By the Vrishabhavathi River Monthly Gathering• May 2026
Songs by the river – Pallavi Chethan
While everyone enjoyed the beautiful songs sung by Pallavi. We had a unexpected surprise of having Mr. Prabhakar Puttanna. The River He Remembered
That morning, Prabhakar Puttanna had come to the temple with his family for their annual pooja. None of us expected that his visit would become one of those beautiful, unexpected encounters that stay with you long after the day is over.
When he and his wife heard that there were people trying to bring attention back to the lost Vrishabhavathi River and, more importantly, trying to imagine a better future for her, the couple were pleasantly surprised and genuinely excited.
For Puttanna, Vrishabhavathi was not the river we see today. He remembered her differently.
He remembered a seasonal river, flowing gently as a small, clean stream. A river that was healthy, unpolluted and very much a part of everyday life. His memories belonged to a time when the river was not something people turned away from, but something they knew, noticed and lived alongside.
What struck us most was the reaction of his children and grandchildren. They listened, but there was no similar sense of connection. They had never seen the Vrishabhavathi that Puttanna remembered. For them, there was no childhood river to remember, no clean stream woven into their memories, no personal story attached to her.
Perhaps that is one of the saddest things about a lost river: when a river disappears slowly enough, an entire generation can grow up without ever knowing what they have lost.
We were all sitting there, listening to the beautiful, melodious voice of Pallavi, when Puttanna began sharing his memories with us. His stories opened a little window into another Vrishabhavathi.
He told us about a well that was by the river now completely gone with the way river banks have changed over the years. He spoke of how the river once flowed as a small seasonal stream, clean and clear, very different from the polluted and degraded river we know today. He talked about the day long picnics by the river playing in the water, using it for cooking and bathing etc.
For a while, we weren’t simply listening to a story about a river. We were listening to someone remember her. And perhaps that is where hope begins. Because Puttanna’s memories reminded us that the Vrishabhavathi we dream of is not an impossible river. Someone remembers her as a river. Not as Kengeri Mori.
His children and grandchildren may not have known that river, but perhaps they can be part of a generation that gets to know her again. And as we sat together that morning with Pallavi’s voice filling the air and Puttanna’s memories bringing an old Vrishabhavathi back to life, we were reminded that restoring a river is not only about cleaning its water or restoring its ecosystems.
It is also about rebuilding our connection with the river. Remembering what she once meant to people. Listening to the stories of those who knew her differently. And perhaps beginning to imagine what she could mean to us again!
