Biju Dharmapalan
bijudharmapalan@gmail.com
Water has always been described as the elixir of life. A major chunk of the human body is water. Every civilisation rose on the banks of a river; every culture treated water as sacred; every religion taught reverence for this life-sustaining element. Yet, in a tragic irony of our times, the same water is increasingly becoming a silent killer. The recent deaths of more than ten people in the Bhagirathpura area of Indore due to contaminated drinking water are not just a local tragedy—it is a national warning that we are choosing to ignore at our own peril.
What happened in Indore could have happened in any city in India. In fact, it does happen, in small and large ways, every day. Across urban India, potable water pipelines and sewage lines run perilously close to each other—often laid decades ago, poorly mapped, inadequately maintained, and silently corroding beneath our feet. During monsoons, when groundwater levels rise, sewage seeps into drinking water pipes through cracks and leakages. That millions survive this daily gamble is less a testament to governance than sheer luck.
The Bhagirathpura incident highlights the fragility and indifference of our urban water management systems. Cities proudly expand their skylines, launch smart city projects, and talk about digital governance, yet fail at the most basic responsibility: ensuring safe drinking water. When water pipelines and sewage lines run dangerously close to each other—often decades old and poorly maintained—the risk is inevitable. During monsoon seasons, when groundwater levels rise and soil becomes saturated, contamination becomes almost certain. The question is not if contamination will occur, but when and where.
Water contamination is not at all an infrastructural failure; it is a moral and cultural failure. For centuries, Indian traditions revered water bodies—rivers, lakes, ponds and wells—as sacred commons. Today, we dump untreated sewage into rivers, encroach upon lakes, poison groundwater with industrial effluents, and neglect wells until they dry up or become unusable. Seepage of septic tank water into wells is a common phenomenon nationwide. Even the toxic effluents from industrial units are directly discharged into water bodies. Rivers that once sustained life now carry toxic foam; lakes meant to recharge aquifers are converted into dumping grounds; oceans choke with oil spills, effluents and plastic waste. The elixir of life is turning into poison, not by accident, but by the collective indifference of a single species.
Beyond cities and visible water bodies lies an even more alarming and often overlooked crisis—the large-scale pollution and degradation of glaciers caused by anthropogenic activities. Glaciers, which serve as the primary freshwater reservoirs for millions of people, are no longer pristine. Soot, black carbon, microplastics, industrial pollutants, and solid waste are increasingly being detected in glacial regions. The formation of snow has been shrinking in many glacier regions. Tourism, unregulated pilgrimage, construction activities, and irresponsible waste disposal in high-altitude areas are accelerating glacial melt while simultaneously contaminating the very source of our rivers. What begins as pollution on ice eventually flows downstream, affecting rivers, groundwater, agriculture, and drinking water supplies. If this assault on glaciers continues unchecked, it could unleash hydrological havoc—unpredictable floods, water scarcity, ecosystem collapse, and long-term public health crises.
Ironically, even religions—which historically taught the sanctity of water—is now entangled in its degradation. Unscientific religious practices, mass offerings, immersion of idols made with toxic materials, and ritual waste dumping have contributed significantly to water pollution. The tragedy lies in the fact that the moment religion pitches in, questioning stops. Science, environmental ethics and public health are silenced in the name of faith. True reverence for water cannot coexist with practices that pollute and destroy it. Respecting water must go beyond symbolic rituals and translate into responsible action.
The Indore deaths shows the inefficiency of water governance in India . Municipal bodies blame outdated infrastructure, health departments respond only after outbreaks, and citizens remain largely unaware until tragedy strikes. There is no proper audit of the hygiene of water supplied through municipal pipelines or through wells.
Public awareness is another missing link. We take clean water for granted until it is gone or poisoned. Unlike air pollution, which is visible and increasingly discussed, water contamination often remains invisible until people fall ill or die. Respect for water must become a civic value, taught in schools, reinforced through media, and practised at home. Wasting water, polluting local sources, or ignoring leaks and contamination risks should be seen as serious social offences, not minor inconveniences.
At the same time, governance alone cannot solve the crisis. Civil society, religious institutions, urban planners and scientists must work together to evolve practices that are environmentally sound and culturally sensitive. Faith and science need not be enemies; both ultimately seek the well-being of humanity.
The tragedy in Bhagirathpura should not fade into yet another forgotten headline. It should serve as a turning point—a reminder that access to safe water is not negotiable, not optional, and not left to chance. Water is life. Without it, no life can sustain on this planet. If we continue to disrespect, pollute and mismanage this precious resource—from glaciers to groundwater—the elixir of life will increasingly turn into a slow, silent poison.
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