I had a startling revelation this morning. These days, I habitually encounter trees in this city as if they were lingering representatives of a species under threat of extinction. I cannot help myself. I see a tree and almost reflexively also imagine its absence. What would this space look like, this street become if this tree were to be felled, if only the stump were to remain of this massive tree, its luxuriating branches and dense foliage surgically excised, like a cancerous outgrowth.
I had a somewhat combative conversation with my father this morning. He called to declare his plan of lunching this weekend with the parents of a girl who may become my brother’s bride. He wanted me to make a flying visit to Hyderabad for the occasion. I advised caution, “hurrying slowly”, and only after my brother had endorsed the plan. My consultative tone appears to have grated my father. “Look, I’m not stupid ok?”, he said, hotly. While momentarily taken aback, I’ve learnt to adjust, over the years, to my father’s temperamentality, to ignore the harshness of his words with the patience of one who overlooks the tantrums and fits of a patient, or an infant. My father is a “good intentioned” man, somewhat despotically convinced that his good intentions pervade everything he does. To question his conduct is to question his inmost fiber.
The conversation with my father this morning brought back memories of a meeting of the Yellappa Reddy Committee that I attended in November last year. The committee was constituted by the High Court to review the large scale tree-felling plans of the BBMP. It is charged with the task of eliciting public opinion on tree felling and to pass orders necessary to preserve greenery. Contrary to the High Court’s mandate, the chairman Yellappa Reddy sees himself as an “expert” appointee, capable of pronouncing on behalf of and as the public. At one point in the the meeting I attended (in response to a call for wider public participation) he abruptly exclaimed “You think we are fools sitting here? Every child in Karnataka knows Yellappa Reddy. Don’t you have any faith in me?”
There’s a similarity of structure, I think, between Yellappa Reddy’s and my father’s outburst. After 28 years of being a parent, my father, probably justifiedly sees “thinking and acting in the best interests of children” as his exclusive preserve. Any collateral attempts by other “interested parties” (viz me) are acts of mutiny, no less.
With Yellappa Reddy and his BBMP flunkies, there’s a pervasive attitude of condescending “expertness” that one encounters with them. As government appointees, they see themselves as invested with the sovereign power of determining the fate of the numberless trees (timber) under their dominion. Any attempts by concerned citizens like me are viewed derisively – as if we were naive officious interveners who were taxing their “expert” time.
I’ve realised something. The constitution of the BBMP as the overlord of the city and its trees, has configured me as an alien interloper within its limits. My passage through the city is permitted, but any possessive feeling of “belonging to” the city is vigorously resisted. Specifically, under this arrangement, I may never grow fond of, adore, worship, or relate directly to/with a tree in this city. Because of the Karnataka Municipal Council’s Act, I can only ever relate to a tree as a stranger or disinterested “third-party”. There’s an invisible “arm’s length” between the trees in this city and me, and I have no business. To attempt to bridge this length is to question the apparatus of the state, to attempt insurrection.
Here’s what I might have said if I had business:
Krishna Udupudi, Deputy Chief Conservator of forests, Bruhat Bangalore Mahanagara Palike (BBMP) told The Hindu. These trees are set to be felled for widening the two roads for the smooth flow of traffic.Mr. Udupudi said.“We had divided the 66 trees into eight lots, which means that the bidder will have to buy the entire lot. The lot with three mahogany trees netted the maximum of Rs. 70, 000,” said Mr. Udupudi.
Further, he explained that the value of the tree depends on the species, girth and height of the tree. “A mahogany or timber tree will fetch us more than say a gulmohar. Some of the trees fetch very less because the cost of felling the tree itself is steep,” he said. Apart from the mahogany trees, all others fetched prices on par with the government value, he added.
