As the human population continues to swell, the world's supply of freshwater dwindles. We are drawing from an already limited pool: less than one per cent of the earth’s freshwater is directly accessible, most of it locked up in glaciers and polar ice. According to the
Pacific Institute, humanity uses, on average, about 7% of the available freshwater every year, a percentage that climbs to 40% in India. The volume of annual rain in many countries, including India (~
3,000 cubic km) luckily still dwarfs human water usage (by about a factor of five in India) but this of course makes local communities anxious hostages to the rain gods.
Our increasing demand for fresh water, and our tendency to cluster ever-more densely around its sources, are not good news for freshwater habitats such as rivers and lakes. These come under a depressingly diverse range of pressures. Natural river courses are toyed with, and dammed as the ultimate insult; pollution pours in from both urban and rural practises; motorboat traffic tears at the shoreline and riverbank; and exploitative hunting and fishing can turn a waterway into a graveyard. Even the most sacred stretches of India’s revered Ganga are not spared: in Varanasi, raw sewage and industrial waste spew into the river from over 30 outlets, raising the faecal coliform count by a factor of 25, to 1.5 million counts/100ml at the city’s downstream limit, according to Mishra, 2005.