When Usha Rajago-palan moved to Bengaluru with her husband and son in 2006, the intention was simply to embrace her dream of writing full-time. But fate had other plans.
Settling down near Puttenahalli Lake in JP Nagar, she saw a garbage dump where a serene water body should have been—sewage seeped in, plastic bobbed on the surface, and crows feasted on filth. Raised in Thiruvananthapuram, Kerala, with a deep respect for nature instilled by her father, an IFS officer, she couldn’t ignore it. “I asked myself what my father would think if I kept quiet.”
That she worked as an assistant executive to the late Verghese Kurien, the architect of India’s ‘white revolution’, also helped. “Kurien taught me not to be scared,” she recalls.
She wrote to newspapers, authorities, and community groups. But words alone wouldn’t save the lake. “If you have an idea and don’t pursue it fully, it remains an idea,” she says. She and a friend at ABIDe (Agenda for Bengaluru Infrastructure and Development Task Force) worked to get Puttenahalli Lake included in BBMP’s (Bruhat Bengaluru Mahanagara Palike) list for restoration. By 2010, the rejuvenation began, leading to the formation of the Puttenahalli Neighbourhood Lake Improvement Trust (PNLIT).
In 2011, PNLIT signed a landmark MoU with BBMP for lake conservation. PNLIT raised Rs 48,000 to divert sewage underground, allowing rainwater to refill the lake. However, the lake didn’t fill fully in the first monsoon. PNLIT collaborated with a CSR project, BBMP, and the Karnataka State Pollution Control Board to harvest runoff water and bring in treated water from a sewage plant. The lake overflowed for the first time on July 27, 2016. Today, the 13-acre Puttenahalli Lake is home to over 122 bird species, 50 butterfly species, 500 trees, and thriving aquatic life.
PNLIT has since conducted over 500 environmental awareness events and engaged over 800 corporate and resident volunteers.
But lake conservation is a neverending battle. A growing slum settlement beside the lake became a major challenge. What started as 30-40 families grew to over 100, leading to open garbage dumping. The slum’s location prevented PNLIT from fencing sections, leading to theft and vandalism. “We followed up with BBMP, the revenue department, and the slum board. In 2019, the high court gave them 12 weeks to act. But here we are in 2025, and nothing has changed,” she says. After filing a writ petition, the court ordered eviction in July 2022, but the slum dwellers got a stay order.
Rajagopalan emphasises the importance of protecting open spaces in cities. “Development must be planned. It cannot be haphazard or come at the cost of green and blue spaces. We don’t have the power, but we can tell them (the government) what needs to be done.”
Despite years of effort, perseverance remains key. “From 2008 to today, we are still struggling. Who has the inclination to spend so much time? Who has the patience to go after people? And we do this pro bono. Honestly, in these years, I could have written so many books,” she says.
Rajagopalan’s philosophy isn’t just about preserving lakes but making them thrive. Under her leadership, PNLIT planted trees, built gardens, installed aerators, and created floating islands of biofilters. Today, Puttenahalli Lake isn’t just a water body—it’s a sanctuary.
