Human civilisations and cultures have grown on riverbanks. Agrarian Indian culture reveres rivers as life-giving mothers. Development of human culture is closely related to river valleys and the civilisations assumed names of the rivers that supported them to grow, flourish, possibly as a gesture showing their respect.
Human life’s proximity to the rivers manifests itself in various forms –through epics and ancient verses, folklores and festivals. Indian culture eulogizes glory of water itself through the traditions like chanting the names of five rivers while bathing and celebration of river or closeness to life supporting water flows through a range of literary and artistic impressions.
Pune like several other great cities started its journey as a small hamlet –Punawadi as it then was known to the world around it –living by the river. Yet, for Pune _that was seat of Maratha power, the land that kept burning the cinders of patriotism, abode of Saraswati _the goddess of learning, hub of automobile industry and now IT destination _rivers have always remained on an edge. For decades River Mutha was a twisting and turning line drawn by the nature between Kasbe Pune and the villages around it –both physically and perceptively.
Pune’s daily life has hardly been entwined with the rivers since it started ushering in to its modern avatar as a planned city in mid- 18th century. Riverbanks generally were synonymous to crematories, washing places or/and no-man’s dumping lands for an average Puneite, since numerous wells, then a unique underground water supply system fed by the Katraj lake and from late 19th century onwards the Khadakwasala dam and its canals on the west and Jamshedji Jijibhoy’s bund at Yerwada on east ended the need to walk up to the rivers to fetch drinking water. For Puneites drinking water has always “come from dams” rather than “brought from the rivers”.
Staying across the river was a taboo until Lokmanya Tilak founded Deccan Gymkhana Society. The “across the river is out of town” perception was so strong that the orthodox Pune then had forced educator D K Karve to find a place for his aashram for destitute women on the other side of the river, in Hingane then miles away from the town.
Another reason for Pune’s emotional de-linking with its rivers probably is Pune’s military relevance nursed by the Britishers since early-19th century. Long land tracts along Mula and Pawana rivers then were taken for military establishments.
Indian traditions consider rivers confluences as most sacred places, yet in modern day Pune sangam of Mula and Mutha and even Pawana and Mula remained out of bounds for average Puneites. For many years after fall of the Peshwa regime, the spot looking over confluence of Mula and Mutha was an official residence of Pune’s British resident, and so was the sangam of Pawana and Mula near Dapodi. For many years this confluence region accommodated a now-forgotten Governor House.
Possibly that is why Pune rivers always got a raw deal. The natural corridors for westerly winds, a vital water recharging system that kept feeding city wells for generations always remained devoid of any emotional linkages with the great city that flourished on their banks. There are some great paintings of Pune Rivers, but they hardly find any mention in literature. Unlike sister-rivers, Bheema and Indrayani, they never acquired any devotional connotations. Literary or Celluloid protagonists hardly have had Mula and Mutha as part of their romance or adventures. There is no celebration dedicated to these rivers –saying “Thank You” to them.
Instead, they are turned in to gutters. The city has left the riversides either to encroach, dump or just to decay. Now a day, the urban stretches of Mula and Mutha are left to support no form of life –forget a culture.
Obviously the opportunity is still not lost. There is time for every citizen to do his or her bit for the river –though they are not our lifelines in the traditional sense. They still can provide a space –for stress bursting fresh air, to sit awhile and dream or just to walk holding someone’s hand, for children to play and for all of us to understand rivers.
