Coexistence

It’s truly a sight to behold. Standing midmorning at the side of the road, I keenly observed all the activities taking place around me. Much has been encapsulated in writing, films and pictures about the conflicting elements and structures that invariably co-exist in any geographical setting in India. The result is a plethora of images, colours, sounds and smells all coming together at once and overwhelming the senses. No matter how much one acclimates to this, a new experience awaits on the next day.

The broken sole of my sandal had prompted this trip; a slow walk to the main area of 4th Block in search of a cobbler. After asking around, I found one nestled precariously in a corner of a four way intersection. An odd place it seemed to conduct business, but the small endeavor had all the exposure it needed, from the pedestrian and the cars that passed by. Swarming with characters, the adherence to the oncoming traffic is minimal with the driver from each direction making a dash towards the intersection as if on a crusade of life, attempting to cut the other car that also races to cross the spot. The sound is one of the clutters of calamitous elements strewn into a sense of impending catastrophe. Even with my camera I could not adequately sum up the interesting elements in this simmering cauldron of clichés. The street patrolled in the mornings by a pot-bellied wonder (policeman) who as his role as a ringmaster attempts to control this unorganized patterns of cars intermixed with pedestrians. The public for the most part is aggrieved by his incoherent yells and whistles. The most unexpected structure is the Jain temple that forms the corner of one intersection with its peaceful space forming the opposite to the busiest street on the block. The devotees adorned in simple attire also attempt to cross as well.

There was no other choice for me, as a size 12 shoe is hard to find. After getting across as I sat in the small stall, it amazed me how both the traffic and people seemed to seamlessly flow like water in the river (albeit with very loud horns and some occasional yelling). The severity of the situation was only obvious when a car almost ran over my foot which made me realize that the space of the cobbler was actually in the intersection. In a few minutes he had stitched my shoes for 20 rupees. As I tried my repaired sandal, a new customer unhappy with the price she was quoted started telling me in Kannada how the price for her was not right. My attempts to explain that I did not speak the language and that I was in no way associated with the store were in vain as she had found a caring listener. As she concluded I responded with a sad “kya kare” (what to do) and swirled my hand in surrender. Happy with my role I took leave, crossed and took this picture when the crowd dissipated for those odd seconds, but somehow it was not able to capture the intensity and hurly-burly of the street.