The park phenomenon clears concrete bungle

Determined runners race past in furious concentration. Middle-aged women with sneakers peeping out from under their salwars shuffle along at a more sedate pace singly, or withfriends exchanging recipes and kitchen tips.On the grassy patches lone figures swing their bodies and flail their arms with quiet determination. Some sit in cross-legged meditation or walk up and down, up and down over the wet lawn. And still others face the rising sun with their own private forms of communion. Next door, the laughing club has finished its cheerful exertions. A cake is being sliced to celebrate a member’s birthday. Kiosks selling health juices (Amla, neem, ginger, karela and carrot) and packets of wheat grass have come up. Someone is distributing stalks of tulsi and kadi patta. The sound of laughter rings out mingling with greetings and talk of a picnic in the offing.

Later, as the sun travels its daily orbit, the morning worshippers will be replaced by young mothers and maids pushing prams or chasing toddlers over the grass. Young lovers will amble shyly towards their favourite spots. Girls in various shapes and sizes will stroll in cosy twosomes and the boys with sharp haircuts will sitharmlessly watching them. Then, as the sun begins its descent, the darkness will herald the arrival of a new lot. Office-goers with mobile phones in hand, muscular men with headbands and co-ordinated exercise gear and young women with earphones plugged into their ears…

From being shady places where only furtive lovers could meet or kids run amok, parks are suddenly emerging as the city’s health and community centres. Places where you could find kids, housewives, teenagers and working people all quietly immersed in their preferred activity. They have become informal clubs where old people can meet, exchange health tips, exercise, form new friendships, occupy themselves.

How has the change come about?

Simple. Parks, like movie halls, have gone upmarket. The good thing is that unlike move halls parks don’t charge much (though there were murmurs of protest some years ago when Bandra’s Joggers’ Park decided to levy a nominal entry fee). The difference is in attitude. Remember what made parks depressing inthe old days? It was the dirt and the lack of safety. Plastic wrappers, ice cream sticks, cigarette packets, pickpockets and eve teasers were hardly conducive to peace of mind. I can’t remember ever feeling secure enough to take a walk in a park in Mumbai alone. These days, however, parks have been taken over by a new crowd — an upper middle-class crowd, a more progressive crowd, and one that is more focused on health. And in parks such as the Colaba Woods or the Santacruz Lions’ Park, it is this focus that is setting the tone, whether it is with regard to dress, hygiene or acceptable behaviour.

The trend may appear to smack of elitism. But, as long as it creates safe, clean and cheap environments for everybody to enjoy, I think it is something to smile about.