Down to earth for Abuites.
Driving down Abu Road with Harry and Mohan, I stopped to take a snap—Plummy draped in its mantle of green, the fading sun smiling on thee.
The monsoons have retreated.
The fruit trees are preparing.
Hope for the fauna—
To survive the onslaught of the coming summer.
These lines kept running through my mind as we drove. Abu looked radiant, washed clean by the rains, but beneath the surface lay the same old worry: water.
After the Rains
The monsoon season ends by late September, with only the rare showers continuing into early October. Nature shifts gears—trees setting fruit, animals adjusting, the hills drying out. And so must we.
It's been said that the household water supply will be restored soon, but with restrictions in place. Perhaps once every three days, and if things get worse, once in four. It feels like every year we walk this tightrope, hoping the monsoon has left us with enough to scrape through the summer.
The Water Question
Much of the struggle comes from poor management. Reservoirs leak, repairs drag on, and proposals for new dams never seem to leave the paper they’re drafted on. The government’s response has been slow, even though Abu’s citizens have repeatedly appealed, written, suggested, and pleaded.
Watching the sun fade behind Plummy that evening, I couldn’t shake the thought: Will Abu be ready when the summer sun arrives?
A Simple Request
This is a small appeal—from me, from every Abuite who calls this place home. Please, let’s not treat Nakki Lake as a dustbin. It is not only a tourist attraction, but our lifeline. When the drought hits, when the summer bites, it is Nakki that sustains us. Protecting it is protecting ourselves.
The hills may be green now, the air still cool. But all too soon, the summer will test us. If we want these blessings of the monsoon to carry us through, we must act together.
More on the Lake →
There should be a steep fine for anyone throwing garbage anywhere.
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