Comparing the parks

I was coming to the close of a 36 hour journey by train to Kerala. I woke up to the loud cries of tea and coffee vendors from the wayside station. The day was just breaking out and I .strained my neck to get the first glimpse of the God’s own country. For the last 24 hours, I have seen nothing but the wide expanse of arid, land and I was dying to see a patch of greenery. The long stretches of paddy fields, bordered with coconut palms, and the winding rivulets --------But what awaited me was a rude shock------most of the paddy fields have been converted into brick kilns. A few had even been filled up to make way for construction works. Kerala is the only state where the Chamba rice is cultivated and consumed too. At this rate Keralites will have to import patented Champa rice from elsewhere very soon or is it an indication of the changing food habits of Keralites? You don’t have to go far searching for the reasons for the dwindling paddy cultivation. It could be the vagaries of monsoon, rocketing rise in the cost of production, and of course the absence of farm labourers, a fall out of hundred per cent literacy. .

Edappally, Chengampuzha Park

Once I reach Kerala, I make it a point to visit all the temples in the vicinity. My house comes just behind the Park which is named after the great Romantic poet of Kerala. Four roads converge behind the Park and it is there that I normally decide which deity should get precedence that particular day. Of late, I have come to notice lots of non-malayali men and women, mostly from Tamil Nadu, Bihar and U.P., squatting on the side walk. Later on, they are being picked up in trucks to be transported to distant places as casual labourers. Absence of work in their own villages might have driven them to this distant land to try their luck. This floating tribe of labourers definitely fills the gap left by the Malayalee work force who migrate to other countries in search of greener pastures. But one can not be oblivious to the fact that there is a dearth for skilled workers in Kerala. Coming from a city that is crumbling due to constant siege by outsiders, I was more concerned about the outcome this unbridled influx can bring about in the socio-cultural and civic side of Kerala life. I was instantly transported to a scene in Mumbai

Mumbai- Kaifi Azmi Park

In Mumbai, I daily go for a walk in a park, dedicated to the well known Hindi poet and lyricist Kaifi Azmi The entire road leading up to the Park, is lined by small shanties occupied by construction workers. While walking, I peep into those shanties, just being curious of how they live. They don’t have electricity, water connection, no separate rooms, not even a proper door. But every house has an abundance of toddlers, all of them playing on the street, bathing, eating and defecating in the open. They don’t attend any school as they lead a wandering life. I used to think that the least their parents can do under the circumstance is to limit the family. But then I remember, apart from booze, procreation is the only recreation they have in their lives. As unobtrusively as they existed, they disappeared too one fine day, to set up their shanties at some other place. Mumbai is growing into the sky, but its slums are also ever expanding. And an average Mumbaikar seems to be proud in having Dharavi, Asia ’s largest slums which is a haven for all anti social elements.

And I wondered whether Kerala can cope up with the problems of mushrooming slums!