After retirement, when we moved into our own apartment in a newly built residential complex in a busy suburb of the city, with the surrounding land devoid of any constructions, we were thrilled that we had an unhindered view of the skyline and a free flow of air which would cool our interiors, figuratively. But we knew that the land was in a development zone and that sooner than later, we will be dwarfed by new tall buildings. The landscape of the building complex encompassed ornamental plants which would provide, when they grow, magnificent shade below them and turn into a green curtain to guard from inquisitive eyes.
From the balcony of our apartment, we would watch three young saplings, close to our tennis court, on the periphery, growing tall in a hurry. In just a couple of years, they grew into healthy young adults with a crop of green foliage blocking our view of the world below. We enjoyed the way the young trees would sway in the winds, their green leaves dancing in harmony.
The ornamental trees were a delight to watch. For the children of the complex, who would play merrily in the courtyard, the trees generously lent cool comfort from the evening sun. But all that ended abruptly when the residents’ association decided to cut the trees because their roots were said to be invading and damaging the paved court.
The woodcutters took less than an hour to trim the leaves of our trees and bring down the trunks in small pieces and cart them away. With the trees gone, we could clearly see from our balcony a new world that was existing just below them, in the small vacant area outside our compound, shielded till now from our wandering eyes.
Hidden from our view, there existed three small thatched huts, made of waste materials and covered with blue plastic sheets, close to each other; with life flourishing in a different mode than ours, but basically similar, in each of them.
As the sun rises slowly in the mornings, showering light and warmth to the rich and the poor alike, the people staying in the huts would already be up and about. While we, the apartment-dwellers, would wait for our house helps to stroll in one by one, start cleaning our flats and light the fireplaces to make our breakfast, the energetic hut-dwellers would have already started their day with gusto. The man of the house would stand near his hut sipping tea, while womenfolk would be busy cooking meals on improvised chulhas made of bricks placed diagonally, and lighted with twigs and refuse collected meticulously. By the time we would get ready for breakfast or lunch turned out by our helps, our neighbours would have finished their meals and would be on their way to worksites nearby where they, men and women, would sweat out to build luxury homes for those who could afford them. The daytime would be mostly quiet across the compound wall, but evenings would be a different story altogether, busy as they would be!
The best thing was to watch the children play. The children from our complex, some accompanied by nannies, would be playing with expensive toys and gadgets, or swinging in the comfortable swings erected in the sandpit. The children just across will have their own way to keep them amused with improvised toys and playthings such as a broken cycle, a piece of lumber converted into a bat and bits of cloth rolled into a mock ball. The smaller ones will oscillate in their make-do swings hung from the branch of a nearby tree, while the older ones would busy themselves playing with an adopted stray dog which seemed to be very happy in their company.
The contrast in living standards was obvious from the manner in which each community faced their days; but the baseline was the quotient of happiness. The removal of trees reminded us that life is the same whether one stays in a comfortable apartment complex or in thatched huts. What matters is the way we take on our life: the way we face our days.
Indeed, democracy and a growing economy have offered infinite opportunities for all to grow and develop into successful individuals and become useful members of our community. Hopefully, the children from our poor neighbourhood will grow into successful adults over time, and rise in society and in the economic hierarchy challenging the environment they are unfortunately placed. The view from our balcony, however, constantly reminds us that while we are blessed with comfortable apartments to live, the basic needs of a comfortable roof above one’s head and minimum community facilities are still a dream for many.
While we listen to our politicians and economists unabashedly claiming that we are the fifth largest economy in the world, somehow, the true “world” revealed by the absence of tree cover makes it, somehow, sound hollow.
thayyil_sethumadhavan@yahoo.com
