Good old river Cooum can be restored

 

Project Walk Along the River #Cooum impressed me mainly because it was an artistic sojourn. I was looking forward to explore the civilization and eco systems of the river. Our walk along the river began on July 21, 2015.

 

When artistes landed at the village ‘Cooum’, they had little knowledge about the nine-day journey that they were about to embark upon. Initially, the artists evoked the blessings of Goddess Thiripuranthaka Nayagi of the famous Cooum temple and experienced the relationship between goddess worship and nature. It was evident that rivers are female divinities in our rich culture. In this part of the world, the waters of Cooum dictated the rhythm of life.

 

Cooum has been a perennial source of livelihood to thousands of people living along its course. People see the river as a manifestation of divine female power, Sakthi. For us in Chennai, Cooum is a river turned into an open sewage system.

 

We commenced our walk at the spot from where the river becomes ‘Cooum. The Kesavaram dam, the point where the water separates out as Coovum and Kosasthalayar rivers, was operated from 1942 to divert the water to Poondi reservoir, a drinking water source for the city.

 

Today, the river is desert-dry with palm trees shooting up from its soil and has become a grazing ground for goats. At the point where the river originates lies the sprawling Thakkolam field, which had witnessed arguably the most crucial battle in Tamil history.

 

The artistes’ team decided to walk inside the riverbed in scorching sun. The brutal weather does not allow us to complete even two kilometer without a break. We initially stopped by Selvi akka’s farmhouse at Pudhiya Kesavaram to refill our water bottles with cool spring water.

 

Selvi has shifted her base from Chennai to the riverbank of Pudhiya Kesavaram about six years ago. The one acre farm feeds her family. They rely on the 70 feet bore well for irrigation and domestic water needs. Seventy-year-old Muthu Krishnan was full of memories of good old days of Cooum. Farming then brought wealth and riches. But today, his cattle grazes in the riverbed. 

 

At the 23rd km point of the river we spotted flowing water. Verdant green fields on either sides of the river were a sight to behold. We continued to build rapport with people who rear ducks on the banks, graze cattle and also take rest under shady trees. There were Bulbuls and Cormorants. For many people, the river is a source of livelihood. 

We walked along the banks of the river, drank water from households along the banks and rested at nights in local government schools or community halls.

 

But once it enters urban areas, the river changes its form. What flows in it is domestic untreated sewage water. The banks of the river are dumped with garbage. Recycling waste is one of the major livelihoods of most people living on its edges. 

 

Rani Amma, 68, recollects her connections with the river Cooum. ‘I got married when I was just 16 years old. This part of Chennai had many trees, almost like a dense forest. I have taken bath in the river and have tasted its fresh water fishes,” she says. 

 

A flood sometime in early 1980s had destroyed their huts. “After that the Slum Board and the state government built us houses. My girls grew up here in the same banks and are now married off.” 

Cooum is full of life. If we are ready to go back to the river for ‘Aadi Perukku’, or revitalize the social and cultural heritage of the river or rehabilitate the river’s eco system, Cooum is sure to redeem its lost historic glory.