Grey and Green

04^th April 2011

Grey and Green

Airports: something about them is so impersonal yet there is this feeling of belonging somewhere; a strumming of activity as things go on smoothly and without a sound or with minimal sound. No one seems to talk to nobody. Some people busy on their phones, some with their laptops, each one looking, at a key pad, a mobile screen or a computer screen. Or perhaps, just sipping coffee or biting into a snack. Larger airports with less people give a feeling of space, and a sense of belonging, especially in a foreign country where you have to deal with the unknown once you are out. An odd sense of belonging even if only for a short while. Here, you have someone to depend on and someone to help you, that is, only if one has a valid ticket to somewhere. One cannot loiter around aimlessly without a valid ticket the way we can do on railway platforms with just a three rupee platform ticket, or sometimes, if you are lucky to hoodwink the TT, without one. One cannot boisterously, shout out at someone, or spit or rant rabidly the way we can do in our railway stations. Here, even the most unruly people seem to behave in a disciplined manner. Check-in, security, baggage claims, arrivals, departures, traveling by plane is always such a big story. But something is amiss, in the older hyderabadi airport, which was still the noisy, boisterous place, for every passenger traveling, there would be 20 people saying good byes. The way they do at train stations. But since this new swanky airport with all its big glass and chrome structure has come up some 40 kilometers outside the city, going all the way to see off relatives has become a big issue. People would still have come, but for the rules of not allowing visitors inside the premises. And then after paying through your nose for the travel to the airport shelling out a hundred each for just a few last looks inside the gate is just not a great idea in these days of skyrocketing cost of living. So, it is thus, that while people did their best to continue the tradition of saying their final good byes in big strong crowds, after a few hassled trips all the way and then burning a hole in ones’ pockets, people now just say their good byes at home, and let the taxi guy do the final bye-byes. So, sitting under the gigantic grey roof of the new airport, with its spick and span interiors and exteriors, one begins to wonder if indeed this is Hyderabad. The airport of Hyderabad was a landmark, bang in the centre of the city. With its ugly ramp and yellow government buildings, pan stains on the stairways, it had its draw backs, but then it seemed like Hyderabad, the city and its culture extended even inside the airport. The new airport is a different place, disconnected with the outside, dimembered from the city and looking like every other airport of the world, all grey, chrome and steel. As, I look at the grey granite flooring I wonder about the rocks of Hyderabad, that must have transformed from their ethereal characters into this nameless, faceless entity called flooring that looks as grey as the walls. The plants hanging from here and there, remind us of the “green” tag given to this place, but they also remain as vestiges of the lush green villages which were erased to make this concrete and steel monolith structure. A world of cockerel calls, cow bells and shepherds’ song now replaced by piped music and flight announcements from sound systems.