10-Aug-2005
9 th August 2005
I am back at the promenade today. As I am crossing from the road to reach to the promenade, I become aware that the promenade and the busy road are two worlds which exist simultaneously. Both the worlds are completely different and yet, they exist side by side. As I sit on the promenade wall, I watch the traffic movement and the timing of every signal. There is such regularity and continuity on the road. The cars pass by at regular intervals and the traffic signals operate at regular intervals with the cars coming to a halt. There is a kind of order which operates on the roads. While on the promenade, the order is of a different kind, not governed by traffic signals. There is no chaos even, but a subtle order. There is some kind of self regulation which produces order for the promenade and the people as a whole. I find this very interesting.
Time operates in a different way on the road and in a different way on the promenade. I cannot make much statements about this as of now, but I need to watch more carefully to come up with any observations.
As I sit on the promenade, somehow my love affair with this city begins once again. I spot Kinjal, younger sister of my once-upon-a-time college buddy. “I come here to jog regularly. See how much weight I have put on,” Kinjal tells me. After a while, she sets off. First she walks, then she does a bit of warm-up and finally, she is off jogging! As I watch her go away, I think of the fact that the space of the promenade is a regularity in some people’s lives. It is becoming a regularity in my life as I visit each day and make observations (and conclusions). It is a regular feature of the golden haired sexy lady who jogs with her dog regularly. It is a regular feature for Mr. Thakkar. Similarly, the railway station is a regular feature in a lot of people’s everyday lives. Yet, there is, I am certain, a distinct distinction between the regularity of the promenade space and the regularity of the railway station space in people’s life – and maybe that distinction is a matter of both time and space and also speed. At this point, I am wondering whether spaces become boring for people. What does the promenade space mean for people who live on
I start watching people again. There is a young gal who is trying hard to pull the leash and get her dog to follow her. I think her weight is beyond that of the huge doggy! It looks funny. There is another man with a somber look on his face who is walking with his doggy. There is the sexy golden haired lady who is socializing with some people along with her doggy.
Amidst all of this, there is a little girl of about six years, in a pram. She is being ferried around by a man and a woman. She has weak bones and is lying in a paralysed manner in the pram. Her eyes are set on the road and of her head which is clumsily placed, it seems that her brains are still working and she is processing something. I am not certain about her condition but practically everyone sitting on the promenade wall, watching her, is filled with pity and fear simultaneously – pity at her condition and fear of what if this happens to each one of them. The mind is such an entity and in the city, I believe that the mind takes on a different character, conditioned by elements of space and time. (Now, maybe I am obsessive space-ialist and time-ologist!)
I continue watching, my sense of focus somewhat lost. I am myself feeling lost, again trying to acquaint myself with the space of the promenade. I see a girl walking by and I am sure I know her, except that she is much thinner than I knew she was. I shout out to her and she is surprised. We start chatting, having met after a couple of years. “What are you doing here?” she asks me. I reply and put the same question before her. “I have also come here for purposes of research. Earlier, when I used to wear skimpy clothes and come to the promenade, no one bothered to look at me. But now, after the rape incident, I see that everyone is watching me. Things have changed.” I listen to her. We continue chatting, catching up on news, stories and gossips. After a point, we are both quiet. “Look there,” she points out to me, “There is a little boy there, peeing before the tree. Should I start boo-booing him or just let it be?” she asked. “Let it be,” I replied, watching keenly, “the little fellow seems to be enjoying himself and the experience.” And truly, he was happily peeing away, savouring each moment of the experience. For that instant, my mind wandered to the fact of nakedness and civilization. Back in Uruli Kanchan, when we women had to shed out clothes for treatment purposes, everyone would be hesitant, as if shedding clothes meant exposing something deeper than the body. Nakedness is condemned and here is this little fellow who cannot care and why should he? I think he shouldn’t. We have anyway created enough discriminations in our society!
My friend and I decide to move after a while. It was an interesting day at the promenade today.