Some rumblings on Urban Forestry

After a long time, I come back to this corner to my life. I come to this space which I find myself one with - writing. Trying to bring light to the reflections of life brings a sense of calm, doesn't it? I share my rumblings on the world around me and this time it is on 'Urban Forestry'.

Not many people know or are researching on it but neither is urban forestry a new page to the world. If one happens to read history books or scriptures or any piece of antiquity on how kingdoms were looked after, one will know of how the administrators planned cities with streets laden with fruit trees, of sacred groves and forest areas demarcated for specific purposes. Kautilya's Arthashastra too has notes on how the king must maintain groves for saints to meditate and that the streets must have trees that provide shade to the passersby.

If we have had the privilege to have balconies and accessible terraces in our city homes, we would remember our childhood days watching squirrels and sparrows talking and nibbling to us. The many hues of green and grey patches from our window and walks in the parks and promenades have always helped in bringing a sense of recreation to our monotony.

Urban forestry is basically a means to maintain and increase green cover in the city. It could be in terms of standalone trees or shrubs on road dividers, on streets, round-abouts, parks, gardens, water fronts or forests within city boundaries. Different countries define 'urban forestry' differently. However, the underlying purpose is to have cities livable, sustainable, healthy and well, happy!

While we are all aware of the multitude of benefits that green cover provides in terms of carbon sequestration, prevention of soil erosion, reduction of heat island effect, provisionary benefits in terms of food and fuel and maintenance of ground water levels; we haven't emphasised it enough in our city development plans and urban planning.

Recent discourses on 'Smart Cities' have brought them back thankfully. Obviously, this is not to say that urban and peri urban forestry disappeared in the contemporary times. However, our city planners and urban denizens to a large extent have emphasised grey infrastructure to a neglect of the balance between the green, the grey and the blue.

If one looks at the data of the presence of green cover in Indian cities in an article by Pradeep Chaudhary et al 'Urban Greenery Status of Some Indian Cities: A short communication' in April 2011's issue of 'International Journal of Environmental Science and Development', one finds them way below the WHO standard of 12 square meters (sq. m) of green space per inhabitant except for cities like Delhi (22 sq. m), Gandhinagar (160 sq. m), Chandigarh (55 sq. m) and Bangalore (17 sq. m).

Sure, our urban local bodies are working towards park and garden maintenance and tree pruning on streets before monsoons. Sure, we Mumbaikars are supporting to safeguard the Aarey Colony forest as lungs of the city. Sure, we have 'Nagar Van Udyan Scheme', 'Smart Cities Mission', AMRUT Scheme (Atal Mission for Rejuvenation and Urban Transformation), Green Highways Mission, greening of the catchment areas of river Ganga and 'School Nurseries' program. Sure, we also have Non Governmental Organizations (NGOs), Community Based Organizations (CBOs), Resident Welfare Associations (RWAs) to take this cause at the grassroots level.

However, this is still not enough to measure up to the way in which our country will get urbanized in the coming years and the pressure it will create on the existing natural resources in its periphery. We need more awareness and an evolved citizen conscience to bring sustainability and beauty to our cities. 

the barren..the bereft...

How will one care to look back in responsibility,

Where scarcer people have ever with grit tred.

How will one care to see if the land that once nourished,

Now remains void with only scavengers lurking.

You too partook your share very rightfully

And in your duties were the first to turn a ghost.

Where the brooding and breeding was done and over,

How will you now care to see it bleeding and breathing its last?

Albeit, now it does bid adieu

No grunts will it ever have on you.

And so, you take one slow step – heavy with conscience and go;

But other steps are quick to come.

You say, “Well in life we all have to be practical!”

Very well O you! Very well!

the mad..the market...

the street seemed cumbersome,

with all the chatter,

people seemed to call it market...

so what did they come to sell,

some humans sold objects,

some objects sold humans,

some objects sold objects..and

some humans sold humans..

he slept a nomad's life

in the city of the civilized...

laughed neither he,

nor shed a pie of a tear

saw the money changing hands

and some hands changing the money..

i thought he thought

while all the time he thought

because he seemed to think.

But he seemed..and

once i gave him a coin

and he threw it back at me...

Mad, i thought he was...

after all-

who would not want the money,

it was supposed to be a market

a market...i thought to myself...

woods today..

the bloom smiled,
the waft breeze apast,
the muck layered the stone
the shrivel of the snail
with the dead skin of the snake..
the woods were silent today
only the bees buzzed..
the dark of the night
camouflaged the rustic trunks..

the spoonful of full moon

its grace,
a marvel to trace..
its beauty reminisence
of thy presence..

greatness
in all its milieu
glory
with its ivory renew

of voices and echoes...

These voices of strenght
and meek,
these voices that prun silence
and spur distances,
these voices that crave,
to more say
than rave..
These voices that
are heard,
when inhibitions strike
the mid night oil,
these..
voices..
are..
bereft of..
hope..
hatred and brutality,
war in its magnanimity..
voices,
lost
and some
unheard..
voices..so unpredictable..
voices..
cry
and not a soul comes to soothe..
they burn in their ashes cold,
grave their live bodies..
kids and women and men
and brothers...
and then when all's done..
voices that heard in the silence
are voicing how it all should not have been done...

the big tot..

There comes a stall sometimes when the interaction between you and something comes to a pause but when you revive them, they come to your memory like they had never gone before.

Not many times have I confessed to this blog, yet everytime I sit to write in this corner of the net, it brings me back the reasons I think I should write.

There comes a whole medley of things about which one wishes to write. A whole lot has passed which needs words to live their memory coz if they dont they will remain like flittering pages that will fling open out of a rustic book clasped by loose threads of memory.About one, I am going to write today...

I saw this child in the train one late evening. His clothes tattered with the city's dust clinged to it. A basketful of things he seemed to sell and while selling those, he was selling his soul. His eyes had experiences to say and his face showed an age much greater to his physicality. He threw his basket onto the seat and carelessly flung himself over the footboard. Even tried a few acrobatics on the handlers.A typically street story I thought his must be.
When he had looked outside the train, his face showed an all knowing look.No place seemed to be unfamiliar to him. He seemed to be tired but somehow his will longed for somemore work..strangely..
Somehow i struck a conversation with him and he spoke to me about how he had left home in Rajasthan..he spoke about his lost childhood, his lost parents and how he was finding all that was lost to him in this already lost city of ours..
He seemed to pace with the run and managed himself all alone. To me and you he would have been a child of twelve but he knew much more than a lifetime..and the price that he paid for this was his lost innocence..

To live...

Interplay...

The silence of the mind

the chaos of the noises

all around..

Interplay...

The innocence of the flower

the treachery of the thorns

Interplay...

The peace and the glory

the war, the blood and brutal plays

Interplay...

The flowing crystals

The piercing sand dunes

They interplay...

nothing exists in isolation...

in its own form,

they adapt to the other...

In adaption

lies their survival

a midway railway platform

Reading is the best cure for ignorance.But, its such an intoxication that you begin to dwelve in the atmosphere of your book. It makes you go back into the dusty roads of memory and relive those days. Books are lumps of time in themselves. They carry thier own history, their own culture, their own civilization, habits and mannerism of life. They are the windows to thought of their times. It reveals through author's narration; lives in themselves. Inside, they are the author's fantasy, his inspiration and sometimes a bigraphy or an autobiography. Outside, when we read them, we pass them as we pass the stations mid way to our destination on a rail journey. Some chatty, some lazy, some silent, some quick witted, some suspicious....
Reading a book is like opening a lunch box in the afternoon when you dont know what was packed. It comes with surprises. Sometimes laden with delicacies and sometimes as boring as it can be.
Reading is like fathoming the depth of the deepest ocean or measuring the rainfall in a storm. You cant get close to its approximation, however hard you try. Its like a clay you can mould it into different shape and size but will never be the one originally formed. I remember reading Premchand and Rajagopalachari when I was a kid and when I read them now I have different observations and inferences to make. I have forgotten my Enid Blytons and Nancy Drew or The Famous Five. I cant recall their slightest memory. I distinctly remember Tagore's Kabuli wala and a few of H.G. Wells.
When I sit to clear my closet, I find ignorantly a book or two tucked with open pages and book marks flittering about and I endlessly dive into it again.
This one is R.K.Narayan's Malgudi Days.
It has a story of a road side astrologer who escapes a tragedy with his quick wit and street- smartness.
This astrologer is just like those who sit unger some banyan or tamarind or some corner of a railway platform with his wierd collection of photos of diffrent God and Godesses and hosts a collection of gems and rudraksha malas which he claims will soon make you rid of your grievences. But actually "he is as good a stranger to the stars as are his innocent customers". With practice and a bit of monotony he gives answers to those who pay three pies for every answer.

On one late evening, as he was about to leave, he somehow cajoled a person to sit down and show his palm. The customer, a shwerd one said he was ready to pay eight anna provided he answered satisfactorily else the astrologer would have to pay the double. Some how, the parties accepted albiet the astro with some hesitation.

Shivered to the soul, he said that somebody made an attempt to kill him in the past. Astonished, the customer showed stab marks on his chest. The astro even said that he was left for dead in a well. To that he replied that it was due to some kind hearted passersby that he got out of that well. He agreed to both the answers but was still insatiable. He asked where he could find that person who attempted to kill him. To that the asrto replied that there was no need for killing him as he was already crushed under some lorry. This time he even called him by his name, gave him some ash to rub on his forehead and return to his home northwards and never some back southwards again!

On returning back home, the asrto thrust the eight annas to his wife, good enough to silent her lamentations while he breath relief that a great load had beheaded from him. He thouht he'd killed somebody and had blood on his hands- the very reason why he migrated from his ancestral village. The wife shocked in despair asked for further explanation. Very calmly, on that he just mentioned that it was a thing of past as a silly youngster when he got drunk and gambled. Then yawning and srteching his legs over a pyol, he pocketed those eight annas from the very same person!
I close my book and grin an all-knowing smile. When my mom passes me she calls me a maniac who grins on everything and anything. On that I grin again, this time conforming my mom's prediction!:)!!

golden touch of vaccum

Why the pretentious smile,
Why the polished façade,
Why the empty words,
Why the tacit overt?
It’s useless sometimes.
It’s voiceless sometimes.

Khali badal ki garaj dekhi hai kabhi?
Koi sukha khaliyan dekha hai kabhi?
Jaise bin beejo ke podhe sichte ho,
Jaise bin tinko ke khet ginte ho…

Why the void occupation?
Why the vacant care?
Why the bright darkness?
Why the hidden show?
It’s foolish sometimes.
It’s imprudent sometimes.

Khokle vaade sune hai kabhi?
Swarth ke meethe bol sune hai kabhi?
Jaise soche duniya sochti hi na ho,
Jaise mane kisine kabhi jaana hi na ho.

a melange of ponder and wonder

days all begin with sun-rise and sunset..they have the approximately the same time lenght..almost all creatures on earth perform their mundane chores, i wonder then what causes each day to be so different than the earlier.there are so many living creatures on the earth..multiply those creatures with their respective living age and multiply each ones' living age to 365...all these days: each and every day, each and every moment is so distinct..so varied..each minute proponent of time represents a different hue and a different shade of life..this 'life' is an composed of so many elements both internal and external. External elements represents the environment with agni, jal, vayu, prakash and internally there are so many rasas and emotions- anger, grief, dispair, happiness, joy, bliss, greed, satisfaction, frustration, agony..and then to operate all of them lies a life current which we call soul...
some times you sit back and wonder whether the atman was made to operate these factors or whether the karma of the atman intimidated the universe to accomplish these duties..stars, comets, sattlelites, meteroids- why do they exist?..and how come their nakshatras determine our future(to believe that they do or not is a personal opinion and it also depends upon the your own faith and your environmental circumstanes)..and in this entire cosmos- where are we? what is our significance..may be we are just a miniscule element of this cosmos..or may be the strenght of the entire cosmos lies in us but we like buffoons, our pseudo thoughts limits the zenith of the knowledge of our existence...
'existence'..this term is also so quirky.. how do you know whether you exist or not?one might say a death od a person is his absence or if the creature is not dead he is alive and so we prove existence..but the world of spirits?what about them? those instincts- what about them..one cannot prove their existence or their absence..
there are so many questions lying above us..so many of them below us..so many of them around us..and we are still ignorant and reticent..this contra attitude itself shows the depth of our true strenght of the spirit..
i havent done any thesis on physics, but i some how feel that there is a law behind this..the negativity of a person is also indicative of the positiveness a person can harness..and similarly, if a person is capable of doing immense good, he/she has the equal power of destruction..personas now depend upon the way they scale their attitude on the barometer of these extremes...sage valmiki before he wrote the great epic was a daku of a very ill repute..king ashoka captured an warred and enslaved a plethora of people, but it was the same man who after realizing his error bit his conscience and turned to principles of buddhism and closer to religion(in its real sense)..i have observed so many people with such same balance of powers..i think i can call it the 'equilibrium'(oh yes...this reminds me of market equilibrium and intersection of demand and supply forces)...so this an equilibrium of the two forces of positivity and negation..creation and destruction, war and peace...love and hatred..evil and goodness..all manifest in this equilibrium..But it must be noted here that great people(i dont mean celebrities here..but people who have strived hard for the welfare of other people, those who are legendary and almost hero worshipped) become great not by simply doing great things, but by commanding control over their other negative and destructive powers..by gaining a contol on their own senses..this makes their character deep, profound and the realm of life comes true in its own essence..it is such people who are close to getting nirvana or the bliss of enlightenment. to speak little but kind words that dont hurt any one..to be equally resilent in moments of highs and lows alike- this is a characteristic of a great and nobel human..i do not wish to sermonize anything..or give a lecture on moralism..but it is with some circumspection and introspection that i've come up with this conclusion..i will be oblidged if anybody who shares a different stage wishes to explore the medium of dialectics (the greek method of discussions over arguments..albeit theirs were political ones)..i think we all can benefit from this..

the imperfect perfect competitive market

Academically, we always begin to study market structures with the understanding of perfectly competitve market form propounded by E.H.Chamberlin. It is an extended version of pure competition (char 1,2,3).
Its characteristic features being:
1. Large number of buyers and sellers
2. Product Homogenity
3.Free entry and exit
4.Perfect mobility of factors of production
5. Perfect knowledge
6.No Transport cost
7.No Government Interferance
It is important to note that all the sellers sell their produce at uniform price under such market form.
Any layman without the slightest study of any market structure will say that such a model is a myth and can never exist. Sure!can never exist...but along with that i have severe doubt about intrinsic and assumed features itself. I doubt them to be controversial and contradictory to each other.
For eg. There are no transort costs incurred which states that the produce is made locally and ubiquitously. However, if i consider 'A' particular area (a village, a collection of villages) then there will not be large nmber of sellers and buyers because each seller will then sell a considerable and significant output and same for the buyer. To this one may say that, so what if no transportation costs are incurred..the entire production and consumption might be spread out..say a country, a large state..but then what about 'Perfect Knowledge'? This feature states that information is free and costless and that the consumers and producers know completely of the market structures. In this case, if the economic activities are spread out then perfect knowledge is not possible because there is always going to be ignorance in some part of the geographical area which producers might take to their benefit.
Perfect mobility implies that factors canbe transferred geographically and occupationally. That means, one can work in mining ore one day, be a teacher of language speaking shakespeare and milton on the other and and go to a battlefield on some another day. Perfect mobilty fails to consider sunk capital that is intrinsic to occupations specifically. For eg. a blast furnace cannot be used in a farm and a sycth and chisel will never work in a manufacturing factory.
Alright, assume that such markets are or might be merely for agricultural commodities. In that case too product homogenity can never be attained. A corn from one field will be variant in its significant feature from another.
Feature 7 mentions no governmental interference. But since time immemorial, a government be it a monarchy (most of ancient princely states), a democracy (in Greece and Rome) taxes have always been imposed. This itself is a major governmental interferance. Even a 'Police State' will have to collect taxes for its maintainence of treasury and to safeguard the kingdom. Also, if there is no regulatory body like governement (if we assume very naively that no govts would then be present), how is the price uniformity validated? To this one could say that since a seller sells a very miniscule amount of output, if he increases the price, he fears losing his consumers to another firm; but what if he reduces price?- here the question arises: an efficient firm whose cost conditions are low compared to those in the markets might strategically lower the price to entrench market space and try to increase his sales. I studied that when prices are reduced by firms their total revenue is on a decline in P.C. market structure but my question is cant it be a strategy?
With respect to Free entry and Exit, how come existing firms tolerate new entries in market (in super normal profit status) to share their economic and hard earned profits? Would they not stategize to keep them at bay wanting to enjoy a greater share of the market and make hay while the sun shines?
..some grave doubts and grim curiosities!

...so subtly

That was not a lie
That was not a joke,
That was not a sigh,
That was an envelope…

Times said things unsaid,
They spoke of what you thought,
Because what you spoke
Was not what you said.
There was a difference-
Of…
Unknown things,
Understanding,
Recognizing
And days went scrutinizing…
And time itself was metamorphosing.
Loose ends just remained.
They had their glimpses
In half met eyes,
In broken smiles,
In incomplete handshakes,
And sometimes in smooth frictions
And fractious slips…

That was not a lie;
Not a joke,
Not a sigh,
But… an envelope…

'coz i dont know..

why does life flow? why does t have no end..
why do people love their friend?
why was i i,
what is gonna be my?
who is gonna answer,
why miserable is this prankster?
where is what i want,
what in world-for so much flaunt?
why do i breathe?
why do i sneeze?
for what m i awake?
for what this buy-take?
....answer somebody, answer!

chalo kuch likhe...

i'm back....yes after a strenuous long time....there were so many times when i'd juz feel to write entries..but somehow they juz got delayed..

janfest was thrilling!...juggling with class, col n home was even more!(can help be sarcastic on this one!)...it was fun to the core painting d peacock banner for the fest..n it felt so gud when all of a sudden i'd get gifts from my secret santa..ah,how m missing it all!

the concert was amazin!...shree viku vinayakji was on ghatam for the first day..n i muz say it was an outright treat for all in the audience!..he's simply stupendous...the second day was shree rupak kulkarniji on flute..a very humble, soft-spoken person.....his performance left me completely speechless for the next few hours...

i wish i had photos to embed the now!

anyway...waqt to hamara hi hai..aglibar sahi!

Reviewing 'The Great Indian Chaos Theory' by R.Guha

It is always easier to remember hounding memories. R. Guha does the same in his article “The Great Indian Chaos Theory” presenting an epilogue of disastrous events. He starts with describing the catastrophes of 2008- both internal and external that paralyzed every Indian irrespective of his faith and sect. Every state experienced a nightmare, be it a natural calamity like floods of Bihar and Tamil Nadu, or man-made disasters usurped by Hindu chauvinists in Orissa, MNS’ goons in Maharashtra or insurgent activites of ULFA and TRS. The trials and tribulation were not restricted to society and politics, it stretched its boundaries to economy as well. The financial tsunami of US hit its waves even on Indian shores. The Nifty and Sensex figures pummeled to rates beyond imagination. Even the stall vendor’s profit at 22K index rate faded away at 9K. Crude prices tumbled to less than half their price. Infrastructure and real estate projects were left in debris.

While everybody was convinced that 2008 was indeed the worst year in the Indian history, Guha goes deeper into the dark unfolding tragedies of 2002’s Gujarat riots, 1992’s Mumbai riots; 1984’s Khalistan insurgency, assassination of Indira Gandhi, Bhopal Gas tragedy; 1975’s political dictatorship; 1966’s mournful death of our treasured Prime Minister Lal Bahadur Shastri,1962’s India’s loss to China until he goes on he reaches almost to the source of our independence-1948’s conflicts with the princely states of Kashmir and Hyderabad. Each of the events was more unfortunate than the other. With a whole list to select the worst year in India’s history from, the author rationalizes three reasons due to which it is almost impossible to point one worst year.

It is natural to agree with all three reasons: our imperfect state of knowledge, bias and preference of a person and media.
If we analyze from the point the author left us last, we will discover that our origin i.e. our struggle for freedom from colonial clutches was itself dynamic. While we had extremist leaders like Lok Manya Tilak, Lala Lajpatrai, Veer Bhagat Singh; Bapu strongly held his weapon of non-violence. The chauri-chaura incident, regular fasts, his message of satyagraha and her charismatic persona that the globe was inspired with, strengthened the whole notion of weaponless struggle. Simultaneous to the Indian struggle against the britishers, one of the marginalized section-the dalits protested against the Hindu elitism. Thousands of dalits converted to Budhism under the direction of Dr. Ambedkar. Adding to the chaos, the British made hay while playing with the hindu-muslim divide. This led to the prohibitor of beef and the prohibitor of cow meat celebrating their independence with a difference of just a day. At the very same time, the new Indian society was opening up to new ideas of women empowerment, women education, widow remarriage and abandon of sati. Imagine all of this happening in one room, under the same roof, within the same space!

Our India was born as a nation of billions that was impoverished, under nourished and illiterate. Our agriculture was in a pitiable state with traditional obsolete tools and complete dependency on rains for farm water. The number of private industry could be counted on hands. The public sector was under constant pressure as it was responsible from things as domestic as supplying ration to handling blast furnaces of SAIL’s steel.
The article mention has a mention of General Claude Auchinleck’s statement referring to India as ‘a nation out of a continent of many nations.’ Isn’t it obvious then that a country who has a desert in one corner houses rich alluvial fertile of the Ganges in another part, whose people in one quarter are always wool clad resides people in another locale who flutter about in knee short lunghis will always have differences. Yes, these differences are over language, over land, over river waters, over dams, over religion and over countless things. This is so because we are a part of the same ‘Sovereign Socialist Democartic Republic of India’ whose history is a witness to all our righteous kings under whose rule the hindu muslim lived side by side, where our rich Vedas, granthas and puranas had been written, centuries old languages like Sanskrit, Prakriut and Ardhamaghdi were spoken, in whose land gems, gold and silver were treasured.

Our country cannot be like Sweden or Norway because we are simply not Sweden and Norway. While I agree to most of author’s comments- it is difficult to digest this one: as an unnatural nation and an unlikely democracy, India was never destined for a smooth ride.

If our country is as varied as a continent, it is natural that the problems will be continent wide. So, it is very superficial to have India be like Sweden or Norway and each one will have a different pace of ‘smooth ride’. Instead, we’ve lived through a rich common history and continue to do so since sixty years as Indians, that itself is a magical feat in itself!

What the country needs now is a strong leadership- leadership from its government, from its aam aadmi and from its jawaans on borders. WE need to reinstigate te spirit of the iron man Sardar Vallabh Bhai Patel against insurgencies or revive Gandhiji’s charisma to instill the dead confidence in the hearts of Indian souls. Let history be revived, without us living in past, for we know- how so ever ‘our’ future awaits us.

silently treddin to a new open door

its 2009 n as i look at the year gone by, it feels as if i'm leaving a read book on the shelf..as if i'd read d book half incomplete..or missed a few pages in between..or just forgot to get the crux of what was goin in...or never even realized when d book got over...i had read dat book in crowded trains, under d desk while d prof was busy teachin, on silent nights n busy days...but d pages juz passed by...n it got over...never m i goin to read dat book again..horror n shocks...m readin a new book now...just opening it..n u know what v al r readin it..let it be a happy read...happy new year!