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“Who knows the end? What has risen may sink, and what has sunk may rise. Loathsomeness waits and dreams in the deep, and decay spreads over the tottering cities of men.” H.P Lovecraft- ‘The Call of Cthulhu’.
Before Guwahati became an urbane bait at the altar of neonesque pursuits ‘engineered’ by the ambitious ‘delights’ of the incorrigible harbingers of a out of spun neo-capitalism, the ominous howling of jackals from the surrounding hills and the raspiness from vultures perched on dead sinewy trees evanesced, deafening our imaginative nostalgic zeal to hear the sounds from the past.
The diminishing of insurgency posited a question. Can the ushers of peace now offer economic succour? Post ‘peace’ the continuing episodes when Guwahati began actuating baby steps in the nascent 2000s were superimposed montages of ‘areas for development’.
Photo: NEZINE
The birthing of a new Guwahati was caressed and tendered by the fathomless seduction of total pseudo-Americana self-indulgent capitalism. Offshoots were a syndicated real estate boom that slithered and then hissed into rural pockets. The doctrine of Assamese simplicity made a crossover to credit cardism.
The city’s exit points were almost fixed. Pandu in the city’s western point and now defunct Kamrup Flour mill at the mouth of G.S Road in the southern junction of the city posed as an invisible milestone for a traversing traveller positing a signage-out of the city.
Switcheroo to the present the linear G.S Road serves as ‘the bastion’ of the uber neonesque Guwahati marked from the capitulation of the city’s once southern exit point to the complete metamorphosis of a glitzy financial capital, a wannabe Fifth Avenue in New York City.
Lined with high-end avenues for shopping bonanzas purchasing detail items tagged with ‘envious’ brand names of global zeal G.S road with its neon grandeur epitomises as what American comedian and political commentator Bill Maher with his iconic yet scathing comic zeal defines as ‘a condition called Affluenza’.
Maher in one of his Real Time with Bill Maher segments said, “Ask your doctor if being rich is right for you.” Maher directed his scathing comic at his fellow super entitled and privileged Americans, especially the younger folks.
G.S Road has drawn an invisible snarky line between the noveau riche and the struggling middle class. The former opts for the sprawling, expensive and expansive malls the latter filled-to-the-brim shops at Fancy or Paltan Bazaar with zealous bargaining spirit.
The blanketing of digital anarchism has surpassed the collective spirit of ‘adda’. Grapevine was at the pinnacle of such ‘adda’ so was politics, philosophy, current affairs et al. Localities, once held iconic for ‘adda’ are being replaced by the callousness shared on social media.
This deliberate social detachment emanating from an increasing class divide is eviscerating one of the nostalgic spirits of Guwahati.
Theatre director, actor, former journalist and senior faculty at Royal Global University Sattyakee D’com Bhuyan said, “In Guwahati every lane had its own soul and script. Every adda was an unscripted performance. Every face in adda areas was acquainted. Uzanbazaar felt like home beyond four walls. Panbazaar was for the young minds meeting point. Guwahati is hurrying. The echoes of those golden days is fainter like a poignant monologue lost in the noise of an unfeeling crowd.”
The context of today’s Guwahati is defined by the serpentine imagery of flyovers and continuous construction of towering skylines. Panbazaar, at one point of time was defined as a locality of thousand evenings and the zenith of its core characteristic was that it served as a time portal to the past.
Today Panbazaar appears to be totally forlorn, its attaching nostalgic determination annexed by an invading ambitious zeal of power-hungry supremos at the helm of affairs. The never-ending thousand evenings is now heavily coated with hazardous PM 2.5 particles rendering the nostalgic chutzpah of the locality to a haunting shadow seeking a hideaway.
The follies of rapid and unplanned urbanisation and the sudden abandonment of Assamese simplicity, an anachronism for many, and the assiduous ordeal to emulate the tenacity of a ‘life in a metro’ has all culminated onto the constant hankering and pursuit of the cliched yet ‘apocryphal good life’ sans the consequences of after whatever.
Masaddar Hussain, a sexagenarian, and a civil society activist from Machkhowa said, “Guwahati is losing its past roots. Yesteryears were simple. Standing by the Chariali at Gauhati Baptist Church was a time travelling experience. Today it has become dusty and crammed. The nostalgic spirit is fading away.”
Photo: NEZINE
For a pedestrian the uneven walking pavements littered with human mucous, chasms (a misstep is a definite visit to the nearest ER), construction debris, illegal parked vehicles, human excrements of vagabonds etc.
Peak monsoons indulge murky floodwaters invade these pavements. Inundated walking pavements illude a pedestrian. Uncovered chasms on it tantamount to a ground clustered with camouflaged landmines.
Arshel Akhter, an avid cyclist and an active mobility advocate and co-founder of Purvca Foundation said, “Sustainable development has been reduced to a footnote in official plans. Economic growth has taken over conservation. A modern city is balanced with development and with sustainability. Guwahati has become a generic urban space.”
After the jackals and vultures, the city’s natural green covers are fast depleting. The bluish contours of the hills in the city now appears dirt brown. Obtrusive big iron claws from JCBs ripping apart sylvan hill covers symbolises conspicuous urbane exploitation.
Actor Arghadeep Baruah of the critically acclaimed Assamese film Amis shared his thoughts as, “The city is no longer what is used to be. Urbanisation has robbed the city its sheen of nostalgia. For me the way forward is with those who will inherit the city, the children. To walk with them through these spaces and to tell them the stories the city holds and to help them see that even amidst all this change there is still life waiting to be remembered, understood and revived”.
Conservationist Jayaditya Purkayastha founder of Help Earth, an NGO conserving Guwahati’s endangered wildlife said, “Guwahati’s nostalgia is married with its natural topography. Hazardous urbanisation is preying upon both nostalgia and natural glory. Man-animal conflict is common. King Cobras are intruding into human habitats. They are shy creatures. They are wary about humans. Loss of their own habitats and prey have forced them to come out of hiding.”
A burgeoning city’s expansive economic paradox itself holds a contrarian quotient to the Assamese laahe-laahe identity.
Yes, life was slow but steady. Change is the only constant in the universe, but should we wait for evisceration of our nostalgia, ergo the dissipated howling of the jackals and vultures.
Or fortify our future progeny to scavenge upon our loss of simplicity and bounty of land and soil to live in a city of utter discontent.
Like a deer caught in a car’s headlights. Shocked and awed but too late to act or react.
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