When Kambala — the traditional buffalo race of Karnataka’s coastal districts — arrives in Mysuru for the Dasara celebrations this October, it will bring with it far more than a sporting spectacle.
The state government’s decision to include the centuries-old tradition in the Dasara festivities has opened up an unusually layered debate: about whether a cultural practice can be separated from the landscape and social context that shaped it, about the constantly expanding character of Mysuru Dasara, and about the ecological cost of recreating a water-intensive rural sport in an urban setting.
For supporters, taking Kambala to Mysuru is an opportunity to showcase one of Karnataka’s best-known traditional sports before a much larger audience, including tourists from across India and abroad. They argue that traditions must evolve and reach new audiences if they are to survive.
For critics, however, Kambala is inseparable from the coastal landscape of Dakshina Kannada and Udupi — its paddy fields, agricultural cycle, monsoon and local cultural traditions. Bringing it to Mysuru, they argue, risks diluting the distinctive identities of both Kambala and Dasara.
And then there is the question of water.
The proposed event, scheduled for October 18 and 19, comes amid concerns over rainfall, drinking water and agricultural requirements in parts of Karnataka. Estimates of the water needed to create and maintain the artificial slush track vary sharply, with activists and water experts putting the requirement at anywhere between around 10 lakh litres and at least 25 lakh litres.
What might otherwise have been seen as another attraction on the Dasara calendar has therefore become a larger argument over culture, geography, ecology, public resources and identity.
HISTORY
Centuries ago: Emergence in Karnataka’s coastal paddy-growing regions, with links to agriculture, fertility rituals and harvest celebrations.
16th century: Kambala emerged as a recognised ritual tradition.
Traditional period: Buffaloes ran through slushy agricultural fields after the farming cycle.
1969–70: Beginning of modern competitive Kambala, with the introduction of permanent tracks.
1970s: Land reforms and the fragmentation of large paddy holdings contributed to a gradual shift from agricultural fields to organised race tracks.
1980s–90s: Expansion as a competitive spectator sport.
1989: Formation of the Kambala Samithi, bringing greater organisation and formal rules.
2014: Supreme Court judgment in AWBI v. A. Nagaraja, which led to restrictions on the use of bulls and buffaloes in races and entertainment.
2016: Karnataka High Court imposed an interim ban on Kambala.
2017: Karnataka amended the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals law to exempt Kambala.
2020: Kambala received nationwide attention following jockey Srinivasa Gowda’s widely publicised performance.
2023: First major Kambala event in Bengaluru, marking a significant expansion beyond the traditional coastal belt.
Today: A highly organised competitive sport that retains strong links with the cultural identity of coastal Karnataka.
What exactly is being proposed?
The state government has decided to organise Kambala as part of the Mysuru Dasara festivities, with the event scheduled for October 18 and 19. A sub-committee headed by the Zilla Panchayat CEO has been constituted to oversee the arrangements.
The proposed venue is in east Mysuru, where a cycle velodrome has also been proposed. A slush track of about 250 metres is being prepared, along with arrangements for spectators, parking, and the accommodation of buffaloes and their handlers. Around 130 pairs are said to have registered by August, while organisers had earlier spoken of participation involving more than 175 buffaloes.
Why did the site cause controversy?
Environmentalists alleged that trees had been felled at the site. The Forest Department subsequently registered an FIR over the alleged felling of 36 trees. Activists also raised concerns about a lake and the ecological value of the site.
Why is Kambala so important to the coast?
Kambala is not simply a spectacle in which buffaloes run through mud. Historically, it emerged from the agricultural landscape of coastal Karnataka, particularly the paddy-growing areas of Dakshina Kannada and Udupi. Its traditional form was closely associated with agriculture, fertility rituals and the community’s relationship with the land.
What does Kambala signify?
Folklorists point out that traditional Kambala was held after the agricultural cycle, with buffaloes running through fields that had already been ploughed and prepared for the next crop. In non-competitive Kambalas, rituals included worship, offerings and prayers for the fertility of the land.
Over time, Kambala evolved into a highly organised competitive sport. Timers, cameras, photo finishes and sophisticated race management have entered the arena. The professional Kambala calendar now generally runs from November to March, with more than 20 events across the coastal belt.
So, its popularity is no longer confined to paddy fields?
No. Supporters of the move argue that taking Kambala to Mysuru is not cultural displacement but cultural expansion. The organisers ask: Why should Kambala remain confined to the coast?
Puttur MLA Ashok Kumar Rai, one of the principal proponents of the Mysuru event, has rejected the criticism that Kambala would undermine Mysuru Dasara.
Rai has pointed out that the festival has expanded over the years to include Yuva Dasara, laser shows, air shows, orchestras and several new attractions. In that context, he argues, Kambala can become another major attraction rather than an assault on tradition.
The idea is to showcase Kambala to a larger audience, including domestic and international tourists visiting Mysuru during Dasara, without undermining the traditions associated with the festival.
What is the position of the Kambala community?
Karnataka State Kambala Association president Belapu Deviprasad Shetty has said stakeholders have agreed to participate. While around 125 pairs of animals were expected at one stage, registrations have since reportedly crossed 180.
For the Kambala community, the issue is also one of visibility and survival. As agricultural practices change, supporters argue that traditional sports need larger platforms if they are to remain relevant. They cite the success of the Bengaluru event to argue that there is an audience for Kambala outside its traditional heartland.
How is the impasse currently framed?
The supporters ask: If cricket can travel, why can’t Kambala?
The counter-question is equally fundamental: Does location matter to tradition?
What is the position of the erstwhile Mysuru royals?
Yaduveer Krishnadatta Chamaraja Wadiyar, MP, has emerged as one of the strongest political voices opposing the proposal.
His objection is not to Kambala itself. He has argued that it is a unique celebration of the coastal region, rooted in its soil and associated with religious rituals, and that using it as an exhibit during Dasara is inappropriate.
He wants the proposal reconsidered, arguing that both Kambala and Mysuru Dasara have distinct identities that should be preserved rather than blended merely for the sake of spectacle.
What is the opinion of various segments of society?
Heritage expert Dr N S Rangaraju says Kambala evolved in Dakshina Kannada as a traditional folk sport and should not be held as part of Mysuru Dasara.
Farmer leader Badagalapura Nagendra has clarified that the opposition is not to Kambala as a sport, but to its inclusion in the Mysuru Dasara celebrations.
Mysuru’s environmental groups have taken an especially strong position against the proposal. Members of Parisarakkagi Naavu and representatives of environmental, farmers’, Kannada and progressive organisations have decided to form an action committee against the event.
Social activist Ugranarasimhegowda has raised concerns about the ecological cost of creating an artificial Kambala landscape and the larger question of whether such an event is appropriate during a period of water stress.
Has the water argument found bigger resonance?
A report compiling activists’ claims estimated the event’s water requirement at about 10 lakh litres. But water expert Prof U N Ravikumar has put the figure at at least 25 lakh litres.
In coastal Karnataka, Kambala traditionally takes place in a landscape shaped by heavy monsoon rainfall and waterlogged agricultural fields. In Mysuru, however, water would have to be brought into an urban setting to recreate that environment.
Has this year’s monsoon stoked the debate further?
Yes. This year’s timing has made the issue more sensitive. Activists point to deficient southwest monsoon rainfall and concerns over drinking water and agricultural requirements. They argue that the government should prioritise farmers, water management and austerity rather than spending public money on an additional attraction.
The counterargument is that the event should not automatically be labelled wasteful without examining the source of the water, recycling arrangements and the actual requirement.
Is the treatment of animals also a sore point?
There is a separate debate around animal welfare.
Supporters argue that the sport has evolved under regulation and strict oversight and that buffalo owners invest heavily in the care, training, feeding and medical upkeep of their animals. They say the animals are carefully groomed and treated with affection and care outside the racing tracks, and that owners spend substantial sums on their upkeep.
Animal rights activists, however, allege that the animals are subjected to physical coercion and physiological distress during races. They claim to have documented instances of ropes threaded through the animals’ sensitive nasal septums being violently pulled to make them run at maximum speeds, sometimes causing visible injuries.
What have the government and the courts done about it?
In late 2016, the Karnataka High Court issued an interim order banning Kambala while a case involving PETA was pending. The order drew on the Supreme Court’s 2014 judgment in AWBI v. A. Nagaraja, which dealt with the use of animals in sporting and entertainment events.
Following mass protests against the ban, the Karnataka government in early 2017 passed the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (Karnataka Amendment) Bill, 2017, providing legal protection to Kambala and bullock-cart racing.
The Supreme Court subsequently upheld the amendment. In March 2026, it also rejected an attempt by People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) India to confine Kambala to Dakshina Kannada and Udupi, removing a major legal obstacle to its expansion elsewhere in Karnataka.
What happens next?
The government has already moved from proposal to preparation. The dates of October 18–19 have been announced, a committee has been constituted and work at the venue has begun.
At the same time, the action committee comprising various Mysuru organisations has threatened protests and legal action. Yaduveer has reiterated his opposition and extended support to the protest groups.
What are the government’s options?
The government is faced with three larger questions:
* Can Kambala be showcased outside coastal Karnataka without diminishing its cultural meaning?
* Can an artificial slush track be created in Mysuru without an unacceptable ecological and water footprint?
* Should a festival as historically distinctive as Mysuru Dasara continually expand by absorbing traditions that already have strong identities of their own?
There is no simple answer. For the Kambala fraternity, Mysuru offers a new stage. For its critics, the stage itself is the problem.