In celebration of un-walling
I grew up in Colombo. We lived in a lane that went nowhere and as
such provided an excellent cricket pitch with wickets placed at the far
end. Sixers and fours were possible only through straight drives. One
couldn’t take runs if the ball was struck into a neighbour’s gardens.
The players were frequently required to scramble on to sun-shades and
roofs to retrieve balls injudiciously or perhaps unintentionally hit.
There were two other striking features about that dead-end road.
First, it was as multi-ethnic, multi-religious as it could get. There
were Sinhalese, Tamils (Sri Lankan and Indian), Burghers and Muslims;
Buddhists, Christians, Catholics, Hindus and Muslims. Everyone was
bilingual and some were trilingual. The composition survived ‘July
1983’, although people left, as people often do. Common sense and common
humanity prevailed over the occasional disagreement or dispute. No one
was abandoned at time-of-need.
Nameless lane
The
second interesting thing about that nameless lane that was home, village
and playground was that it was lined with hedges. All the houses on the
right side as you walked up the lane were identical, while those on the
left were designed as pairs, facing each other as mirror images. They
all belonged to Francis Gomes but in the seventies they were taken as
‘excess houses’ by the state and ‘Gompa’, a lovable and genial man,
retained just the house at the top of the lane from where he watched the
cricket and when his wife, Aunty Carmen, was not around offer
refreshments and guavas from his garden. Each house was distinct
courtesy hedge-type. Some preferred multi-coloured hedges, others were
more staid and single-minded. We had an ‘Andara Weta’.
It all changed after July 1983. A lot of things changed and not just
down that lane. One by one each household chose to put up walls. All
illegal of course since the street-line regulation was violated. Two
families, ours and our mirror-image neighbours, remained ‘hedged’
although the mirror was fractured by architectural innovation and a wall
that came up in place of where the mirror-line was upon my father’s
insistence.
July 1983 sparked a walling that was of national proportion. There
was passionate wall-building all over the country, especially in urban
areas.
There were walls made of brick and mortar and walls made of
suspicion, anger, revenge-intent and fear. In the rush we quite
unintentionally participated in caging ourselves and shrinking our
respective worlds.
General public
Almost 27 years later, the walls are coming down. Literally. Today we
can see the Kurunduwatte Police Station and for this reason the Police
somehow seems more accessible than before, when it appeared that it was
an entity that stood in opposition to the general public and one that
gave the impression of being terrified of encountering citizen. There
were, no doubt, legitimate reasons for walling. In a words, the LTTE.
That’s all gone now and it is wonderful to see the quaint colonial
building that was turned into a police station years ago.
The un-walling has made both city and citizen breathe, I feel. I knew
there was a cricket ground at the corner where the Bauddhaloka Mawatha
was made to turn towards Colombo University for security reasons, but I
had never seen it.
It is nice to see open spaces. Colombo University has a fence around
the grounds but still, it is ‘open space’ enough that pleases eye and
subdues a turbulent mind.
Royal College used to have a parapet wall but it was raised. In the
seventies, someone in a bus traveling on Reid Avenue could see the score
if there was a match being played at the time. Or at least watch a
delivery and perhaps an elegant stroke or butchery that produced six or
four. There is no reason not to revert to ‘parapet’.
I know that the Defence Ministry has taken over the Urban Development
Authority and while I believe that this is a bad precedent and even if
this were not the case that it should be considered a temporary (very
temporary) move, it is clear that the views of people who know about
city planning and landscape architecture are being solicited. It means
also that the Government is taking the lead in demonstrating that
anxiety should be slowly but surely retired or put into semi-retirement.
The citizens, hopefully, will follow suit.
Walls stop the breeze. They separate people from people, institutions
from the public and in the process fracture both individual as well as
organization. Walls made sense at a particularly violent and fear-filled
period in our history.
It seems to be that recovering normalcy requires a gradually
un-walling, literally and metaphorically. The latter takes time. It will
require mechanisms and processes that facilitate eye-contact, trade,
recognition of commonality and so on. The physical un-walling is quicker
and can help.
Coat of paint
If ‘hedging’ is seen to be less secure and securing than a wall, you
can sent a barbed wire fence through it or rather have it grow through
such a fence. Hedges are hard to maintain, I agree. You have to trim
hedges regularly whereas walls stay put with hardly any attention
required except for a new coat of paint every few years. Still!
We were never a walling nation. Our lives, bodies, homes and minds
rebelled against all kinds of walling, all kinds of restrictions. We are
a people who are heirs to a civilization that promoted free thinking and
free inquiry. That’s among the greatest gifts that Buddhism gave our
ancestors; a gift that is indelible in our cultural ethos and
civlizational make-up, regardless of professed faith.
I like this un-walling that is happened around the city of Colombo.
Makes one think. Frees one’s mind to think, rather.
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