Musings ……. from this side of the wall

Our search for an apartment went on for well over a year. Finally, we found ‘the one’ where we could tick off most boxes on our must-have list. Three months later, after getting the interiors ready, we moved in.

It is almost two months now and this is home. Our balcony overlooks a bunch of large trees that seems to have escaped the authorities’ proverbial axe. The trees are home to hundreds of birds! So, delightfully, right in the city we wake up to the sound of birds calling. Sipping our morning coffee, we see they are up and about already!  Sitting there we can see the expanse of the city beyond and some of its distinctive landmarks. 
The city’s notorious traffic is building up, but in the apartment, we are mostly insulated from the noise and chaos. Sometimes we hear the horn of a train, a forgotten sound from childhood. The railway station is not too far way.

Morning walks within the landscaped area are a joy. Newly planted flowering plants and fledgling trees are growing well. A large peepal tree that has been left intact by the builder now provides a green canopy near the children’s play area. The cluster of fully-grown raintrees, gulmohars, neem, copper pods, which we see from our balcony, is just outside the wall. This is where the birds live!  A little further behind there’s a medium sized Banyan tree and a couple of ‘Honge mara’ or Indian Beech. I see jackfruits hanging and mango trees that sometimes drop low hanging fruit into our compound. The breeze blows softly and I draw in a deep breath.

At the gate security staff fall in for a change of guard. The guy who washes cars is busy in the parking lots. A couple of pigeons sipping water are the only users of the swimming pool. We are just a handful of residents right now. We meet in the lift or as we hurry towards our cars, exchange warm greetings and promise to meet ‘properly’ soon. The apartment complex is a clean island of quiet and order.

From the window on the eleventh-floor landing, just outside our front door, I can get a clear view of what looks like a teeming community on the other side. Our wall serves as the dividing line. 

I see a busy street with petty shops, workshops to repair all kinds of things, a couple of mosques, temples. There are always people walking about or riding scooters. Flags tied across the street flutter in the breeze. Autorickshaws stand in line at the top of the narrow road on both sides taking up most of the space. Still cars, bikes and the ubiquitous tempos manage to squeeze past.  

The homes there are mostly two or three storied buildings painted pink or green or purple or brown or even a deep blue.  Thick grills frame stairways that go up the side of the buildings from the ground floor right up to the roof top. The open terrace is crowded with clothes lines, dish antennas and big plastic water tanks that are mostly bright yellow in colour.  

On occasion there is a shamiana rigged up on the terrace with loud music playing, signalling a celebration. I can hear metal banging as I walk along the wall on the inside. Throughout its either the muezzin’s calls to prayer or loud music from the temples, the sound of bike engines revving,  street vendors calling out in  distinctive tones, dogs barking......……….always  noisy, so much going on.

As I complete my walk I ponder the two worlds that exist side by side, divided by a wall. Which side of the wall you happen to be seems like a chance, an accident of birth.