Growing City

After four weeks in the city, I would have given anything to see a variation, an anomaly! All of us who have detested India for its squalor and desiness are all smiles, for this is a breath of the Occident in the Orient. But if only buildings and names could change psyche. If only wearing a pair of jeans and a trendy T-shirt make us more open-minded. And the veneer thickens. For an outsider, the city becomes a paradox. And a lonely place. The city and it8217;s teenagers live in a world of their own. Whether from the backwaters of the neighbouring states or residents of Chandigarh itself, the influence of the media seems stronger than that of Mom and Dad.

Caught between two cultures; and theirs8217; is a unique culture too. One that has nothing to do with India on the exterior and another, that has nothing to do with the West, in the interior. Could be a case of mass schizophrenia! You get a lost feeling sometimes, perhaps because the city too, in a way, is lost. Planned and built, with people coming from various places, 1956 saw the birth of an experiment. In a country where the dialect changes after a drive of every 100 km, people were suddenly having strangers8217; as neighbours.. It was the city of an architect and a prime ministers dream.

It was the post 8217;47 dream of India; to go from the rural to the urban, become industrialised and Western. One city had to succeed 8211; a nations dream stood by it. You look at the city so intently because you want to touch it, feel it8217;s heart somewhere. You search for the soul. I guess when you run into a new person, the first thing that strikes you is the physical aspect. But after a few meetings, when you touch the soul, your outlook at the physicality also changes.

Cities, too, can be defined that way.,with a character 8211; a pulse 8211; that you can lay your hand on. A few weeks in The City Beautiful8217; and the hollowness resounds loud. Stagnated to a point where you could physically put your hands on it. What you feel like doing is to hold its shoulder and try and shake it 8211; hard. Shake off the stupor.

A city which has not the fast pulse of Bombay, where everyone runs because walking would take too long. A city unlike Delhi, which is coming to terms with what the new India has started looking inexplicably confused. This is perhaps a city trying to be something it really is not. Maybe it is a microcosm of the way we all have been caught in this crossfire of globalisation8217; and internet making the world a village.8217; Statements that were thrown about casually, but never studied with regard to the individuals who are always the final product of any mass-media campaign. A city you can perhaps grow to love, a city which is a reflection of our inner struggles: to cross over to the new beckoning cultures, or to stay home. A city of questions and perhaps, one fine day, of our answers.

The writer is a sub-editor with The Indian Express.