My OperaAn hour in a park.
Friday, April 8, 2011 3:54:11 PM
How perfect are our parks to offer you that one hour of relaxing? Pairs of college goers landing up to spend an intimate moment that stretches for hours together is common sight. I am not against their right. But you have to visit a park to see it for yourself how savage, uncivilized and indescent their manner is. I am unable to comprehend how they can be so indifferent and passive to the presence of others especially of elderly persons of their parents' age! Cannot they do it in their privacy and not in a public place?
Then come two o'clock and hundreds of daily labourers working around throng the place for their mid-day meal. Drinking water is available in the park. They bring their own food with them the odour of which you may not be used to. They also put this occasion to good use when they respond to the call of nature the Indian way in the open to the full view of the public that would put any visitors to shame. After a short nap in the park when they leave, the park is full with the leftovers, leaves used for serving food and paper cartons used to bring food.
Then of course there are the support staff using their eternal fiefdom to add to your woe. The places you find suitable are also the places they find suitable and so are always occupied by them.
Then their are the other regulars. Try going to a park for a few days and you will find the same set of visitors(read beggers) making their appearence exactly at the same time. They are not only regular and punctual, they are very helpful too. If you don't have change to give them they will offer to change it for you even if it is a five hundred rupee note. I remember once one of them lent me his cell phone. I don't know how he guessed that I had forgotten to take it with me and offered to help.
Among the other regulars are the flower pickers. Almost always they are someone of some support staff. I was surprised to see their keen observation. The tiniest bud never escapes their notice. I have heard that they get good price in the market and the support staff have their percentage.
If you are still not driven away then face the late regulars. They come with bottles and ganja. Don't know who else join them still later but one thing for sure, it must have been a smokey, dizzy and dreamy affair which no sane person would like to see.
Things are not always as bleak as I have made them out to be. On days of national celebrations they wear a new look. Sometimes ministers visit them. The police accompanying them sanitise the place by driving away commonners like you and me. They garland the statue of some great soul which is invariably there in a park. They even distribute sweets to the regulars who come in new attires. They announce grants for the developement of the park.
Once the minister leaves the place reverts back to its normal mode, bottles come back and the statue of the great soul, witness to all these, again becomes the favourite urinal of old.
Then come two o'clock and hundreds of daily labourers working around throng the place for their mid-day meal. Drinking water is available in the park. They bring their own food with them the odour of which you may not be used to. They also put this occasion to good use when they respond to the call of nature the Indian way in the open to the full view of the public that would put any visitors to shame. After a short nap in the park when they leave, the park is full with the leftovers, leaves used for serving food and paper cartons used to bring food.
Then of course there are the support staff using their eternal fiefdom to add to your woe. The places you find suitable are also the places they find suitable and so are always occupied by them.
Then their are the other regulars. Try going to a park for a few days and you will find the same set of visitors(read beggers) making their appearence exactly at the same time. They are not only regular and punctual, they are very helpful too. If you don't have change to give them they will offer to change it for you even if it is a five hundred rupee note. I remember once one of them lent me his cell phone. I don't know how he guessed that I had forgotten to take it with me and offered to help.
Among the other regulars are the flower pickers. Almost always they are someone of some support staff. I was surprised to see their keen observation. The tiniest bud never escapes their notice. I have heard that they get good price in the market and the support staff have their percentage.
If you are still not driven away then face the late regulars. They come with bottles and ganja. Don't know who else join them still later but one thing for sure, it must have been a smokey, dizzy and dreamy affair which no sane person would like to see.
Things are not always as bleak as I have made them out to be. On days of national celebrations they wear a new look. Sometimes ministers visit them. The police accompanying them sanitise the place by driving away commonners like you and me. They garland the statue of some great soul which is invariably there in a park. They even distribute sweets to the regulars who come in new attires. They announce grants for the developement of the park.
Once the minister leaves the place reverts back to its normal mode, bottles come back and the statue of the great soul, witness to all these, again becomes the favourite urinal of old.
