A Morning at the Beach

I am fortunate to live near the beach, in Thiruvanmiyur, a blessing that most inhabitants of our colony take for granted. Recently, however, the local citizen's association has become very active and is  getting involved in various civic issues concerning our locality. On January 2nd, they had called for volunteers to come and clean the beach which was covered with a lot of debris washed up by the sea. I was not in town for that occasion, but this Sunday (Jan 25th), I joined a number of volunteers to clean the beach again. This was to be an ongoing activity, as cleaning is never a one-time job.

Armed with gloves and huge garbage bags, we met at the beach at 6 in the morning and soon spread out, our eyes open for every bit of plastic, every piece of paper. The local fishermen watched us bemused, as they went about their morning routine. Barely three weeks had passed since the beach had been cleaned, and I am still amazed at the amount of garbage we picked over the next two hours!

Paper, crushed plastic cups  , broken beer bottles, gutka packets, plastic sachets, straws - what came to mind was the careless and callous attitude we have towards public spaces. These were not thrown there by the local fishermen; rather they were left behind by the people who came from far and near to enjoy the fresh air and the sea. Families on picnics, or lovers looking for some privacy, all use the beach, but the least we can do is to leave the place as clean as it was when we came in. This  lack of civic sense is something that alarms me, but there is still hope.

While I was picking up the junk, a middle-aged man from the nearby apartment  sauntered by on his morning walk. He had not been aware of the beach cleaning activity, but the moment he understood what we were doing, he pitched in and did his bit of collecting. Not only that, he seemed determined to come again. Slowly, I am sure as awareness rises, we will feel collective responsibility for our shared public spaces,and  will take care to keep them clean and beautiful. Till then, I suppose, we will have to spend a Sunday morning every month cleaning up the beach.

(Photo courtesy: chennai.metblogs.com/2007/10/15/thiruvanmiyur-beach/)

Staying Connected...

This seems to be my season for re-uniting with lost friends!

 Recently, we went to Bombay for a wedding. A friend's daughter was getting married, and it was the perfect opportunity to meet our old friends. I was travelling to the city after 12 years, and a lot had changed, and was still changing. It took us ages to go from one place to the other especially because of the Metro work, but the warmth with which our friends welcomed us more than made up for that.

Twelve years is a long time, and children had grown into adults, found jobs, married and started families. Neighbourhoods had changed, and new housing blocks had sprouted where once there were open spaces. Our old colony had changed so much, become busier and more crowded.

 And yet, some things had not changed. As I ascended the steps to my friend Pushpa's house, I remembered going there thrice a week for my yoga lessons. I will never forget the look on Pushpa's face! She had been thinking of me constantly for the past few days, and there I was, in the flesh! There was so much to catch up with, phone numbers  and email ids to be exchanged.

Why do we do it? Why do we go out of the way to locate our lost friends? What drives us to catch up with the lost years? What do we gain from this exercise? 

I received a mail recently that brought up these questions with regard to my previous post where I had spoken of meeting my school mates after 32 years. The sender of the mail wanted to know why it was so important to have a reunion which according to him/her was "regression". I do not agree. I think the answers are very obvious. 

Every relationship we have, whether it is as a friend, spouse, sibling, child, or parent, is a cord of connectivity. A part of us is there in that relationship; we invest not just time, but emotions and feelings into every relationship. We share so much together, and when we lose that relationship, that friendship, a part of us is lost forever. Somewhere we do not feel whole and complete. This feeling of not being complete drives us to look for the missing parts of our own selves, and that is exactly why we feel complete and happy when we find our lost friends.

 And not, as my misguided friend had written, because we were unhappy with our present lives and were looking for something that was lacking.