Karnataka has long worn its forests as a crown, steeped in folklore, sanctified in song, and stitched into its cultural identity. None captured this reverence better than cultural icon and cinema legend Dr Rajkumar, whose evergreen lines, “Naaviruva Thaanave Gandhada Gudi. Andada Gudi Gandhada Gudi. Chandada Gudi Srigandhada Gudi,” remain etched in the Kannada psyche. These words weren’t just poetic tributes—they were declarations of love for the sacred groves of this land.

At the heart of this green devotion lies Bengaluru. Now known for its traffic and tech parks, the city once breathed through its 35 forest blocks, spread across 11,000 acres and notified last in 1932 by the Maharaja of Mysore. Each of these forests—Kadugodi, Peenya, Anekal, Arekere, Avalahalli, Bannerghatta, Turahalli—have a thriving ecosystem, now mostly pushed to the margins by expanding roads and rising skylines.

The city’s shrinking green cover has been a long-standing concern, sparking large-scale citizen protests over the decades. The latest wave of resistance is unfolding in Kadugodi, where residents, environmentalists, and civic groups are rallying to protect what remains of a forest that once symbolised Bengaluru’s ecological soul.

Read more: It’s been a long and difficult struggle to preserve Bengaluru’s trees

Legal disputes and jurisdictional conflicts

Kadugodi forest has long been entangled in legal disputes involving multiple stakeholders— including the Forest Department, KIADB, BMRCL and private entities. While the Karnataka High Court ruled that the land belongs to the state government, it did not specify departmental jurisdiction, leading to further disputes. The Forest Department is now preparing to file a curative petition in the Supreme Court to reclaim undeveloped land and resolve jurisdictional ambiguities.

The legal battle is the latest chapter in this quiet but persistent conflict between development and conservation unfolding in Kadugodi, a forest with deep roots in the region’s history. In 1896, 711 acres of forest land were officially handed over to the state as Reserve Forest—an act of preservation before “green” became a buzzword. Over a century later, the forest still stood tall, but in 2021, only 177 acres remained in the official records. Of this, a mere 22.5 acres was carved out as the Kadugodi Tree Park—a compromise between conservation and urban expansion.

Missing the woods for the trees

But this “tree park” has become a flashpoint. Residents and environmentalists allege that the forest has been slowly chipped away, its boundaries blurred under encroachment pressures, with parts eyed for developmental projects. Roads slicing through tree cover and constructions nibbling at the edges. Yet, for many, this is not just about saving trees—it is about preserving a living legacy, a rare urban lung space that still supports jackals, peacocks, and an entire web of life.

What does a city lose when it loses its lung spaces

A study by the Indian Institute of Technology, Kharagpur, analysed Bengaluru’s urban expansion and how it affected surface temperatures, explaining why Bengaluru’s climate is no longer cool.  

The impact of cutting down the trees in the few remaining forests, threatens the area on multiple fronts:

• Air Quality:
  • Fewer trees → reduced oxygen production, CO₂ sequestration, and removal of pollutants (PM2.5, NO₂).
  • Bengaluru’s dwindling green cover is already linked to increased air pollution and warming. 
• Micro-climate insights from the Heat Data Jam:
  • Unplanned urban development and rapid industrialisation have triggered severe heat island effects in several Bengaluru wards. The Heat Data Jam revealed striking local variations—Peenya, for instance, recorded land surface temperatures nearly 12°C higher than cooler wards, making it a major outlier. Loss of shade, expansion of factories, and inadequate green buffers are driving this extreme heat.
  • In Garudachar Palya, Whitefield’s IT corridor, nearly 80% of the ward is built-up, with only 1.115 sq km of tree cover. This sparse vegetation is a key factor behind elevated land surface temperatures, further compounding thermal discomfort for residents and workers alike.
• Groundwater and water table:
  • Trees enhance rain infiltration; without them, more runoff leads to lower groundwater recharge.
  • Bengaluru’s groundwater has fallen due to urbanisation and shrinking water bodies. 
• Ecology:
  • Urban forests, green spaces and waterbodies/wetlands don’t belong to just humans; they are part of the local ecosystem, and in some cases, part of a global ecosystem. Habitat loss for birds, insects, and smaller animals disrupts the local food web and biodiversity.

Also read:

•  Why a shrinking Bannerghatta forest should worry Bengalureans
• 5,000 trees to go for widening roads around Bengaluru, says Forest Dept. But is that all?
• How 15 citizens are building about 8000 sq m of forests in Bengaluru