks to the I.T storm, has been yanked away from under the feet of the “natives”. The initial real estate boom and the infrastructure dreams have long gone bad. What started off with all the trappings of a pleasant honeymoon has soured into a bad orgy. At the heart of the matter, they are upset at having been “usurped” from their Kannada bhoomi by the marauding hordes of laptop bearing prospectors that are indifferent to local sensibilities. Time then to dust off Kannada Mata, raise the “Kaveri belongs to Karnataka” slogans, wave the flags of no-name Vedikes and two-bit thugs getting their fifteen minutes of time in the spotlight. If only forcing Accenture staff out of their offices could magically produce rain or reverse Supreme Court pronouncements!

Any number of tribunals can be set up and many expert groups be put in place. Governments on either side can come and go and verdicts can be issued and re-issued by the highest courts of the land. But make no mistake, there will be no solution in my lifetime or yours. The reasons behind this problem are many – growing demand, poor planning, woeful execution of those plans, deforestation and, of course, topped by human greed. Thus developing an amicable solution lies in that space between possibility and dreams. Reorganizing the states (anyone remember C Rajagopalachari?) can be a way forward but anyone suggesting that today will be laughed out. And a national policy on sharing natural resources remains nothing more than a topic for passionate debate. But hey, if noses can be upped at Supreme Court rulings, a national policy will not be worth the paper it is written on.

There is also a great political risk involved in solving this (or any) problem. Any solution could possibly limit otherwise useful political careers. And there are smart stakeholders on either side with a lot riding on keeping this issue festering.  In other words, our grand kids can look forward to unexpected days of school closure.

That leaves you and me - the "common men" - to make sure that we are responsible on social media, use water wisely (rains or no rains) and caste that vote without in the next elections. 

In the meantime, the river trickles sedately, perhaps secretly laughing at the foolishness being perpetrated in its name. And the farmers - Kannada and Tamil - sit silently staring at the skies. Sorrow, their common language.