Gardens of Secularism and Soapboxes for Orators

The gulistan, the bagh and yes, the chowk are all central to South Asians’ sense of urban public space. We also know that such spaces are rarely commissioned by our municipal and other local public works authorities. The precious few that do still exist are generally decrepit or well-maintained survivors from another era or another millennium. The Mughals, the rulers of the erstwhile Princely States, the feudal chieftains, the Brits and their fellow colonialists, and even the missionaries, have all left behind, not always willingly, spaces and places that we desis currently enjoy. The reflecting pools, the rose gardens, the shady mango, tamarind or casuarina avenues and boulevards were plantings from another period of exploitation and imperial hauteur, or regal largesse, love of display or searches for immortality.

But now, what have we got? In India, practically every city boasts its own fetid river or noxious canal. Taking a deep breath is hazardous to health and wellbeing. The sparrows have totally disappeared thanks to rampant use of pesticides. The parks are the refuge of furtive lovers whose privacy has recently been threatened in Chennai and Delhi and probably in other cities and towns by overzealous police constables acting like vice squads. They are also the haven of thieves, thugs and rapists, if the graphic accounts of relatives and the locals are not to be discounted.

WE the People -- South Asians -- appear to have not so far considered the creation of new public spaces in keeping with our civic modernity. Are all our public spaces to be defined by religion, and collective public expressions of particular faiths with no discourse across them? Or are all our public spaces to be temporalities in which commerce is ubiquitously conducted? Must we buy in order to be?

Civic modernity necessitates that we imagine and then concretize that we can assemble peaceably in unrestricted spaces; be seen in public with persons other than our male or female kin; that our taxes will pay for such spaces, that we can go out and about without purchasing some item to advance the GDP, that we can listen to live music we have never had occasion to hear before; that we can sit next to people we have never sat next to before; that there are quiet public spaces we can seek out; that we can also seek out the throng without fear of violence or disclosure; that opinions and actions can be expressed and taken without being harassed or murdered for them.

I made a strange discovery in India in the course of several visits. The middle class never walks. They have a car and they are in it. My relatives thought it was pretty weird that I regularly walked briskly for forty minutes to visit a disabled relative. The fact that I jogged in Kannur, Kerala in the early mornings before traffic got heavy was a matter for constant and amused comment. They also thought it pretty strange that I often, not always, talked with persons in the street. I am not claiming that there are not risks to conversations with strangers. Of course there are. But how else would I know that the man at the bus stop harvested delicious breadfruit from tall, magnificent tress for a living? Or that the little girl, only five, delivered tea to offices all day, instead of attending school? Our civic modernity demands involvement with others. I recognize that not living in India makes such exchanges more acceptable. When I am in India which is often, I am seen as something of a stranger but still familiar enough to be engaged with or tolerated if I ask too many questions. And then of course there are the requests for money or assistance. I do what I can, explain or decline politely when I cannot. In a mixture of Hindi, Bengali, Malayalam, Tamil and Urdu and English, I can understand as well as make myself understood no matter where I am in South Asia.

The new urban public spaces that will reflect our expanding civic modernity as South Asians must somehow incorporate our connection with others in our nation-states and in our region. So – Gardens of Secularism to learn about our common and diverse bonds, and Soapboxes for the ones who want to declaim and persuade. And any other definitions of urban (and rural) spaces that foster cooperation and tolerance, encourage debate and celebrate the public sphere. Any ideas?


Chithra KarunaKaran lives in an eco-friendly, low-rise community dwelling, replete with geckos and nesting sparrows on University Avenue in Chowk