

Located in Mahendra Hills, Hill Top Colony sprawls on the natural slope of the plateau, unlike many of Hyderabad's north-western neighbourhoods, where the terrain has been levelled.
Credit: Vanshika Singh
In the north east of Hyderabad, Hill Top Colony rises and falls across a rocky plateau that once shaped the city's landscape. Long before expressways, glass towers and the IT corridor transformed Hyderabad's skyline, settlements here adapted to slopes and rocky outcrops, growing with the terrain rather than over it. As the city expanded and modern infrastructure drew attention elsewhere, neighbourhoods like Hill Top Colony remained on the margins, carrying the burdens of uneven urban development.
For Ankuti Siva, one of the colony's young residents, the greatest challenge was not finding opportunity in the city. It was getting home. His family settled in Hill Top Colony nearly three decades ago, gradually building their home room by room, much like countless families in self-built settlements across Indian cities. Ankuti was expected to go further than his parents, earn more, travel farther, and build a more secure future. Yet the final stretch home often remained the most difficult part of his day.
The last mile home in Hill Top Colony: a steep, broken descent where exposed pipes, loose stone and monsoon runoff turn everyday mobility into negotiation with water, waste and gravity.
Credit: Vanshika Singh
Every monsoon, the narrow path leading to his house became a negotiation with water. The steep descent was uneven and vulnerable to erosion. Exposed water pipes ran along the slope, frequently leaking onto the pathway. Loose stones and broken concrete shifted underfoot. During heavy rains, rainwater mixed with wastewater and sewage before rushing downhill, entering homes, weakening plinths and making movement hazardous.
The route that connected Ankuti to the opportunities of a growing city often became a source of risk, delay and uncertainty. A simple journey home could mean navigating slippery ground, contaminated water and damaged infrastructure.
For Ankuti and many others living in similar settlements across Hyderabad, this is not an occasional inconvenience but an everyday reality. Here, mobility is about more than moving from one place to another. It is a constant negotiation with water, waste and gravity, revealing how fragile urban infrastructure can become when climate pressures and uneven development collide.
In Hyderabad’s dense neighbourhoods, the street becomes home, market and workshop at once.
Credit: Vanshika Singh
Nestled in Mahendra Hills, Hill Top Colony is not an isolated case. The broken pathway outside Ankuti's home reflects a wider reality across India's cities, where water shapes mobility, health, livelihoods and access to essential services.
A municipal water pipeline runs down the hillside, supplying water for only a short period on alternate days. The line frequently leaks. During the monsoon, rainwater gathers speed as it moves downhill, carrying wastewater and occasionally sewage through narrow pathways. The same routes used for walking often become channels for water flow. Homes face repeated flooding, foundations weaken, and daily routines are disrupted.
Hyderabad’s neighbourhoods revealing both everyday ingenuity and infrastructural fragility.
Credit: Vanshika Singh
Across India's self-built settlements, similar conditions play out in different ways. In Mumbai's chawls, Delhi's resettlement colonies, Bengaluru's informal layouts and countless other neighbourhoods, communities have grown gradually while infrastructure has struggled to keep pace. Homes expand room by room, livelihoods spill into public space and local institutions quietly fill gaps left by formal systems.
Architects and co-founders of the School of Environment and Architecture (SEA), Rupali Gupte and Prasad Shetty describe the ability of such neighbourhoods to function despite weak formal support as a form of transactional capacity. In practice, it is visible in the countless adjustments residents make every day, extending thresholds for shade, creating workspaces where none exist and repurposing ordinary structures to meet multiple needs.
Yet there are limits to what communities can absorb on their own. When sewage repeatedly backs up, monsoon runoff erodes pathways and foundations, and dampness spreads through homes, the burden of constant repair becomes exhausting. The challenge is not simply how to replace these efforts with new solutions. It is how to strengthen the knowledge and practices that already help neighbourhoods live with water-related risks.
Children navigate the steep, rubble-strewn lanes of Hill Top Colony, pushing a bicycle uphill beside exposed water pipes where gravity, infrastructure and everyday life converge.
Credit: Vanshika Singh
Learning from everyday resilience
Across settlements like Hill Top Colony, residents constantly respond to water-related challenges. These responses may appear small, but they often reflect a deep understanding of how water moves through homes, streets and neighbourhoods. Recognising this everyday knowledge became the starting point for Retro Lab, an experimental learning programme convened by Hyderabad Urban Lab in September 2025 in collaboration with the Wipro Foundation.
For Bhashwati Sengupta, Director of Hyderabad Urban Lab, the purpose was not to generate grand solutions but to understand how people already respond to recurring challenges. "When we ask for solutions, we ask in ways that are already too rigid, too defined, often outside the milieu of imagination of young people in our cities. We frame problems at a scale that makes everyday intelligence invisible," she observed.
Small plates between the steps slow the flow of rainwater, guiding it gently into the drainage channel and onward to storage tanks.
Credit: Vanshika Singh
Participants spoke about flooding through lived experience rather than technical language. Ali and Bilal, volunteers with SAFA Bait ul Maal, a community organisation working on education, emergency relief and neighbourhood welfare in Hyderabad's Old City, spoke about flooding in their localities. Ali lives in Karmanghat, where low lying streets remain vulnerable during heavy rainfall, while Bilal comes from Chaderghat, an older settlement along the Musi River.
Their suggestion was simple: raise the plinth at the entrance of homes. Even a small increase in height can slow the entry of floodwater and buy valuable time before water reaches living spaces. The idea emerged after intense rainfall in late September flooded several neighbourhoods and renewed concerns about rising water levels in the Musi.
Young women participating in the discussions highlighted another challenge. During flooding and sewage overflows, important documents such as school certificates, ration cards, hospital records and identity papers are often damaged. Since women are frequently responsible for safeguarding these documents, many suggested wall mounted racks placed higher above the usual flood line.
Others spoke about the difficulties of living with persistent dampness. In densely built neighbourhoods where sunlight is limited, clothes and bedding often remain wet long after the rains have ended. Participants proposed simple mesh enclosures in verandahs that would improve air circulation while protecting garments from dust and maintaining privacy.
A raised threshold. A document rack. A drying space. Each reflected a detailed understanding of water's behaviour, where it collects, how high it rises and the disruptions it leaves behind.
Transformation in the adjacent lane (before and after) by GHMC
Credits: Vanshika Singh
Seeing cities as sponges
These conversations pointed towards a broader question: how can cities work with water instead of constantly trying to push it away? Across many settlements, residents already slow, store and redirect water through small modifications to homes and streets. These everyday practices echo the principles behind the growing idea of sponge cities.
Independent climate policy researcher Kabeer Arora believes this practical knowledge offers important lessons. "For me, sponging is not a greenfield mega project for our cities. Our cities grow in incremental and often informal ways. They are always in flux. This means we have to retrofit the idea of a sponge in many shapes and forms. Porosity is not only about groundwater percolation. It is also about how we hold water that would otherwise leak out of the system and how we make it available or manageable when needed. It is about reducing waste, creating value with minimum resources and building local solutions that work with the indigenous logic of our different city spaces," he says.
For Anant Maringanti, Founder of Hyderabad Urban Lab, this requires a shift in perspective. "We need to create a patchwork of innovations by respecting community insights, rather than solving problems creatively without understanding what actually ails people," he notes. In Hill Top Colony, that philosophy would soon take shape through a modest intervention that transformed both water management and everyday life.
Mockup of Project Jalam’s integrated design
Credit: Vanshika Singh
Jalam: Repairing a slope, restoring water security
The ideas that emerged through Retro Lab highlighted an important lesson: meaningful change often begins by understanding how water behaves in everyday spaces. In Hill Top Colony, those lessons would soon find practical expression through Project Jalam.
The initiative began in 2021 when Hyderabad Urban Lab launched the Water Plus and Minus Challenge with support from the Wipro Foundation. Architecture and design students were invited to develop small, implementable interventions for neighbourhoods facing chronic water and waste-related risks. Hill Top Colony quickly emerged as a priority site.
Built on a steep slope in Mahendra Hills, the settlement reflects many of the challenges associated with Hyderabad's rocky plateau landscape. During heavy rainfall, water gathers speed as it travels downhill across compacted ground. Narrow unpaved lanes serve simultaneously as walkways and drainage routes.
Homes are densely packed along the slope, leaving little space for infrastructure improvements. Over time, increasing density and unplanned construction have forced runoff, wastewater, sewage and everyday movement to compete for the same limited space.
Water supply was equally fragile. A municipal drinking water pipeline ran from the top of the hill to the bottom, exposed along the slope and prone to leakage whenever water was released. Residents received water for only about twenty minutes on alternate days and often depended on private tankers to meet their needs. Smaller household connections crisscrossed the hillside, creating a network of exposed pipes that residents navigated daily. These pipes frequently broke, causing additional leaks and creating hazards along already difficult pathways.
A maze of exposed pipes and narrow lanes on the hillside reflected the everyday water challenges faced by residents of Hill Top Colony.
Credits: Vanshika Singh
Drainage failures compounded the problem. With no clearly defined channels for stormwater or greywater, water moved unpredictably downhill. During the monsoon, pathways turned into muddy streams carrying rainwater, wastewater and, at times, sewage. Blockages upstream often resulted in flooding further down the slope. Slippery surfaces, irregular waste collection and limited public services made everyday life increasingly difficult. On one side stood the retaining wall of a neighbourhood Buddha Vihar, while the steep terrain constrained movement on the other.
It was within this landscape of risk that Team Jalam, a six member group from Aurora's Design Institute comprising Punna Nithish, Manish Anand, Yedla Surender, Bhati Divyansh, Alankritha Khoshekay and Srija Diddi, developed a proposal that approached water, access and safety as interconnected challenges rather than separate problems.
The team focused on a section of the slope that experienced persistent waterlogging. Instead of designing individual solutions for drainage, mobility and leaking pipelines, they asked a simple question: could a staircase also help manage water?
Their design combined a stepped pathway with a central ‘U’- shaped channel running alongside it. The channel was designed to collect both stormwater runoff and leakage from the drinking water pipeline, directing the water towards community storage tanks at the bottom of the slope. Specially designed plates placed between the steps slowed the movement of water, reducing erosion and allowing runoff to enter the drainage channel gradually. During heavy rainfall, excess water could be safely diverted rather than rushing unchecked through the settlement.
The intervention transformed water from a recurring hazard into a resource that could be managed. Water that once flowed downhill as a muddy and contaminated stream was intercepted, slowed and redirected.
The project relied on simple, locally available materials. Tandur stone was used for the steps, brick for the risers and precast concrete for the storage tank. Under the mentorship of P. N. Praveen, the team worked closely with local conditions and community needs to ensure the design complemented the terrain rather than attempting to reshape it.
In a context where infrastructure projects are often large, expensive and distant from residents' realities, Project Jalam demonstrated the value of precise, neighbourhood-scale interventions. As Praveen explains, "When something works at the scale of the neighbourhood, people notice. Even the municipality notices." His observation proved accurate. Elements of the stepped drainage system were later adopted by the Greater Hyderabad Municipal Corporation in a nearby lane, allowing lessons from the project to travel beyond the original site.
Activating a social life along with a sponge city
Credit: Vanshika Singh
More than a staircase
The impact of Project Jalam extended well beyond improved drainage and safer movement. The staircase was designed not only as infrastructure but also as a shared community space. Eight granite aarugus, or seating ledges, were installed along the pathway, creating places to pause, meet and rest. Before construction began, three tractor loads of accumulated waste were cleared from the site. Residents later selected the plants that now line the slope.
What had once been a hazardous passage gradually became part of the social life of the neighbourhood. Earlier, community interactions were largely confined to flatter areas of the settlement. By improving access, managing water flow and creating places to gather, the project made the slope itself a usable public space.
For women, who often carried water containers and navigated unsafe pathways daily, the improvements brought immediate relief. Safer access and more organised water management reduced both physical strain and everyday risk. Lakshmi, who lives midway up the slope, vividly remembers the monsoons before the intervention. "When it rained, we would not step out. The mud would slide. We were always afraid of falling."
Today, the staircase offers a very different experience. "Now they run up and down," she says, pointing to children moving along the steps. "Earlier, we would shout at them to stay inside." The aarugus have become informal gathering spaces where residents sit, talk and watch over children during the evenings.
The improvements have also changed how people collect water. "When the supply came, we had to rush," recalls another resident. "The ground would be wet, and we were carrying heavy cans. One slip and everything would fall." With stabilised pathways and organised drainage, movement during water collection is safer and less stressful. Leaks are directed into the system rather than pooling beneath residents' feet.
For another resident, the value of the project extends beyond water and safety. "Water, yes. Safety, yes. But also sitting!" she laughs. "Don't we deserve some breathing space too?" The seating areas now fill with residents during hot afternoons and evenings, providing much needed relief and opportunities for social interaction.
The project also altered perceptions of the neighbourhood itself. "Earlier, people would hesitate to come here," says one resident. "Relatives complained about the climb." For Ankuti Siva, that change carried unexpected significance. "Because the approach to my house looked dangerous, no one wanted to risk giving their daughter to me."
Today, the improved pathway, organised drainage and safer surroundings have transformed not only movement through the settlement but also how the community is viewed by outsiders. Project Jalam demonstrates that managing water is not only about reducing flood risk. It is also about creating safer neighbourhoods, strengthening social connections and restoring dignity to everyday life.
Aerial view of Hill Top Colony, where dense, incrementally built homes align along narrow lanes that double as circulation and drainage, revealing the tight grain and sloped urban fabric within which Project Jalam intervened.
Credit: Vanshika Singh
What cities can learn from Hill Top Colony
Project Jalam did not eliminate flooding, solve water scarcity or replace the need for major investments in urban infrastructure. What it demonstrated was that relatively modest interventions can significantly reduce water-related risks when they are rooted in local realities.
The project succeeded because it responded to the way water actually moved through the neighbourhood. It addressed leaking pipelines, unmanaged runoff, unsafe pathways and the daily challenges residents faced during the monsoon. As P. N. Praveen reflects, "On a slope, water does not forgive. If you misread the gradient, it will show you."
The design evolved through observation, testing and refinement. Some ideas were discarded and others adapted. What emerged was not a universal model but a solution shaped by the terrain, water flows and lived experiences of Hill Top Colony.
Yet the conditions that shaped Project Jalam are common across Hyderabad and many other Indian cities. Settlements continue to expand along slopes, low-lying areas and environmentally vulnerable landscapes where residents contend with flooding, erosion, leaking infrastructure and water scarcity. In these neighbourhoods, drains, pathways, plinths and pipes become the tools through which communities manage water and reduce risk.
Project Jalam shows that climate resilience cannot depend solely on large infrastructure projects. Major drainage systems, water supply networks and city-wide planning remain essential, but resilience is also built through neighbourhood interventions that strengthen existing community knowledge.
Implemented at a cost of approximately ₹1.75 lakh through Hyderabad Urban Lab's Water Plus and Minus Challenge, supported by the Wipro Foundation, the project highlights the value of investing in small, place-based improvements shaped by local experience. The challenge is often not only a lack of funding but also a lack of attention to the small repairs and adjustments that can make everyday life safer and more secure.
Following the path of water
Water follows gravity. It finds cracks, exposes weaknesses and reveals inequalities embedded within urban systems. In Hill Top Colony, it once rushed down a broken slope, carrying sewage, eroding pathways and turning Ankuti Siva's journey home into a daily risk.
Today, Ankuti still takes the same route home. The city above has changed. The slope beneath his feet has changed too. But perhaps the most important difference is that the path no longer fights the water. It works with it.
Today, that same slope tells a different story. The staircase does not stop the rain. It does not solve Hyderabad's wider water challenges. But it shows what becomes possible when cities pay attention to how water moves through neighbourhoods and how residents have learnt to live with it.
As climate extremes intensify, Indian cities will need major investments in drainage, water supply and flood management. They will also need something less visible but equally important: the willingness to learn from communities that understand these challenges not through reports or projections, but through everyday experience.
Hill Top Colony reminds us that meaningful change often begins at the neighbourhood scale. It begins by listening to residents who know where water collects, where pathways fail and where simple interventions can make the greatest difference. For Ankuti, the journey home is no longer defined by fear of slipping on muddy ground or navigating contaminated water after every storm. The path that once symbolised neglect now reflects care, attention and possibility.
And perhaps that is the most important lesson of all. Climate resilience is not always built through grand projects or sweeping plans. Sometimes it begins with a community, a careful repair and a staircase that teaches water where to go while helping people find their way home.
Disclaimers:
Grateful to Hyderabad Urban Lab and the Project Jalam team for their generous insights, documentation and conversations that shaped this story.
This story is produced as part of the India Water Portal Regional Story Fellowship 2025.