Delhi is green in its own way,
with parks and gardens all around. Garden’s with their history and Park’s
with their political significance. I remember growing up in the winding streets
of Ballimaran, a very significant colony and one with its own history, within
the confined walls of the Old City. It might not be green any more but my
grandfather told me about how a small canal, designed to reflect moon
light used to run right through the main road of Chandni Chowk, and accompanied
trees along with it.
History always sounds more colourful
when you hear about it from those who have lived through it. It’s far better
than books. As a child I use to accompany my grandfather for morning walks to Shanti Van and Rajghat, and my maternal grandfather to Budda Garden during my
vacations, or whenever he was in town. Back then I never understood the
significance of waking up early and smelling the fresh dew on grass and leaves.
I still don’t wake up that early but whenever I do, I make a point of taking
a walk, even if I have to drive down to Lodhi Garden or sometimes take an
evening stroll at the lawns of Raj Path.
The official month for spring in
Delhi is April, but you start noticing its arrival from late February onwards. If
you do indulge in morning walks you will agree with me, that there is nothing
better than to witness, the dull brown of tress camouflage themselves with luscious
green leaves and thorn bushes to fabricate flowers of varied colours.
Few years ago my father bought an
apartment in South Delhi which overlooked an uninhabited piece of land with trees
growing in their own rural fashion. It isn't much of a view but the tiny green
leaves glitter with even the slightest hint of sunlight after a fresh shower. The
chirping sparrows on their branches would add the most beautiful sound effect
to its picture perfect splendour.
Winter rains can be depressing,
and my balcony overlooking that one tree is the only place that consoles me. When
everyone runs for shelter it just stands there, lowering its thin branches with
the pressure of the wind, to protects the nest of birds that dwell on them. After, it stands back tall again. It looks as if it has nowhere else to go. Where
will a tree go, if it wanted to? A tree has the same needs as any other living
specie; food and air, but it seldom grows in parts of the world where its needs are not met. And where it grows with its own choice it never asks anyone to
gather its resources.
A tree never stops growing, and
never complains about the weather, the children who play underneath it, nor of
the other species who benefit from its fruits or even its essence as a whole. Come
winter and it raises its bare hands to pray to God, come summer and it lowers
them with generosity, to share the gifts of nature.
Take inspiration, be the green
with significance.
