Headline: A river runs through it…..
Mulayam’s parting gift to UP—Sunset Point….
Till yesterday it was known as Lucknow’s Marine Drive. Now its status remains uncertain. Ambedkar Path? Ramabai lane? Maya Avenue? Sannu ki-- ki farq peinda hai? (Abbreviated-- Sannu ki-KFP!)
The old order changeth, yielding place to new--- lest one good custom should corrupt the world…
My understanding of UP politics may be limited but I am sure glad that the Bhaiyyas of the Cowdung beltare at least a notch better than Lalooland. When we decide to use it, the UP bhaiyyas IQ level is decidedly higher!
So while all other parties get ready for summer vacations and hope for the terra infirma of UP politics to settle – nature springs up an answer which assures, Hope Floats…springing up what we all are praying is not a Himalayan blunder. Yours truly decided to take a walk down to Marine drive and see the Sahar and the Be sahara sides of it for myself. (Les Miz for the enlightened)
Like the hapless Robin Williams in Dead Poet’s Society, I set out with a mission—Carpe diem--- for yesterday is a foggy memory and tomorrow hangs on the razor’s edge of a sliver of hope. All I have is today! Carpe Diem—Seize the day!
As a journalist one is always privy to a lot more information than one generally sees in your daily newspaper – as a maverick vagabond who has accepted Alexander’s Pope’s quote as the gospel truth (A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, Drink deep or touch not this pierial spring….) your mind wanders in its wanderlust, seeking solace. An equilibrium which will lay this terra infirma to rest so that the Ground Beneath Our Feet at least, Mr Rushdie, is stable!
Like a seeker pining for the Holy Grail, a Jedi on Mission Impossible, a Reiki grandmaster calling upon his disciples to participate in a universal Reiki Marathon,
The answer comes to you in a fractal split— a sight that leaves you spellbound with its beauty. And mind you, the Fingers of God haven’t caressed it fully yet--- a natural lake formed at the edge of Marine Drive—an old British clock tower smarting at the sight of a train searing city limits and heading with a vengeance towards the remotest country of the land which this city would have reclaimed in 1857…if only a Scottish general vowed on the blood of his dead at the Sateechaura Ghat that his men would not rest till they avenged the death of their 200 odd women and children slain mercilessly on the order of but a slave girl. But that’s another story…
A picture speaks a thousand words – which translated in journalistic jargon means—no word limit—use a great picture—fill up the empty spaces in new page grid that bleeds everyday with rapes and murders, the plight of the hungry, the sick and the afflicted—the Les Miz for whom tomorrow never comes…
I have no idea what was being built here, I have no idea how many crores went where, and no guarantee that the corridors of power will not “shed another teardrop on the cheek of time” but I know that Lakhnau’s Marine Drive will always remain that, with a new addition--- Sunset Point—a natural lake which the Ghoomti suddenly decided to deliver as a slap across the face of time. In the backdrop stands the lofty La Martiniere, from where the ‘brave’ English fled to the refuge of the Residency just at the rumours of the ‘bloody Pandies’ exchanging bread and flowers with a vow that Sitara gir padega… the Khodang Gadar—the First Battle of Indian Independence! Just a few days more and we would have had the Indian flag flying night and day over the Residency…but that’s the tale many a slip netwixt the cup and the lip.
And just as the plight of my heartland’s terra infirma springs a question before me, the answer comes back in the sound of a song, hummed by a brother who still sings ghazals with an English accent ----
Every gambler knows,
The secret to survival
Is to know when and what to throw away
Know when and what to keep
‘coz every hand’s a winner
and every hand’s a loser
--and the best that you can hope for is to die and to sleep!
My heartiest salute to the UP bhaiyyas— both for their poltical acumen and their skills at Russian roulette --- adieu MSY, Aadab Mayawati--- Hum honge kaamyab ek din!
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