Monthly Archives: December 2014

Where are you? I think Almost Home!

Home! What do you mean by ‘home’? Is there a place which I can call home? In past seven- eight years, I have stayed in different cities. Can they all be called home? No, if not, how will I do justice with the end number of houses I’ve stayed in? The questions like these always popped up in my mind. But one fine evening they all were sorted.  Let’s call all those spaces, cities “Almost Home”.

An unknown visitor in the café informed me about a reading happening in British Council. According to her, it was a worth attending event. Why? Because they serve wine once the event is over. My mind pondered over the fact that ‘they serve wine’. Not a bad idea and not worth missing. I asked her- what are they going to read. Something of Githa Hariharan! Hmmm.

Githa Hariharan, I have heard that name before. Is she not the same woman who wrote something about Scheherazade?

Looking forward for a glass of wine in British Council, I went to attend the reading. After reaching there, I came to know that it is a release of Githa’s non-fiction book “Almost Home” and there is no wine. They are just serving tea with sweet biscuits. Ah, fine.

‘Almost Home’, is an author’s perception of spaces, people, memories and conflicts. It’s the same book and author who have helped me evolve an answer to all the questions, I had. Being at home is more to do with mind than physical space.

You are born in a city, have parents, siblings, friends, fuck-buddies and foes all there. Still you don’t feel at home! And you can’t be unjust to that city, as it has given you a lot, call it ‘Almost Home’.

Getting back to the book, it has everything what a curious geographer looks for.

There are cities, there is a certain character to that cities, there is history, there is conflict, there is hope, there is love, there are heartburns and most important there are stories. Stories of those who have lived generations ago, stories of those who are living and creating memories now…

The essence of the book is captured in the following quote:

Cities don’t stand still, even for old flames. When you meet a city again, there is an awkward reunion. You have to relearn its body, see it with two competing eyes, past and present.”

In the book one hears the age old love stories from the times of Moors’ Spain, gets a chance to meet the ‘worthy triumvate’- ‘Ibn Rushd the Muslim, Moses Maimonides the Jew and Thomas Aquinas the Christian’- standing together, hand in hand, deed in deed, a chance to visit Ramallah and Srinagar in the same breath and yes, be back to Delhi a city which belongs to no one in particular but still home to many.

Who does the city belong to? Isn’t that question settled once for all?

“Who does the city belong to?” It is the first question asked in every classroom, lecture, seminar, workshop, conference on urban planning and management. Isn’t the answer to it too obvious and settled once for all? Or are we not asking question for the sake of questioning? Probably, we are. City is for its people. City belongs to its people, its citizenry. The root of word citizen is certainly city. “Who does the city belongs to?” is not a relevant question any more. What we need to ask ourselves is how we are going to meander through the interest of various social groupings based on caste, class, religion and other criteria, without losing the essence of diversity in a city.

In the “neo-liberal” times of ours, as they say, there is growing anxiety to reclaim public spaces. The reclamation narrative has a particular tone and language attached which belongs to those who are affluent.  It seems that there is a conscious effort to ensure that there is uniformity in the character of reclamation.

Sometimes I feel that this urban space reclamation is a new fad of upper middle class and middle class artsy fartsy people. What reclamation, it is all gentrification, isn’t it? They shall reclaim spaces from ‘authorities’ and those who run ‘illegitimate businesses’, yes, while reclaiming they all be superbly nostalgic about past, which probably was not very different from present in so many ways.

To add to my ramblings, almost every second or third day, late in the night around 1 -2 am while passing through Hosur road I see “working class” women standing and waiting for trucks to come and pick up the garlands they have made during the day. Aren’t the roads and city unsafe for them at those late hours? They too take that challenge of being out at late hours and most of the times ‘Unaccompanied’ by men. But their struggle is not worth celebrating as a part of mission urban reclamation, it is only when few middle class and upper middle class women who declare themselves to be feminists move around late in the night under the ambit of ‪#‎whyloiter campaign that we shall applaud.

While I don’t intend to question the legitimacy of such campaigns, they have their own place in our societies. And let me also acknowledge they at times do change perceptions but their view is too narrow and restricted. All that is fine, but, what I don’t understand, why is picking waste from streets of the city at four in the morning and selling it later for recycling, or loading garlands in the trucks at two in the night not a tactic to lay claim over the city- a way to make cities safe.

Remember Jane Jacobs, eyes on street? Leave aside appreciating; it is not even worth acknowledging, for man such campaign organizers- these women don’t even exist. Or if they do, it is too banal- for our always out on street but still arm chair activists! Not so juicy story for sold out still claiming to be independent and free media.

There I end in the middle as I’ve to go out to reclaim the city during the midnight hour! Yes, the city belongs to me, to you and others too. It belongs to those who loiter, it belongs to those who pick waste, it belongs to those who have already slept, those who are drunk and smoking their heart out, it also belongs to those who are assaulting and those who are being assaulted. Maybe the last part is too much, but isn’t it true? ‘Who does the city belong to?’