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Seeing a different green

Are we in such a state of dissonance with nature that we can't smell the green grass and wet earth? With Earth Day just gone by, Rakesh Mehar tries to get at the root of the matter

A SIGHT FOR SORE EYES A kind of disconnect prevents the average urban citizen from doing anything about the environment Photo: K. Ramesh Babu

Sanjeev N. loves his weekend treks. With a stressful marketing job that keeps him on his toes for six days a week, he likes nothing better than to get away from it all on Sunday. While most people would assume that lazing about at home might be a better cure for fatigue than two or three hours of climbing, Sanjeev disagrees. "In the city, my view of the world is so narrow and insular that I can never think beyond myself. But out there, beyond the reach of the city, I feel like I'm part of something bigger than me, and that I should care for that bigger picture too."

It's a noble sentiment, say Sanjeev's friends, and something they'd love to experience too. But ask them why don't they get out there next Sunday, and a litany of excuses such as family commitments, working weekends, birthdays and a host of other non-reasons pop out faster than you can blink.

They feel at home only when there's a concrete roof over their heads. Like Sana, who went backpacking with a couple of friends last year. She spent one night sleeping out in the open, then refused to stay anywhere but at a hotel. "It just felt too weird. I kept imagining being attacked by a bear or something," she protests.

For others, while nature isn't frightening, it isn't understood either. Sunaina, a journalist, says her six-year-old daughter is completely disconnected from nature. "I took her to Lalbagh recently. But rather than be fascinated by the exotic flowers there, she was completely taken in by the vegetable plants. Until then, she never made the connection that the vegetables she eats grow on plants!" And this from a child who understands the concept of salaries, income, and expenditure.

It is this kind of disconnect that prevents the average urban citizen from doing anything about the environment, say Rohan D'Souza and Benson Isaac of Hasiru Usiru, a voluntary organisation that works towards protecting the green cover in Bangalore. According to Rohan, Hasiru Usiru was formed when it was announced that 700 trees were to be cut last year for road widening.

The fact that so many people came together to form this group gives him hope, but he is worried that for most of the general population such issues end with a bit of nostalgia for the fallen trees. "There isn't any conversion of such feelings into activism," he explains. For Benson, the problem is that even though people come together at times of dire need, daily abuses of the environment continue, unnoticed. "When people see one tree being cut, they don't realise the significance of it. And so everyday erosion goes on unchecked."

Added to this general apathy is the disordered, haphazard process of development that Bangalore has been subjected to in the last decade or so. Rohan points out that there has been an attitude shift in the bureaucracy away from environmental concern. "Ten years ago, when the development of Tumkur Road was going on, some trees were to be chopped in the process. However the forest officer concerned insisted that they remain and the development take place around them. Nowadays, the attitude is only towards getting the work done by any means necessary."

Even with the lung spaces still preserved in the city, Benson adds, a process of commodification of nature has taken place. "The BMP is making many of the parks exclusive, asking people to pay an entry fee." This commodification has also affected the way in which the "product" is packaged. Indigenous trees and vegetation are mowed down only to be replaced by Australian and Mexican grass, the walkways are all cemented and every park is given an ordered and somewhat artificial look. "With so much biodiversity in India, why does any park need foreign vegetation?" asks Benson.

While it is generally recognised that industrial cities are significant sources of environmental abuse, M.B. Krishna, an ornithologist, warns that one mustn't romanticise the rural either. He contends that in rural areas, environmental awareness only extends so far as knowledge of what provides immediate gain. Even this gain is often cash driven, and thoughts of growing food crops occur to a lesser extent, he says. "We must remember that just because contact with nature exists, prudence doesn't automatically come with it. Prudence comes with enlightenment or refinement of our understanding of the situation."

His sentiments are echoed in a sense by the problems of urban sprawl. As many environmentalists point out, urban sprawl is one of the direct results of an attempt to escape the problems of the urban, while enjoying its benefits. The key, they say, isn't to try to escape the city but to confront its problems and resolve them.

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