Pune’s drought could dry up business

Water rationing threatens to hit the city’s wedding industry, construction sector, retail trade and livelihoods. Pune : Pune is beginning to feel the economic sting of drought. A 10 percent cut in the city’s water supply has already been implemented, and the municipal administration has indicated that the reduction could rise to 20 percent or more over the next two to three months. What appears at first to be a water-management crisis could soon become a wider economic problem, affecting...

min read

Water rationing threatens to hit the city’s wedding industry, construction sector, retail trade and livelihoods. Pune : Pune is beginning to feel the economic sting of drought. A 10 percent cut in the city’s water supply has already been implemented, and the municipal administration has indicated that the reduction could rise to 20 percent or more over the next two to three months. What appears at first to be a water-management crisis could soon become a wider economic problem, affecting businesses, construction activity, employment and household budgets. The Pune Municipal Corporation has begun shutting off the water supply every Thursday. Swimming pools and vehicle-washing centres have been closed, while the use of water for construction has been prohibited. The state government has directed the civic administration to ensure that the reserves in the Khadakwasla dam chain, which supplies Pune, last until August 2027. The challenge could become more acute in the months ahead. Meteorological experts have forecast a milder winter and significantly higher temperatures this year. If these predictions hold true, increased evaporation could place further pressure on the city's water reserves, potentially necessitating stricter rationing. For residents accustomed to a relatively abundant water supply, cuts of 20 percent or more would demand a substantial adjustment in daily life. Intense Pressure The economic consequences are beginning to emerge. The closure of vehicle-washing centres has deprived young people employed in low-skilled jobs of their livelihoods. Swimming-pool closures have similarly affected security guards and lifeguards. These may appear to be small, isolated losses, but they expose a larger problem: when water-intensive businesses are forced to shut down, the burden falls disproportionately on workers with few financial reserves and limited employment alternatives. The impact could spread to Pune’s lucrative wedding industry. The wedding season traditionally gathers momentum after Tulsi Vivah in the month of Kartik, generating business worth more than Rs. 200-250 crore. Pune has long attracted affluent families from outside the city who prefer its venues and facilities for wedding celebrations, partly because of its historically reliable water supply. Persistent restrictions could undermine that advantage. Wedding venues, caterers, hotels and other service providers depend on a dependable water supply to operate. If rationing becomes more severe, organisers may reconsider their choice of venue, while businesses could face higher operating costs and disruptions. An industry that generates substantial seasonal revenue also supports a network of workers and small enterprises, making the potential economic fallout wider than the immediate loss of bookings. Rural-Urban Connection Pune’s commercial fortunes are also linked to the health of the rural economy. A good agricultural harvest typically improves rural incomes, supporting spending on goods and services in urban markets. When farm earnings weaken, that spending tends to contract, affecting traders, retailers and other businesses. If rural incomes remain subdued, the city’s commercial sector could face an additional headwind at a time when water scarcity is already threatening business activity. The interaction between agricultural distress and urban water shortages could therefore deepen the economic slowdown. Construction presents another major vulnerability. Like many large cities, Pune depends heavily on real estate and infrastructure development to sustain economic activity and employment. Construction projects generate demand across a broad network of industries, from building-material suppliers and transport operators to contractors and daily-wage workers. A prolonged restriction on construction-related water use could delay projects, raise costs and disrupt work schedules. If projects stall, the effects will extend beyond developers to workers, suppliers and businesses that depend on the real estate sector. Rising Inflation For ordinary citizens, the prospect of tighter water rationing comes amid an already difficult cost-of-living situation. Food and restaurant prices have risen sharply. A cup of tea now costs more than Rs. 30, while a serving of idli-sambar can exceed Rs. 90. Even street food, traditionally an affordable option for working people, has become increasingly expensive. These prices illustrate the pressure on household budgets, particularly those of workers whose incomes have not kept pace with rising costs. If water shortages push up operating expenses for restaurants, caterers and other businesses, consumers could face further increases. The extent of any additional price rise will depend on how severe and prolonged the restrictions become. The working class is particularly exposed. Workers in vehicle-washing centres, swimming pools, construction and allied services may lose income precisely when everyday necessities are becoming more expensive. Unlike larger businesses, many such workers have little capacity to absorb a prolonged interruption in earnings. Pune’s immediate challenge is to conserve enough water to carry the city through the coming months. Yet the implications of the drought extend well beyond household taps and civic supply schedules. Trade, real estate, hospitality and seasonal businesses all depend, directly or indirectly, on the availability of water. The two sectors facing particular uncertainty are trade and real estate. The former could suffer from weaker consumer spending and disruptions to commercial activity; the latter could be affected by restrictions on construction and the risk of project delays. The consequences would be felt across employment and the wider urban economy. Pune’s residents and businesses have not had to contend with water cuts of 20 percent or more on a sustained basis. Adapting to such restrictions will be difficult, especially if temperatures rise and the drought persists.

When the Princess Left Her Fortress…

Anishkaa Muthe

Dec 30, 2024

4 min read

Updated: Jan 2, 2025

I recently saw a movie, it had this dialogue “teenage girls are psychopaths” and maybe it is right, maybe we are a generation full of messed up kids trying to survive in this deathly jungle we’ve created for ourselves. And this survival gets harder when you’re a 16-year-old that moves into a city way bigger than their own, to ‘step into the world’ with rosy dreams and rosy expectations. I am one of those 16-year-olds, who with very romanticised notions, very naively decided to step into the ‘City of Dreams’: Mumbai.

Mumbai, is probably 10 times the size of my not very humble, but very little town. Moving to Mumbai was my dream since 1st grade, and when that dream manifested, I was on Cloud 9. I thought my life would be perfect, I’d have the perfect group of friends, I’d go to fancy parties, I’d do lots of events in college, I’d be known, I’d be in my ‘Academic Beast’ ‘It Girl’ era and what not; but reality is pretty far from any of that. Back in my town, I was the top of the hierarchy, the Perfect Girl, centre of attention, the Lovely Queen; after moving to Mumbai, my life of the last 13yrs came crashing down on me. I became this introverted, invisible person; the friends’ group or lots of parties definitely did not happen, neither did the academic beast and It girl era.

I came to realise that Mumbai, no matter how pretty, beautiful and picture-worthy, is very harsh and extremely tough. No matter how much anyone says ‘Mumbai embraces all’, the ‘All’ still do feel left out to some extent, when everyone around you is this confident Mumbai Kid and you’re this awkward girl from out of town who knows nothing about the city, its people or its ‘culture’, who’s trying to push through this humongous crowd that’s, without trying very hard, swallowing you down; but standing here, watching this city move past me, I wonder Does Mumbai really not bother about anyone Or Is it just not willing to let you in?

But there’s still something to hang on to, somewhere to belong, isn’t there? When you go back home and you have friends there; Spoiler Alert: you don’t. When I went back home for my first holiday, I realised I didn’t belong there anymore, now I was the Mumbai Girl; 13yrs lost and forgotten, within 3 months. That’s when it hit ‘I’m all alone now’ neither do I belong in Mumbai, neither do I back at home. Trust me, I have never felt more lost in my life.

I’m the kind of people who thrive on attention and external validation, to have that very thing taken from me was very hard to live with. So, I chose to cope by holding on, holding on how? Well, simple tactic, making an indirect statement saying “you excluded me, but I belong in places better than you” how I did that? I held onto my past self, my actions were based on how pretty, fun and ‘happening’ my life was to look on Instagram. I did have fun, not that I didn’t, but most of it was for the eyes of the world and not my own satisfaction [it still is that way, I haven’t gotten any better yet].

Then came my midterms, and I wasn’t as great as I thought I’d be and my extracurriculars weren’t anything major either. That made me realise that I was like any other kid around me here, unlike when I was back home, always the different one, the one that stood out, and suddenly I didn’t anymore, I was ordinary. The realisation hit me, right in the face, hard and strong, that in this huge ocean, I was no whale or shark, just another little fish in the Shoal. My future suddenly became scary, thinking about college and university became terrifying and I just wanted to avoid it all, simply run away [I still do, sometimes] And now, I’m a mess.

But not all of it was bad honestly, Mumbai taught me a lot of things, it humbled me and it helped see: within myself and so many things about myself that I never really knew and were suddenly crystal clear in front of my eyes, as if a very loud noise had been shut down and I could hear clearly again. Back at home, I had this persona designated to me: ‘The Perfect Girl’ and suddenly I didn’t have to be anyone anymore, it was harder that way honestly, to not have a script to follow anymore. I had to discover myself and who I truly was for the first time Ever; I think that’s what I’m doing now, getting to know myself beyond who I was 6 months ago.

Things aren’t any better right now, I don’t think they will be for very long and sometimes moving here may seem like the biggest mistake I’ve ever made, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. So, this new year I have one resolution: I’m going to find who I am, a new persona, a new person, not defined by her past self, past life and this Social Jungle of teenagers she’s surviving in. This new year will be of rediscovery. So, here’s to 2025 and to all of us, whose lives changed because they stepped into the big, bad world out there; let us all be proud of ourselves as this year ends, because leaving our homes and lives behind is not easy and we lived that down: The Shift, the way it hit our egos and shattered our sense of belonging, but we didn’t run away, we strived through it and are surviving to see the light of day.

So, A Very Happy New Year People.

(The author is a student of St. Xavier College, Mumbai.)

1 Comment

Jayaram Kousik .

Jun 12, 2025

Great write, yes Mumbai is a jungle and you have to fund your true bearings and none towards your destination