The Ruins of Time

Anecdotes from The Past - VI

1990s, Alwal
On most Sunday evenings, when we were in our late teens and early twenties, Armstrong, Sunil, Sateesh, and I used to cross the main thoroughfare of Alwal to this new bakery store on the corner of S. Talkies to sample the puffs, cream rolls, fluffy bread buns, onion samosas, and sweet-smelling bakery biscuits and pastries.

Consequently, I developed a strong fancy for cream rolls, Sateesh for puffs, Armstrong for bakery biscuits and onion samosas, and Sunil for pastries. I sometimes overindulged in cream buns, often taking money from my mom to buy them from the new bakery. (If Raju had been with me in the 1990s, I'd have introduced him to my new friends Armstrong, Sunil, and Sateesh, and we'd have been lifelong friends.)

Then things changed, albeit a little slowly, in the mid-90s. Thanks to the economic liberalization of our country and unrestricted capital flowing, the corner bakery shop we frequented not very often had to close down — it, however, reopened in the inside lane and seemed to have flourished as one of the famous bakery shops in the locality and soon other clones were selling similar bakery stuff, but not as good as the first-ever bakery store of Alwal. But in the last three decades, with unrestricted capital flowing, a lot has changed in Alwal unrecognizably. There used to be garden-like spaces around the town—all that has disappeared completely. Cycling around is a strict no-no, and walking on the roads is like propagating a death wish, driving a vehicle is a hellish experience, and so on and so on. The old world charm that we loved, valued, and related to has disappeared, and in its place has come this new-age techno-digital life—about which the less said, the better it is—that has given rise to this phantasmagorical fear and anxiety that everything will ultimately collapse, nothing will be the same. Nothing remained the same except a handful of long-standing friendships, and everything else had become beyond reach or understanding.

Every year, an increasing number of Alwal's open spaces, vacant lots, and open lands are disappearing to feed the voracious appetite for housing development and ever-expanding new sections of roads, which has led to habitat loss and habitat destruction in the local ecosystem of the area. The few remaining plants and birds in our town and countryside are either dying or have vanished entirely, or whatever little is left exists in withered condition or dying. It breaks my heart to say that Alwal's breezy open spaces and landscapes have all vanished. Sparrows and crows are gone.

God, there is not a single sparrow in sight these days. Common crows have disappeared. Pigeons, who at once are coy-looking but quite aggressive, have taken over Alwal's landscape, leaving their excrement all over the buildings, parapets, patios, balconies, and railings! They have become a menace everywhere; you can hear them constantly cooing in a guttural manner on balcony parapets and in the nooks and crannies of buildings, eyeing everything that moves. The pigeon population has increased so much that it feels like we live in a jungle overrun by feral pigeons. Pigeons have taken over; they are in charge. Likewise, not to speak of the high-rise private, residential, and commercial buildings that have sprung up everywhere in every possible direction. The ever-growing human population and its materialistic consumerism have taken over everything, leaving no space for people to breathe in, move around freely, or play ball. Friends are parting, and friendships are dying because people have become excessively busy abusing Tabs, iPhones, and other high-tech digital devices to spend quality time together; personal relationships are also gradually deteriorating at a rate that is nothing but shocking to comprehend. People used to talk a lot more in the past generations, but not anymore in this hypersensitive era of techno kerfuffle—foolishly reckoning with the “mental inside” motto, moving over “intel inside.” As the 2000s went on, we became, I think, less argumentative as a society, becoming less aware of the benefits of having some time to spend in good conversations or engaging in meaningful debates. The question, however, did not change; it remained the same ever since the advent of free market capitalism in the early 1990s: Is this the kind of life we aspired to?

Ostentatious concrete houses, multi-storey apartments, and other towering constructions have unfairly occupied the lung spaces, permanently blocking the sunlight from coming. No one can salvage what little (or nothing) is left now. Human life, which is already miserable, is vanishing into infinite nothingness. Every vacant, unoccupied, available area, not to mention the open countryside, has been taken to turn them into elaborate plots for reckless housing developments. Tall stacks of towers that defy common sense and gravity, including all manner of ‘affordable housing' are built stratospherically upon them—a monotonous concrete ecosystem that constitutes Alwal town’s commercial and residential properties with the promise of high amenities! Not just a one- or two-floor plan for a private residence, but a minimum built-up area of three to four floors with a scandalous penthouse on top has become a compulsory need these days! What can anyone do to stem this rampant ‘development’ rot from spreading so widely in towns and the countryside? Nothing! The world will 'move on' with all its resident peccadilloes intact in people's minds. No one can stop anything from happening. Indeed, some stay sane, others become insane. Go nuts.

Children cannot play outside, and elderly senior citizens cannot go out for fear of being struck by a car or a speeding ass-hauling motorbike. (Sorry to use an expletive). Adults look around askance with contempt, unable to stop this humiliating ride of our human civilization, shameful inhumanity that hits them where it hurts every day, but helpless to change or do anything about it, they keep compromising their way of living or the way their life is going. The stress or tension of life is palpable everywhere, as it is throughout this rampantly being developed city; in Alwal, there is even a hint of viral phobia in the air when local goon-lords, who have been gymming up to flaunt their body heft, show up to hang out with their fellow brethren in the town square and create a mafia-like nuisance on Alwal's many roads leading to the inside colonies. 

Like everywhere else in this increasingly urbanized concrete jungle of a town that has gone from sleepy to frantically agitated, it's tough as hell out here. Only the ungrateful, bloody-minded, and ungraceful are allowed to live here; others must suffer the nightmare, one way or the other. The price you have to pay for being foolishly candid.

(To be continued…)

By Arindam Moulick