We settled on a land that was on the fringes,
We paid rent or managed to buy a small piece of land
At first, we constructed tent houses,
But now we have some concrete structures,
10/10, that’s what most of us could afford
How were we to know the difference
Of living in a place that was swampy
How were we to know the difference
Of living in a low lying area
How were we to know the difference
Of living near or on the drain
You feel sorry at our naivety,
Our riches are scare,
But we are hardworking
You may abhor us
Or pity our abysmal conditions
You wonder what secrets lie behind the filth
An eye sore you call us
You say, we have encroached
And will not escape a demolition
You pity us,
When it swells under the days of rains
And washes away our rations
And leave us sleepless…
At times you sympathise,
While we wait for some relief and rehabilitation,
But do you know of the myriad exclusions that we face?
Do you know that our representations are often taken for granted?
How do we interrogate the powerful?
We are often just described as the vulnerable
But how do you address the social justice agenda,
When you have siloed conversations?
Do you know that the city of Bengaluru is a paradox ?
While the city continues to bask in the status of the “Silicon Valley”,
We often have many uncertainties to encounter –
From the threat of evictions, to lack of basic services
And very often the lack of intergenerational mobility
Our homes are often sites for intense contestations
Our expectations are often denied or ignored
How long should be suffer from policy myopia
The hydro social scars run deep
There is panic and anguish
And while we go about our daily life
We ask this question
How long will you manipulate water?
For we cannot live in a cycle of neglect
We are hopeful of new possibilities
For us and the storm water drain
– Pinky Chandran, October 2022.
Waste Frames 