Kalpakkkam: Mourning the loss of Character!

20 years earlier - Kalpakkam beach

I grew up in a tiny seaside hamlet called Kalpakkam. Picture an army cantonment but located in the middle of nowhere.... Got it? that's Kalpakkam. Picture it in Black and White now :)  Located midway between Pondy and Chennai, 20 years ago, it was connected by 2 small roads to Chennai (now with grandiose names like East Coast Road and Grand Trunk Road). It was a time when casurina groves nodded to the salty balmy air by the dozens everywhere. A time when swinging on Banyan trees was fun. And reading books was the greatest summer-time pursuit. When cousins visited us for 2 full months. The place did not have any restaurant or movie hall (still doesn't have the latter I think). So going out to eat or taking a train or watching a movie was a big big treat reserved for significant achievements. A time when you traveled by foot, cycle or cycle-rickshaw. It was a time when you could cross the road without looking left or right, and talk to strangers without wondering if they are kidnappers, pedophiles or sadists. A time when going by bus meant looking out of the window and figuring things out for yourself. (okay, I've finished wallowing in nostalgia, now for the rest of it!)

The same spot. Notice the plastic?

I went to Kalpakkam a few weeks ago. And HOW changed it is. Autos, buses, many may cars. Everyone as plugged in as anywhere else. No more Casurina trees. Plastic bottles, bags on the beach. You don't talk to strangers. You sanitize your hand after shaking hands. Be connected via FB, don't listen or absorb your surroundings.

What I mourn is not the modernity or the power of gadgets, but the loss of character the place had. Its now just another place. You could speak in Hindi and very well be in Indore, or speak in Telugu and be in Vizag.... or whereever. That is disturbing. Take the popular Phoenix Mills mall in Bombay. It used to be a fave, until it opened shop in Chennai. Walk in, and if you ignore the Tamil around you, you could well be shopping in Bombay!

The wonderful element called 'character' we've traded in exchange for the newest, fastest, bestest. I wish we did a bit more to preserve some element of the unique nature of our villages, cities, country in fact. The bigger consumerist players have more money, but is there anyway we can protect the artisans? Give them their place under the sun? I wonder how I would ever explain to my grandkids what a 'kumiti' is (well, its a contraption used to burn fragrant sambrani over coals to dry one's hair) or worse teach them kinship. Well, everything has its price. We lose some, gain some. Would I be able to live without my iPhone? NO! Or travel in a bullock cart? NEVER! But that doesn't mean I shouldn't mourn the loss of handmade paper or a string of flowers so thick that a child would need 2 hands to hold it or feel terrible about my beloved casurina trees now making way for highrises.