My Lost Paradise
Written and Illustrated by
Uttara M Nanda
My Lost Paradise
Written and Illustrated by
Uttara M Nanda
SAMPANGI LAKE AND ITS SURROUNDINGS, 1835
Sampangi lake
Open Land and Gardens Buildings
Roads
1
2
‘Once upon a time, this was my lake’, I whispered to myself as I stared at the Kanteerava stadium. The memories came rushing back to me, the collective sound of laughter of my friends and I jumping into the lake. The thrill of the cool blue water as we splashed around with joy. The Sampangi lake was no more than just a small ritualistic ground for the Karaga festival now.
Turn to page 4 if you want to know about the Karaga festival. Turn to page 7 if you want to carry on with the story.
3
44
I remember celebrating the Karaga festival as a child. The Dharmrajaswami Temple would be decorated with beautiful and colourful flowers and lit up at night. Ah such a majestic sight - it was quite grand to look at! The Veerakumara, or the priest of the temple would come to our home, adorned with his regal head dress. It was the size of the Veerakumara himself and was made of tiny jasmine flowers. He carried a sword with him and struck his bare chest with it saying “dik-di dik-di� as he did so. Seeing this, my eyes would well up, but Amma always held on to me tightly and gave me sweets afterwards, to make me feel better.
Turn to page 7.
5
As I walk back home from the stadium, I think about the good old days. From the corner of my eye I see a boy, not more than 15 handing out flyers to passers by. A sign beside him says “Help save the fish in Ulsoor Lake!”. I walk upto him, curious, ‘What is happening in Ulsoor lake?’ ‘The fish are dying because the water is too polluted!’ said the boy. ‘What are the reasons for the pollution?’ I asked. ‘The sewage water has entered the lake which has led to the depletion of oxygen.’ He answered with urgency and desperation in his voice.
6 6
‘Aren’t the authorities going to do something about it?’ I asked. ‘They haven’t done anything yet, though we tried our best. So now we have started our own campaign to help save the lake.’ Replied the boy. On hearing this, I remembered the protests that I was a part of when I was trying to save the Sampangi lake from being taken over by the authorities.
Turn to page 8 to go to the narrator’s childhood. Turn to page 10 to continue with the conversation between the narrator and the child.
7
Amma says that I am home now. But am I really? Everything that I remember from my childhood is no longer here, the lake is gone, and so are the gardens. Everything has been replaced by housing communities and a vast concrete jungle. Alas, the march of so called civilization has gobbled up my paradise.
Turn to page 5.
8
I had just woken up from my afternoon siesta when Amma came to me with a glass of milk. She sat beside me with her arm around my shoulder and said, ‘Shreesha, I have some bad news. The lake you go to with your friends to play with is going to be destroyed. A stadium is going to be built over it.’ ‘What? Amma, no! That cannot be true!’ ‘I’m afraid that is the truth. But I can talk to some people and see what we can do about it.’ That evening I heard Amma making repeated phone calls to people. She came to me before bed time and told me that others too weren’t happy about this and wanted to protest. I told her that I wanted to help. She gave me a good night kiss on my forehead and said, ‘We’ll talk about this tomorrow, Shree. Sleep for now.’ Next day in school my teacher, Mrs. Swati also spoke to us about this matter. She told us that the school was going to protest against the growing urbanisation in this area, and so, whoever wanted to help, could make some posters, drawings and paintings. I went home and sat with my Amma to build a strong message that we could use. In a few hours we were ready with thought provoking posters and drawings. We all worked very hard to change the mind of the authorities, but no amount of reasoning worked. We felt defeated. But at least we had tried, because if we hadn’t, I would have kept wondering “what if?”
9
A week later, I saw that the construction of the stadium had started. Slowly the lake was drained and a swampy area soon emerged. Later, this too was filled with concrete. Crossing the site every day I would relive the memories in my head. The lake was a very special place for my friends and I because it held so many memories of childhood for us. We used to swim, dive and splash around in the water. And then it was gone. Eventually, we moved our recreation space to the gardens adjoining the lake. But soon, they were replaced by housing communities that came up there. This marked the end of my childhood.
Turn to page 11 to go back to the conversation between the narrator and the child.
10
11
‘I would love to help you’, I said to the boy. ‘You can come to the lake around 5:30pm on Sunday. We are organising a protest march. I hope to see you there.’ ‘Yes, I’ll certainly join you.’ I affirmed.
12
When we sat down for dinner, Amma and I discussed the Ulsoor lake problem. She said to me, that in the case of the Sampangi lake, while humans overtook the space, at the Ulsoor lake, the fish were dying because of plants itself. ‘Isn’t it funny’, Amma said, ‘how it isn’t only humans that destroy nature, but nature destroys itself too?’
SAMPANGI LAKE AND ITS SURROUNDINGS, 2014
Sampangi Lake Open Land and Gardens Buildings
Kanteerava Stadium
Roads
ABOUT THE BOOK “The lake was a very special place for my friends and I because it held so many memories of childhood for us. We used to swim, dive and splash around in the water. And then it was gone. Eventually, we moved our recreation space to the gardens adjoining the lake. But soon, they were replaced by housing communities that came up there. This marked the end of my childhood.�