Located in Kancha Gachibowli, a biodiversity-rich stretch in the city’s bustling IT corridor, the land has become the subject of heated public, political and legal debate after the Telangana government announced plans to auction it off for an IT park project.
The state claims it will bring in ₹50,000 crore in investment and create over 5 lakh jobs. Protestors say it will destroy a vital urban forest—and they’re not backing down.
Supreme Court pauses bulldozers, for now
The state’s move to send in 50 earthmovers to begin clearing the land in late March led to a sudden escalation. Protests intensified, 53 students were detained, and legal petitions began flying.
In a dramatic turn, the Supreme Court on April 4 took suo motu cognisance of the issue and ordered an immediate halt to all deforestation activity, calling the situation “alarming.” It directed the Telangana government to explain the urgency behind the clearances and appointed a central empowered committee to submit a ground report by April 16.
While the Telangana High Court had already issued an interim stay the day before, the apex court’s intervention has brought a temporary but significant pause. Still, much hinges on the upcoming hearings—and on what the committee reports.
Political ripples
Sensing public anger, Chief Minister A Revanth Reddy quickly formed a committee of ministers to “consult all stakeholders,” including the university, civil society, and student groups. But the damage may already be done. Both the BJP and the BRS—now in opposition—have seized the opportunity to attack the Congress-led government, accusing it of “environmental vandalism” and disregarding student voices.
Meenakshi Natarajan, AICC’s in-charge for Telangana, also waded into the controversy this weekend, urging the state to hold talks and wait for the Supreme Court’s ruling before making any further decisions. “The government should listen to all objections,” a senior Congress leader told PTI, adding that consultations will begin soon. Notably, two of the ministers on the committee—Mallu Bhatti Vikramarka and D Sridhar Babu—are UoH alumni themselves.
The land, the law, and the legacy
The legal battle over the land dates back to 2003, when the then-Andhra Pradesh government handed it over to a private sports firm. It was reclaimed in 2006 after no progress was made, sparking litigation that eventually ended with the Supreme Court affirming the state’s ownership.
But ownership is only part of the issue.
The 400-acre stretch is not notified as forest land, nor has it been demarcated clearly. Yet it is part of the UoH’s larger green belt, which serves as an ecological buffer in the rapidly urbanising IT hub. Citing the landmark Godavarman judgment, student activists and conservationists argue that any area with significant forest cover—even if not notified—falls under the legal definition of a forest and should be protected.
Groups like Save City Forest allege that clearing forest land without an Environmental Impact Assessment or wildlife clearance is a violation of multiple laws. Some activists have even called for the land to be declared a National Park, drawing parallels with Hyderabad’s KBR Park, which was protected in the 1990s despite being in the middle of a commercial zone.
What’s next?
In the coming days, several threads will play out simultaneously. The Supreme Court will examine the ground report and hear from the Telangana government. The High Court is scheduled to resume hearings on April 7. Meanwhile, the student protests continue, and civil society groups are expected to meet the ministerial committee.
The Centre has also asked the Telangana Forest Department to submit a factual report on the alleged violations. A probe into possible breaches of the Forest Conservation Act and wildlife laws is underway.
With elections on the horizon and tempers running high, the government finds itself in a tough spot. It must weigh its ambitious development goals against growing environmental and public backlash—and the watchful eye of the courts.
As Hyderabad reimagines its future as a global tech hub, Kancha Gachibowli has emerged as a test case: Can progress and preservation coexist? Or will the city’s last forests be sacrificed at the altar of infrastructure? The answer, it seems, is still up for debate.
