A Park To Remember

As I traverse back and forth from my workplace to my home, I routinely pass by a park by the roadside. It is not the best park for one. I have seen better parks in a number of places. Parks which are well maintained and nicely kept. Some admirable for their sheer size. Some with touches of history showcasing beautiful monuments. Some chiseled in the latest modern avataars. But there is something about this park which endear it to me. Not the beauty of the grass and perhaps not the few people who chatter within the confines. Such space do however offer priceless peace to the residents of a crowded city.

As I could not avoid a glance whenever I pass by, it somehow began to engage my mind. I started searching my heart as to what make it special to me. Actually, there is nothing significant about the park. It is not well tended and so bears a dilipidated look.The grasses have almost dried up for want of care. The benches in the park are dirty and mostly empty. Rust has also set in and thereby repel visitors. The ground is strewn with litter making it unhygienic. In case they cannot be termed as encroachments, there are unauthorized structures on the boundary fencing. But despite the lack of beauty, the sight generates an inexplicable feeling. This set me into the thinking mode.

The park has a rather odd shape. It is triangular. There are residential flats facing the park on the left side. Minicure trees stand randomly here and there. There are rows of eucalyptus trees on the far end and right.Vast swades of wilderness seem to extend beyond it. It does not matter from where I observe. I do it often from the auto that connects me to the metro station. At other times, the metro feeder bus gives me a better view. Still, on rare occasions, a walk down the road allows me with more time to dwell.It became a recurring phenomena for quite sometime.Gradually, I realize what captivated me to the park was nothing extraordinary.It was just that the sight of the tall eucalyptus trees and the view beyond bore uncanny resemblance to the countryside where I was born and bred. What beholded me infact was the thought of home. The sights and sounds of the lovely countryside.

In course of time, the whole lot of thing brought something poignant to my mind. It reminded me of my humble roots. It brought back memories of childhood bliss. It tells me the present state of things were not dreamed of at one point of time. That I should not get carried away. That I should not lost my way in the woods. It is subtle to recall here the enlightening words of the Emperor of Japan in the concluding moments of Edward Zicke’s The Last Samurai “ And now we are awake. We have railroads and canon and western clothing. But we cannot forget who we are or where we come from”. And we can always find ‘A Park To Remember’ by the roadside to remind us.

P.S: This piece was written when I was working in Lok Sabha Secretariat, Parliament Of India, New Delhi.