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| The footpath between Park Avenue and Subhash Bose Park |
The Park Avenue in Ernakulam is flanked by gigantic
rain trees with their branches arching over the road like a cathedral of green.
They were not so domineering four decades ago when I used to walk beneath their
growing canopies. The Park Avenue with its charming, enormous trees has a
history too.
King Rama Varma of Kochi ordered
trees to be planted on either side of the road and make it look like a European
avenue. He also developed a park beside it. The park was named after him,
though today it is divided into two parts, with one part named after Subhash
Chandra Bose and the other after Indira Gandhi. We can never say how long
Indira Gandhi’s name will remain there. Even Sardar Patel, whom the right wing
apparently admires, was ousted from the world’s biggest cricket stadium which
was renamed Narendra Modi Stadium by Narendra Modi.
Renaming places and roads and
institutions is one of the favourite pastimes of the present dispensation in
Delhi. Rewriting history is a concomitant one. I titled this series Re-exploring
the Past intentionally. It is not rewriting of the past that any wise
leader will do; it is re-exploring. Since the name Park Avenue was given
to the road by the British Resident of Kochi, that may be changed too if Modi’s
party comes to power in Kerala.
Maharaja Rajarishi Rama Varma didn’t
plant those trees in order to prove any cultural superiority. He imagined an
elegant road in the heart of the city. He envisioned shade, beauty, and
generosity. The trees grew and the city allowed them to grow – season after
season, ruler after ruler, generation after generation. They stand today not as
monuments to a glorious past, but as evidence that the most enduring legacies
are created for those who come after us, not for those who went before.
India’s current obsession with
rushing back into a curated past in order to enhance the nation’s image felt
strangely out of tune with what I witnessed In Kochi. I walked from one end of
the Park Avenue to the other and onward to Kochi’s water metro station from
where an airconditioned boat carried me gently over the rippling waters of the
Vembanad Lake to Fort Kochi which had a past that was never perfect, never
pure, never singular. It was a past as mixed and unpredictable as the winds
that brought ships from Arabia, China, and Europe.
The rain trees on the road beautified
by an Indian King and christened by a British Resident became a metaphor for me.
Those vast canopies are made possible only because they kept reaching outward.
Not inward, digging up the tombs of the past, but stretching out and welcoming
myriad birds, providing shade to strangers, sheltering conversations, and
weaving sunlight into lace. They accepted the rains, winds, salt, and dust –
and still grew.
Fort Kochi did the same. Traders and
preachers, ideas and faiths, ambitions and anxieties, all met on that shore of
the Arabian Ocean. Kochi’s greatness never lay in guarding a past but in
welcoming a world. Its history is a mosaic, not a manuscript. Its spirit is a
breeze, not a boundary.
I had to cut short my visit because
it was getting late and I had travelled entirely by public transport which
would take a lot of time to carry me back home where Maggie would be waiting
after her return from school. Once again I was on an airconditioned boat of
Kochi’s water metro service.
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| Pontoon |
As I waited off the pontoon for my boat to arrive, I struck up a light conversation with the little schoolboy who sat by my side. He was on a tour from school along with his friends and teachers. They came from a government school in the Western Ghats of Kerala and were now on the way back. The boy said he was amazed by the size of the waterbody as well as the boats and ships that floated on it. The world he had witnessed that day was a wonder for him. Will India offer him more wonders as he grows up? Will India stop looking inward searching for lost glories, and start reaching out to a world whose wonders can be more accessible to this little boy whose heart had acquired some dreams from Fort Kochi?
Concluded



Thanks for the raintree story of Rama Varma and the Resident, And your longings for an Alliance of Civilizations.
ReplyDeleteHari OM
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely, lyrical finish to your mini-series, Tom-bhai! You brought us along on your trip, as well as adding to our knowledge and appreciation of a place that encapsulates the cosmopolitan possibilities that some would seek to shut down... YAM xx