‘Jhaard naa lide, machhar thaye chhe’ Read on to be enlightened

If ignorance was rampant and you didn’t notice it, make a trip to Vadodara Gujarat, the erstwhile kingdom of the mighty Gaekwads. A legacy so abused, that it would perhaps go down again in the annals of history, as a land ensnared by land sharks, peopled by callous strange,  superstitious people, especially when it comes to plants.

One often wonders how such an ironic paradox coexists, as the other side of the picture has the full of life, vibrant, vivacious, swearing by Navratri, globe-trotting, yet simple souls: happy revelling in dal-bhaat-saag-rotli. Generalised, though it may sound, twenty odd years is a long time to come to a conclusion, that most of them are anti-plants. Their oft heard, knee jerk reaction to a simple question like, “Why did you cut down that tree?’’ is simple and banal, “Well, mosquitoes are created here’’ (sic).  Not to mention their scant regard for cleanliness as a community, anything that is not consumed within the house, must go out. Where pray? One would be prompted to ask, out into the big bad world, is the equally prosaic retort, accompanied by a look that would put the most brilliant soul to shame.

Believe me when I say it, there is no hidden agenda, coy looks or hesitation, when it comes to dumping garbage. I have been at the receiving end of the most colourfully fluorescent, stinking pieces of kitchen leftovers, thrown over a wall, in your face literally, without anyone except the receiver batting so much as an eyelid. Kitchen waste may tax your waist or maximize it, but nothing compares to the unmentionables that find a place under your window and some absolutely embarrassing debris that you may step into if your neighbours have had a rollicking time if you know what I mean. Any passing mention to the need to perhaps incinerate or cast away their wastes in a proper manner falls on deaf ears and years thus pass by.   

This is certainly not aimed at any one community; it just talks of these strange creatures which people this land: A land that once boasted of a state of the art museum, a garden that was the envy of several in and around the city, a palace that was beyond compare, almost trivializing the Queen’s abode too. Today there are only remnants of this glorious past, not a single new addition in terms of a green space, worth its salt has been added since.    

Vadodara as the city was named, after the innumerable majestic vad trees  Banyan  tree: botanical name Ficus benghalensis), is today a sad reflection of itself. In spite of several endeavours by individuals and organisations to save trees, especially the ones that gave this beautiful city its name, the ground reality is far from encouraging.

What is even stranger, is the fact, that nothing earth shatteringly magnificent, in terms of public places and gardens has been added to the city except dastardly humungous structures called modern buildings and ghettos or gated communities that only a select few with large chunks of queerly begotten money, often times have access to.

Gone are the days when a common man could feel like a king or royal enough to partake of the pleasures that came along with an imperial lifestyle, one of them being lounging in well planned gardens or manicured public places. Perhaps the powers that be would like to learn a thing or two from older more maintained cities or take a page from some of the modern well laid out ones.

A quick scan of the city would reveal that none of this is an exaggeration or figment of anyone’s fertile imagination, but the bare crass truth. And what hurts the most, about this factual piece of information, is that this disease afflicts not the rural folk, as just about twenty kilometers outside the city limits the story is very different, but the urban populace, that primarily fall in the fifty plus age group.

No offense to anyone whatsoever, as distance, age, time, is just a number, but strangely this condition plagues the older generation as they have a lopsidedly convincing argument that somehow links the existence of trees to mosquitoes, and hence they need to be chopped off and replaced by stark, sanitised environs with a few ugly plastic plants thrown in, for sake of past memories. Another oft-repeated stance is, Gandvado thhaye chhe, pandla parde chhe—it creates dirt and leaves keep falling (to literally translate). Where goes the notion, picked up early in school or otherwise that plants help in cleansing the air, maintaining a balance, fallen leaves add to the much required ingredient for embellishing the top soil.

The arguments in favour could go on endlessly, but does anyone care to listen. Our ancestors believed in sowing for the future, so we reaped a beneficial harvest, what would we leave behind…stumps, tears and stark landscapes, gasping for breath, choking on our own deeds. ­­­  

 © Copyright Suverchala Kashyap