Brave parks and Dusty minds

My blog/FB friend, MS Gopal aka Slogan Murugan,has an amazing photoblog called Mumbai Paused, dedicated to , basically, the real non airconditioned, rushing, trying-to-make-the-best-of-it , Mumbai. His latest photos in his blogpost about Shivaji Park, is about a "Defined Green Open Space" in the Western suburb of Dadar, in Mumbai. 

Shivaji Park, was decreed as an open playground , by the Municipal authorities (then British) in 1925.  As MSGopal says ,"The gardens, parks and maidans in our part of the world - Indian subcontinent and the Persian influenced world before the British took over were never like the European ones with their beautiful green temperate grass. Our parks and gardens are decorated with flowering and shade giving trees. The ground was always dusty."

Today with expensive sprinklers installed, the ground, overrun with several sports existing cheek by jowl  at the same time on the same ground, the water is simply not enough.

Like our society,  a few rich green well tended patches exist.  The middle class suburb of Mumbai, with houses , gardens, and a sensible ethos, has now accelerated into a place where houses are "redeveloped " into high rises with swimmingpools way up there, parking is a problem, the ground is ravaged by political parties digging indiscriminately to put up temporary set ups, holding public meetings to point fingers at each other and applause to themselves.    At the end of the day, misdirected priorities rule, and dreams of the ordinary folks simply go up in, what else, dust.....

(All photos by Slogan Murugan)

At the end of the day,
it's all about water,
isnt it ?

Four and Six lane
Hema-Malini-cheek-roads
for Sir and Madam
yet fanning themselves
inside an AC car,
while Gangubai trudges
across a narrow clearing
5 kms down the hill,
balancing her four pots,
her worries and her sanity.

And so
buildings reaching the sky,
with infinite pools,
on the 45th floor,
where page-3 folks
display poses and attitudes,
and a hankering for liquid,
not fit to print,
while
down below,
the dusty maidan
with running scraped knees and shouts,
remembers,
how there is no money for water,
but lots of it
to dig poles in the ground,
and erect
wordy statues to self
under shamianas
with paid applauders.

Today , we use grounds
to play games
of a different type...

Sunflowers & Meduvadas

About 15 years ago , we were travelling towards Aurangabad by train, and early morning saw our train chugging past big fields of sunflowers. A small voice, nose pressed against the window, piped up , " Mom ! we've learned about this in class ! Sunflowers ! For oilseeds ! To make oil for cooking ! Wow!".......

All that came rushing back when I saw these photographs (they look much nicer in the original post) taken by my blogger friend Swaram, as part of her Wordless Wednesdays!

That probably explains the fried meduvadas......

(photo by Swaram)

So many
golden children,
proudly standing
and waving
with their green mothers,
amazingly anchored
to the soil
of the motherland.

A bit closer,
and you see
them share
and share alike
the richness of the earth,
the support of the
verdant green,
and
the benevolence
of the sky.

Bend down
to talk to one,
and you see
the bright eyes,
amidst the
yellow halo,
some red
from squinting at the sun,
some dark and serious in intent,
and some tiny ones,
way inside,
with great designs
for a wonderful life,
not as a flower
in their mother's bun,
but as a wonderful medium,
so she can make meduvadas for them….

Sun Soliloquies....

So many of my blogger friends participate in something called Skywatch Friday, and post wonderful pictures from around the world.

Closer to home, we have Magiceye, who revels in the Mumbai skies. For more of his work, check here.

One such, a disturbed setting sun, as seen from Bandra East.

(Bandra is a northern suburb of Mumbai, off Mumbai's western coastline, where much development is happening, in the form of Sea Link Bridges for the higher motoring classes, and Skywalks on the east side for the hoi-polloi. Much below, people continue to get their little joys from sitting on the rocks near the sea, or watching the trains zoom around, as they sit outside their one room tenements, while some others toast each other with champagne and crib about the airconditioning....)


(photograph by magiceye/damembal)
Peering wishfully,
from above the
dusty trees,
staying put
in the sky,
filled
with dark foreboding,
He watches
the empty
Bandra East skywalk,
the gutted slums below,
humanity
pouring out
of stuffed trains,
and then wonders
about
the
San Francisco clone
Sea link,
where paid travels
in four swanky wheels
are OK,
but pedestrians
on two feet
are barred;
and
a city
where
hi fi
mingling
and entangling,
in
entry fee clubs
is applauded,
but
two,
out to
meet each other
in
their only open space
on the rocks,
cause an arrest.

He looks
upward at the sky,
moving away
from
the threatening clouds.

A last glance over the trees,
and its time to drown
the depression
in the salty
waters,
to try again
tomorrow...