My Home Is This Landscape. And It Needs Saving

Sometimes, “home” is a physical landscape. Despite the many clichés I’ve heard, from “home is where the heart is” to “walls make a house, people make a home”, for many of us who grew up at the Hyderabad Central University (HCU) campus, “home” is the campus. We were fondly called “faculty children” or “campus kids” if a parent worked at the university in some capacity, teaching or non-teaching. Growing up on a university campus a few decades back meant having 2,000+ acres of large, dry-deciduous jungle around us, sprinkled with the typical government-styled academic buildings and residential quarters of Hyderabad University. 

On campus, “hanging out” literally meant lingering by the low branches of wild tamarind trees and gnarled lianas by the lakeside. Long Sunday mornings were spent picnicking by the lakes with a snack basket, frisbee, and the latest Tinkle Digest. Some days, we hiked to Mushroom Rock with a bunch of enthusiastic adults. The trail traversed a rich jungle of myriad trees and plants. There’d be vines to hop over, birds to look at, snakes to watch out for, and a long line of tumbling and chuckling children of all ages to keep an eye on! Mushroom Rock was known for spectacular sunrise views. The rising sun would first illuminate the space beneath the “mushroom cap” before it washed over the entire rock and landscape. Some agile adults would find a way up the base rock into the shade of the mushroom cap. Children would follow, more effortlessly, from scrambling rocks regularly. Some would get a boost from others. Somehow, we’d all make our way up just in time to see the rising sun. Then we’d sit in the shade, digging into the picnic basket hungrily. Today, our hiking path leads to a motorable road strewn with construction debris and a building-lined skyline.

Divya Vallabhajosula, who grew up on the campus, has many cherished memories of wonderful times spent in this environment. One such memory is of walking on a rainy day along eucalyptus and subabul trees, enjoying the fresh scent of the wet soil and refreshing air, and experiencing the wonderful sounds of nature. She recalls chasing ladybugs and velvet mites with friends, feeling their little velvety coats, bringing them home, feeding them, and then releasing them.

  

In March 2025, the Telangana government announced its intention to sell 400 acres of this forested land for “development” and “revenue generation”. But for us, it is our home that is up for bidding. This landscape is our home and an important green lung for the city. What is up for sale is our home. Our kin, in the form of birds, reptiles, insects, trees, and flowering plants, have been pushed out. When we pick and choose what deserves protection and what can be sacrificed for human needs, the human experience is also at risk.

Way back in August 1988, the very first issue of Nature News, a newsletter by the Nature Club at HCU, stated: “We ought to know by now that to destroy things is not a crime against them but against ourselves. If the campus is a little cooler than the city today, it will not be so next year; if there is enough water in our tube wells, there will not be quite enough next year; if we think that there is plenty of everything on the campus, that is so today, but it will not be tomorrow — if we destroy things or allow others to do so needlessly. It is our environment; we must protect it.”

It is no surprise, then, that current and past campus residents carry the spirit of resisting this disheartening move by the government to destroy the surrounding forest and “develop” the land. Even decades back, citizens recognised and demanded that our shared environment be protected and preserved. A land that is not constructed on, but is lush with impenetrable scrub forests, critter movement, and birdsong isn’t a “wasteland” as the government is claiming. It never was — not in 1988, not today! These are rich habitats, among the few remaining in a city taken over by concrete towers. When the government offers to protect an ancient rock or a lake while clearing out everything else around it, it isn’t an ecological solution.

In response to citizen protests, the government said that Mushroom Rock would be preserved in the new landscape of the development project. This is ironical at best and seeping of haughty cruelty at its worst. Things in nature do not stand in isolation. In trying to pick one thing apart, we will invariably find it is connected to everything else. Mushroom Rock does not stand in isolation but is enveloped in an ecosystem of a thorny scrub forest that is habitat to many species, including birds, porcupines, spotted deer, and reptiles. This is a habitat that fuels our well-being. 

Mushroom Rock, the lakes on campus, and the lush surrounding jungle are all teeming with life. The area is a place for exploration, leisure, childhood wonder, and discovery, for it is accessible to the people of the land. As campus kids, we learnt of cobras and pythons not from posters warning us to be wary of snakes but from a sense of kinship. We knew that we shared our gardens and backyard jungles with more-than-human creatures. It was not uncommon to spot a vine snake, cobra, or rat snake while out on a casual stroll. We learnt to recognise the harmless from the venomous and not to kill either, whether we could identify them or not! It was hands-on education of the world while living beside various creatures: fuzzy birds, sprinting deer, protective boars, shiny snakes, prickly porcupines, colourful butterflies, wildflowers, and anything else that breathed life into this landscape. We treated the wilderness with reverence and curiosity. Our childhoods and lives today are better for the days spent amidst what the government now deems “barren” and “wasteland”.

Soujanya, who was also a “campus kid,” believes the environment has shaped a significant part of who she is today. “A cobra in the hall, a monkey stealing grains left in the sun, peacocks, and wild boar visiting us so often making sure we didn’t have a vegetable patch; countless birds, spotted deer, porcupines — were all part and parcel of growing up on campus,” she says. “Never once did I question the intelligence of trees or wonder if animals had emotions. I just knew they did. Over time, my home began to shrink. Once vast and untouched, the land slowly disappeared to make way for a stadium, research centre, shooting range, bus depot, new departments, and wide roads. Every year, I hear of the devastating effects of climate change, yet the destruction continues — in and around HCU. And my heart aches for the home it once was.” Unfortunately, in the name of development, a woodland where trees mingled with thorny bushes, lakes, and granite rocks is slowly transforming into a concrete jungle, where broken liquor bottles are scattered on paths where children once ran barefoot.

Even as citizens have gotten together to oppose the government’s decision to auction 400 acres of urban forestland rich in biodiversity, the clearing of the landscape has already begun. In the last several decades, we have seen so much of this jungle-playground dwindling as land was auctioned away for various buildings and stadiums. The choice has historically been economy over ecology. In continuing to do so, yet again, we are taking away the right of children to discover our inherent kinship with the natural world. We are taking away the rights of the more-than-human world of creatures and trees to survive, if not thrive. We are taking away the right of citizens to clean air and natural respite from increasing temperatures. We are taking away the right of life from all life.

CLEARING THE LAND – IN A NUTSHELL

In early March 2025, the TSIIC (Telangana State Industrial Infrastructure Corporation) announced an auction of a 400-acre lush urban forest of Kancha Gachibowli in the name of development and revenue generation, with a proposal to build an IT hub.

This landscape merges with the beloved campus of the University of Hyderabad, including environmentally important areas like Mushroom Rock, Buffalo Lake, and Peacock Lake. For decades, this has been a biodiverse forest, a habitat to myriad species, including protected species such as Indian crested porcupine, Indian rock python, peafowl, spotted deer, monitor lizard, black-naped hare, chameleon, and innumerable birds (paradise fly-catcher, black-winged stilt, spotted owlet) and much insect life (e.g. dung-beetle, Indian giant mantis, common jezebel). This landscape is not only a habitat for wildlife but also among the few pockets of large green spaces left in the city, offering significant relief from noise and air pollution.

Students, concerned citizens, and environmental organisations came together in protest, asking the government to reconsider its decision. A citizen’s collective, SaveCityForests, was formed to help organise and mobilise efforts.

A PIL (Public Interest Litigation) was filed by Vata Foundation (an environmental non-profit) represented by Uday Krishna Pedireddy and Kalapala Babu Rao. Even as a court hearing was awaited, the government began felling trees and clearing the forest. In April 2025, the Supreme Court ordered the tree-felling to be halted and a thorough inspection of the land and biodiversity to be carried out by the Telangana High Court registrar. 

Read more about the demand of the citizens here: Halt TGIIC’s Auction of 400+ Acres of Vital Forest Land in Kancha Gachibowli

To learn more and participate in the citizen’s movement : Save Hyderabad City Forest (@savecityforests) • Instagram photos and videos