Not generalising, but I have walked on many roads in India. And if you walk on an average road in India, you see the whole world is there. Cars, buses, trucks, cows, dogs, in some parts even horses and camels, dust, broken pavements because of bikes taking a shortcut through the footpaths that were meant for pedestrians, and somewhere on the edge of these footpaths are the pedestrians too. A handkerchief covering their nose due to dust or heat, walking with no complaints. Or maybe there were complaints earlier but now they have simply been absorbed into the sudden holes in the pavement wherein an iron grid was placed for storm water to pass even while maintaining the road walkable. These are all people who are either rushing to work, going shopping, or somewhere else important enough for them, but are walking with no complaints. Manoeuvring like it’s just another day.
More recently I have been walking on the roads and parks of Sydney. They are all well-kept. There is a well maintained footpath, traffic lights at every street, wide or narrow doesn’t matter, there are cars, cyclists, buses, trucks, trams, leashed dogs, and pedestrians on roads but not on each road and street are all of these present. Then there are trees, many of them, and in this season of the year they are blooming with flowers. The purple pockets of Jacaranda, the red and yellow pockets of a few other trees whose names I don’t know yet, add a beauty that is heavenly. There is no dust. Yet some people do wear masks, although for what reason, I don’t know. But in these two contrasting places is one thing common, the people here too are self-absorbed, unaware of this beautiful order around them. It maybe because for them this is nothing new, the things should be this way and since they are it doesn’t catch your attention in a manner like it catches mine. I don’t see anyone else on the roads admiring the Jacaranda flowers on the trees and the ones fallen on the ground like I do, only to have see yesterday another person to be taking a video of the trees through his mobile. He too seemed to be from Indian subcontinent, or other south-east Asian countries, or likewise. We were both spellbound. I think he too may have come here recently and was simply fascinated by what we were seeing.
It all made me think, how do things that persist for a long time, become so common that we forget their presence. We become unaware of its importance or unaware of the pains it is causing us. And it led me to thinking of much bigger things than urban planning things in a city to things that happen in our lives, our families, our country. If you are so much loved or ignored in your family, it eventually becomes your everyday reality wherein you forget about its meaning in terms of both care or pain. You take it for granted. This goes on for everything, from the love of your parents, to the presence of amenities, to disrespect from family, to the lack of amenities, everything. Nothing is extraordinary or bothersome if it has been there since forever. But what if it vanishes suddenly? How would we feel then? Well certainly the sudden presence of a dust-free footpath will be more than welcome, the missing Jacaranda will make the world go still, at least mine for now.
