New Delhi
A few years ago, the 17th-century Bansilalpet Stepwell in Secunderabad was buried under about 3,000 tonnes of dirty waste accumulated over decades.
Today, it is one of the city’s most vibrant public spaces. Its water – stable at around 28 feet even in extreme summer – is now used by local residents for drinking and domestic needs, making Bansilalpet the first restored stepwell in Telangana to serve as a direct source of drinking water.
Bansilalpet is not an isolated story. All across India – from Hyderabad to Tamil Nadu, Rajasthan, Gujarat and Maharashtra – a quiet movement is underway. Communities, conservation architects, NGOs and governments are reviving century-old stepwells, temple ponds and underground tanks that were once dismissed as relics of the past. There is growing recognition that these systems can help cities, at least to some extent, deal with the deepening urban water crisis – which has pushed more than 600 million people into high water stress, left major cities staring down repeated “Day Zero” scenarios, and forced millions to rely on expensive tanker water every summer.
In Telangana, architect Kalpana Ramesh has been at the forefront of this change. Through his The Rainwater Project, he has helped revive over 30 stepwells across the state, about half of which are in Hyderabad, as sustainable local water sources.
In 18 months, his team cleared thousands of tonnes of garbage from Bansilalpet. The work was challenging and uncertain, supported by community contributions, CSR funding and government support, and was completed in 2024.
She recalls, “When we first went there, there was no record of the well – no map, no documentation. We didn’t know its size, depth or structure. It was like working blind.”
Today, the restored stepwell has water throughout the year.
“These wells act like recharge systems,” she explains. “During the rains, water flows and seeps through layers of sand and stone, filling aquifers. Earlier, it would simply flow away.”
But for Ramesh, restoration alone is not enough.
“There’s always a risk that a restored well could become a dump yard again,” she says. “So we focused on what happens after restoration.”
The result is a model that combines water conservation with public space. Bansilalpet now has an interpretation centre, green areas and cultural spaces. About 2,000 people visit each week, and a small local economy has emerged around it.
“The well has to earn for itself,” she says. “No NGO or government can fund maintenance forever. If people benefit through water, livelihoods and culture, they will protect it.”
World Monuments Fund India (WMFI), in partnership with TCS Foundation, Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) and other government agencies, is leading India’s Historic Water Systems Initiative – a program that identifies, restores and reactivates traditional water structures.
It has renovated historic stepwells like Rajon Ki Baoli in Delhi, with dozens of other stepwells currently being revived in several states.
“Our traditional water systems were never decorative – they were designed to manage water in times of scarcity,” says Malini Thadani, executive director of WMFI India. “Our approach is simple: identify, restore and ensure long-term maintenance.”
The water from Rajon Ki Baoli, which was revived last year, is currently used for gardening within the Mehrauli Archaeological Park.
“The idea is that it becomes part of a larger water management network,” Thadani says.
That network is where the real value lies, experts say.
Where hydrology meets history
From a hydrogeological perspective, these structures are engineered recharge systems that replenish groundwater through storage and seepage, says Dr. V. Govindan Kutty, assistant professor of geography and hydrogeologist at the Government Arts and Sciences College, Nilambur, whose work examines traditional water systems in relation to landscape, climate and settlement patterns.
“When integrated with modern urban water systems and supported by scientific planning, these traditional structures can make meaningful contributions to groundwater conservation,” he says. “When runoff is directed into stepwells, it reduces surface runoff and allows water to seep into the ground.”
However, today their effectiveness is shaped by urban conditions.
“In many cities, surface dampness, sewage leakage and underground infrastructure such as metro corridors and pipelines have disrupted natural recharge pathways,” explains Kutty. “Restoration should therefore be supported by careful geohydrological assessment.”
In addition to large-scale institutional projects, smaller grassroots initiatives are also making a visible impact.
For example, in Maharashtra, Pune-based organization Sevavardhini is reviving traditional barvas in drought-hit areas like Jejuri and Baramati. A restored structure – Fakirachchi Barav – now supplies drinking water to more than 40,000 people, reducing dependence on tanker supplies.
In Alwar, Rajasthan, the Environmentalist Foundation of India (EFI), in collaboration with Hinduja Foundation and Ashok Leyland, renovated the historic Musi Rani Sagar Stepwell in 2022. Once neglected and filled with debris, the 200-year-old structure – which was fed by the Kishan Kund hill collection tank through a 900-metre canal – was desilted, repaired and fitted with aerators. Despite not being part of the formal piped water supply, the revived stepwell now provides water for domestic use and supports groundwater recharge in this water-stressed area. The project demonstrates how traditional rainwater systems can be adapted to meet modern urban water needs.
In the walled city of Ahmedabad, thousands of traditional underground rainwater storage chambers, known as tankas, remain intact. An estimated 10,000 of these limestone structures are located inside historic pole houses, each capable of storing approximately 25,000 liters of water. A study published last month in the peer-reviewed Springer journal, Built Heritage, found that nearly 90% of homeowners surveyed support a co-governance model to revitalize these systems. “These have immense potential as reliable, climate-resilient storage in a walled city facing severe water stress, where municipal supply is often limited to just two and a half hours a day,” says Piyush Pandya, one of the study’s lead authors.
lessons from the past
For conservation architect Shikha Jain, these revivals are based on the water management knowledge that once shaped Indian cities – systems that were deeply interconnected.
Across India, many of these networks are unknown or buried under decades of urban expansion. Researchers and physicians are now mapping them to understand how they work. For example, in Maharashtra, researcher Rohan Kale has documented more than 2,000 stepwells, and explored their historical and geological relationships with local aquifers.
“Stepwells were not isolated structures,” says Jain. “They were part of an interconnected water network.”
She points to Jaipur as an example. Even its main intersections – Badi Chaupar and Chhoti Chaupar – were originally stepwells, connected to Jal Mahal and other water bodies.
“The entire water management of Jaipur worked as a network,” she adds.
This system began to collapse with the introduction of piped water under colonial rule in the late 19th century, a pattern repeated in many Indian cities.
Apart from their engineering, stepwells were also social spaces.
“Many were built as rest stops along travel routes,” explains Jain. “Over time, they became places where people gathered and formed communities.” Many were built by queens, including iconic structures such as Rani Ki Vav in Patan, Gujarat, which is often compared to an inverted temple. On March 31, Prime Minister Narendra Modi inaugurated a 3D projection mapping show at Rani Ki Vav, part of an event. ₹Heritage lighting project worth Rs 18 crore.
For Nupur Prothi Khanna, cultural landscape architect, the revival of these systems requires a paradigm shift in the way cities think about water.
“Historically, stepwells were ecological, cultural and social spaces shaped by topography, climate and community life,” she says.
Prothi, who has worked on water systems in Bhubaneswar and Khetri in Rajasthan, points out that traditional Indian cities do not separate nature from culture.
“These systems were designed with scientific precision – in their form, structure and even the number of steps – and they were also places where women socialized.”
He argues that modern planning must reconstruct that relationship.
“We think of water as something to be supplied and consumed,” she says. “But historically, it was the thread that tied together nature, culture and everyday life.”
Ancient knowledge, and its limits
Experts say that although traditional structures like stepwells may not meet the needs of modern cities, they provide an important, decentralized layer of water security.
“If properly revived, traditional systems can significantly meet the city’s water demand,” says Jain. “In an academic exercise, we found that they can meet about 20% to 25% of the local demand.”
Kutty advises caution.
“Their role is supportive rather than decisive,” he says. “They can reduce local flooding to some extent, improve recharge and stabilize groundwater levels, but they cannot meet the entire water demand of dense urban populations.”
Reviving these systems also comes with challenges. Many stepwells are connected to aquifers that have been depleted after decades of over-extraction. He points out that in dense cities, mapping underground water flows has become complicated due to layers of infrastructure.
“What seems like a simple recharge intervention can be surprisingly complex with a highly turbulent subsurface system,” says Kutty.
He says water quality is another concern. Without proper filtration, polluted runoff can turn these structures into sources of pollution rather than recharge.
For Kalpana Ramesh, the lesson is simple.
“We don’t need to re-invent anything,” she says. “These systems have existed for centuries. We just need to respect them, restore them properly, and make them relevant again for today’s needs.”
