The birds were making a row. They were really loud and definitely not singing. Having been startled out of my sleep, I looked at the clock and saw that it was just 5:45. I hoped these early birds got their worms and tried to go back to sleep. But they continued to get louder as more of them were now joining the chorus. It was a raucous sort of symphony. Maybe it was music to this particular species, but I am sure the cuckoo would have disagreed.
I continued to lie in bed and stared at the ceiling fan whose noise was being drowned out by the birds. But there was something soothing about the fan and I was just dozing off again when there was a new sound that startled me. This was from a woman who was selling greens of various types from a pushcart. She was rousing the residents of this block of flats to see if any of them were interested in purchasing the vegetables. It was just after 6 O’clock, but resistance was clearly pointless. So I got off the bed and walked into the bathroom.
Through the window in the bathroom, I could hear the water running in the bathrooms in the neighbouring apartments. The cacophonous symphony outside was being joined by an increasing number of performers – the water pump that filled the overhead tank, a tanker of water on the street, the traffic from the main street a block away punctuated by the honking of horns every few seconds and early morning television. When I came out of the bathroom and walked into the living room, someone on TV was lecturing on the importance of following dharma. I went out to the balcony where the cool early morning air was as refreshing as the hot coffee my wife had handed me. I sat down on a chair and surveyed the scene outside.
In a city that was plagued by water shortages, there was no dearth of greenery. In fact, no one would have guessed that this city was starved of water. Many thoroughfares were lined with large rain trees or other shade-giving trees. Coconut palms and mango trees could be found in every lot with a house or even a block of flats. The noisy birds that woke me up were no doubt perched somewhere on the mango tree in the corner of the compound.
The main street just a block away was no exception. There was an entire section of the street that got no sunlight as it was under the heavy canopy of the trees. I decided to take a walk down that road and so quickly got dressed and legged it there. Given the early hour, the traffic was light. The shops were yet to open and I was able to walk without bumping into the usual throngs. I could even step on to the road without fearing for my life and cross the road at the intersections. When it gets really busy, I sometimes think that the safest way to cross this road is to engage an auto rickshaw.
While walking down the street, the tops of buildings are blocked by the trees and you may well imagine that the years have done nothing to them. But change has actually been continuous over the years. Most of the buildings have been renovated, expanded and thoroughly modernized. The shops are glitzier with many international brands being sold, the buildings are taller and even the sidewalk shops have more upscale ware for sale now. There is a divider in the middle of the road ensuring more orderly (as much as possible!) traffic flow and preventing pedestrians from crossing the road.
It is impossible to describe the complete transformation that has taken place here. I wondered how it was that some shops had remained unchanged with all the building boom. The barber shop, the little pharmacy, the small shop that offered to frame your pictures, and the shop that sells coffee beans and powder – these had somehow escaped the trend. The flower shops with garlands of roses hanging are still around to provide a pleasantly cooling fragrance as you walk past them and the vegetable market and fruit shops are very much part of the scene as always. It is actually amazing that while so much on this road has changed over the years, the trees are still in place.
I could see that the activity was picking up now. Milk and newspaper delivery boys were returning from their rounds. The vegetable vendors, who would soon compete with one another in a shouting match to attract potential buyers, were busy arranging their produce. A few early morning customers had arrived for haircuts at the barber shop. Restaurants were open for business serving breakfast to their first customers. A small group of people had gathered in front of the temple in the corner for morning worship.
The city was waking up. Soon, the road would be a chaotic blur of noisy action. Up in the canopy, the birds continued their raucous song, unmindful of the drama unfolding below. They were not going anywhere as long as the trees remained intact. I was now thankful for their presence.
I continued to lie in bed and stared at the ceiling fan whose noise was being drowned out by the birds. But there was something soothing about the fan and I was just dozing off again when there was a new sound that startled me. This was from a woman who was selling greens of various types from a pushcart. She was rousing the residents of this block of flats to see if any of them were interested in purchasing the vegetables. It was just after 6 O’clock, but resistance was clearly pointless. So I got off the bed and walked into the bathroom.
Through the window in the bathroom, I could hear the water running in the bathrooms in the neighbouring apartments. The cacophonous symphony outside was being joined by an increasing number of performers – the water pump that filled the overhead tank, a tanker of water on the street, the traffic from the main street a block away punctuated by the honking of horns every few seconds and early morning television. When I came out of the bathroom and walked into the living room, someone on TV was lecturing on the importance of following dharma. I went out to the balcony where the cool early morning air was as refreshing as the hot coffee my wife had handed me. I sat down on a chair and surveyed the scene outside.
In a city that was plagued by water shortages, there was no dearth of greenery. In fact, no one would have guessed that this city was starved of water. Many thoroughfares were lined with large rain trees or other shade-giving trees. Coconut palms and mango trees could be found in every lot with a house or even a block of flats. The noisy birds that woke me up were no doubt perched somewhere on the mango tree in the corner of the compound.
The main street just a block away was no exception. There was an entire section of the street that got no sunlight as it was under the heavy canopy of the trees. I decided to take a walk down that road and so quickly got dressed and legged it there. Given the early hour, the traffic was light. The shops were yet to open and I was able to walk without bumping into the usual throngs. I could even step on to the road without fearing for my life and cross the road at the intersections. When it gets really busy, I sometimes think that the safest way to cross this road is to engage an auto rickshaw.
While walking down the street, the tops of buildings are blocked by the trees and you may well imagine that the years have done nothing to them. But change has actually been continuous over the years. Most of the buildings have been renovated, expanded and thoroughly modernized. The shops are glitzier with many international brands being sold, the buildings are taller and even the sidewalk shops have more upscale ware for sale now. There is a divider in the middle of the road ensuring more orderly (as much as possible!) traffic flow and preventing pedestrians from crossing the road.
It is impossible to describe the complete transformation that has taken place here. I wondered how it was that some shops had remained unchanged with all the building boom. The barber shop, the little pharmacy, the small shop that offered to frame your pictures, and the shop that sells coffee beans and powder – these had somehow escaped the trend. The flower shops with garlands of roses hanging are still around to provide a pleasantly cooling fragrance as you walk past them and the vegetable market and fruit shops are very much part of the scene as always. It is actually amazing that while so much on this road has changed over the years, the trees are still in place.
I could see that the activity was picking up now. Milk and newspaper delivery boys were returning from their rounds. The vegetable vendors, who would soon compete with one another in a shouting match to attract potential buyers, were busy arranging their produce. A few early morning customers had arrived for haircuts at the barber shop. Restaurants were open for business serving breakfast to their first customers. A small group of people had gathered in front of the temple in the corner for morning worship.
The city was waking up. Soon, the road would be a chaotic blur of noisy action. Up in the canopy, the birds continued their raucous song, unmindful of the drama unfolding below. They were not going anywhere as long as the trees remained intact. I was now thankful for their presence.
***
'The old order changeth, yielding place to new'. The Sidewak Shops have been relocated to a new building and Pondy Bazaar is set to get a face lift. The Pedestrian Plaza planned there certainly looks promising, but these shops were a unique feature and many will miss them. I only hope that the majestic trees will be spared and the birds will get to keep their home.
