On the changing landscape and shifting of residence…

I render my apologies to all of you folks who have been motivating me to write more often and commenting on the slowing output of the blog entries. Not as an excuse, since I consider my writing seriously and will one day be hopefully sitting and gazing at the ocean and watching a sunset and nibbling away on a laptop, watching the sea gulls and the birds guarding the sea and lilting to the tunes of my mother’s ancient lullaby from those wonderful days of childhood; Huh( deep sigh !) – But I digress.

Moving into a new residence can be a tedious task, even if you are lying around in the couch and firing away orders to a group of thin wiry Bihari and Bengali packers chewing and sucking on their ‘khaini’. We shifted into another part of town near the buzzing M G Road and the busy Brigade road. In spite of the busy traffic and the proximity to thickly populated business streets, we are cushioned in the saddle of some aging greenery and large rain trees. The streets inside are more silent, has the everlasting dampness of the tree guarded denizen has the rare smell earth one has to consume and not write about. As the rain gods showered blessings in the last two days, the green gained in pulchritude and the jacarandas boasted their blossom, suddenly I felt I was in the Bangalore of the yesteryears when it was truly called the ‘Garden City’. Those days when your backyard had the Mayflower, Moulmein Rosewood, Hibiscus, Tabebuia, Silk Cotton, Indian Coral are just memories and we have to rely on the ‘Namma Metro’ to restore some of that green grandeur. For someone from Kerala, like me , greenery is no novelty but the sheer variation in the naturally found trees in Bangalore has been a matter of a queer inquisition. Lalbagh has managed to retain much of the old glory in spite of the plethora of vendors and the apathetic citizens trying their level best to tarnish the place with all sorts of waste being thrown around.

One of the ills of urbanization has been the children of this generation missing all the faun and flora. When we stayed in our apartment in Gurgaon which we were always talking of the day when we will have to show our daughter a ‘rain tree’ on Google and not take her one and bask in the wide shelter it gives to the on lookers. When I first considered Bangalore for relocation, I was warned of the nagging traffic and the disappearing trees and I must say that some of my earlier day trips to Bangalore have been excruciating on the count of traffic and have barely managed to reach the Domlur airport for the return flights in the evening. But the shift never felt so rewarding till the last few days at the new residence.

Today, a walk in search of the morning dew, preciously stored in the folds of leaves, is not a futile one. I can step out after a down pour and shake a branch to shower on me with the saved droplets. I can hear the odd bird chirp in glee inviting the rains. Little pleasures in the ‘garden city’ where I am yet to see a house with a garden …