The Gratitude Project – Musing 10
I recently chanced upon an image that ripped my heart to shreds. It showed, with unforgiving graphics, what I already knew to be true but refused to fully believe – the utter destruction of Bangalore’s all-covering green space to make way for the predatory concrete jungle that is McTrumpaluru today.
Here, drink it in:
If the picture made it’s way across the bits and bytes of the interwebs to your screen alright…well, it just about conveys the trauma of losing your childhood home, filled with fresh air, greenery, and historically welcoming communities – to cold blooded profit and reverse-engineered jingoism.
What am I grateful for, perhaps you ask?
Well, I’m still grateful for the Bangalore of my childhood – a safer place then than it is today for women, minorities, children, and our natural fucking world that provides us oxygen.
I’m grateful for my Bangalore – a more peaceable city, bursting with foliage and chaotic beauty – seemingly from a different age.
A Bangalore consigned to times past.
A Bangalore where one breathed easy in more ways than one.