Is it worth destroying lush green lands, fertile farmlands, vital water bodies, and the livelihoods of thousands?

What’s the use of development when the environment bears the brunt?

In Tamil Nadu, Farmers have been protesting for over 900 days. The protest began in August 2022 when the Union government announced the selection of Parandur as the site for Chennai's second airport. Residents from 13 villages, including Ekanapuram, have been participating in daily demonstrations, expressing concerns over land acquisition, displacement, and environmental impact.

Every day, they gather, demanding justice not just for themselves, but for the land, the water, and future generations.

Before we know the full details, let us know the beauty of those areas that are chosen for the airport.

The Beauty of Parandur and Madurai

Parandur isn’t just a patch of land, it’s a landscape woven with life. Lush paddy fields, serene lakes, and centuries-old trees make it a green haven that breathes for its people. Its rural charm is untouched, its water bodies sacred to both culture and agriculture.

Madurai, on the other hand, is more than just a city; it’s the soul of Tamil Nadu. Known as the "Temple City," it holds centuries of heritage within its ancient streets, vibrant festivals, and spiritual sanctuaries. The surrounding villages, with their open skies and simple lives, pulse with harmony between nature and community.

To uproot all this for concrete and airstrips isn’t just development, it’s devastation cloaked in progress.

Why is The Protest Happening?

The protest in Parandur is rooted in deep fears of losing land, identity, and the future. The proposed Greenfield airport project requires over 5,700 acres of land across 13 villages. For many residents, especially in Ekanapuram, this land isn’t just property, it's home, heritage, and livelihood.

Farmers fear the loss of fertile agricultural land, crucial water bodies, and a way of life that’s been sustained for generations. They question the environmental impact, the fairness of compensation, and whether their voices truly matter in the name of "development.”

In Madurai, similar concerns fuel the protests. Residents of Chinna Udaippu village are resisting airport expansion plans that threaten to displace them without proper rehabilitation.

This isn’t just a fight for land, it’s a fight for dignity, environment, and justice.

What the Government Says?

The Tamil Nadu and Central governments have defended the airport projects as essential infrastructure for future growth. With air traffic expected to rise exponentially, especially in metro cities like Chennai and key cultural hubs like Madurai, officials argue that expanding aviation capacity is not just timely, it’s necessary.

For Parandur, the Tamil Nadu Industrial Development Corporation (TIDCO) and Airports Authority of India (AAI) conducted site assessments and selected the location based on factors like accessibility, available land, and lower population density compared to alternative sites like Pannur.

The government claims that Parandur offers strategic advantages, proximity to the upcoming Bengaluru-Chennai Expressway, good railway connectivity, and space for future expansion.

To address public concerns, the state has promised:

• Compensation 3.5 times the market value of the land acquired.
• Alternative housing for displaced families.
• Employment opportunities for affected locals.
• Environmentally conscious development with minimal ecological disruption.

In Madurai, the state clarified that the airport expansion is critical to making the city a major regional travel hub. Officials claim that over 500 acres have already been secured, and they’re in dialogue with residents to resolve conflicts.

Yet, many villagers feel these measures are either insufficient or not delivered with transparency. “How can you price memories, soil, and the shade of a tree my grandfather planted?” a protester asked.

The Bigger Picture!

Development is necessary, but not at the cost of the environment. The protest is more than the land; it shows a mirror reflecting a larger issue: the clash between infrastructure development and environmental justice.

Tamil Nadu is more than a state, it’s a tapestry of rich history, vibrant culture, and timeless traditions. From the towering temples of Madurai and Thanjavur to the classical rhythms of Carnatic music and Bharatanatyam, it celebrates art in its purest form.

It’s a land of fertile plains, ancient rivers like the Kaveri, and thriving agriculture. Tamil Nadu feeds the nation with its rice, sugarcane, bananas, and more, nurtured by generations of dedicated farmers.

The state is also a modern powerhouse, leading in industries like textiles, automobiles, and IT. But at its heart, Tamil Nadu is rooted in its soil, fiercely protective of its environment, its language, and its people’s rights.

So much at stake - for an airport?

Why must development come at the cost of the environment?

It’s not just happening in Tamil Nadu it’s happening everywhere. Even the Mumbai government proposed taking 256 acres of salt pan land for redevelopment, putting fragile ecosystems and communities at risk.

Aren’t there sustainable ways to develop?

There’s no objection to redevelopment, but not at the cost of human livelihoods, the breathing scenery people call home, and the inheritance meant for future generations. We need airports, roads, and industries, yes. But we also need farms, forests, and families who aren’t displaced in the name of advancement. Why should progress come with such a heavy price tag?

True progress is inclusive. It listens, it learns, and it adapts. Development that flattens generations of heritage, uproots centuries-old trees, and silences the pulse of rural life is not progress - it’s loss, masked in the language of growth.

These protests are not merely acts of resistance. They are calls for compassion. For planners, politicians, and people to pause and reflect: What kind of world are we building if it means demolishing the one we were gifted?

If our green spaces vanish today in the name of development, what will be left for future generations to see stories in books, fading photographs, or memories in protests?

We owe it to the future to protect what still breathes today. The question is no longer whether we grow, but whether we grow responsibly, ethically, and sustainably, without sacrificing the soul of the land and the spirit of its people.

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