Last evening's pre-monsoon thunder shower was so cooling, I didn't mind getting drenched. My only worry was my laptop and the just bought pack of mangoes. It was funny in a sense that I walked out a little early from Krishibhavan and the office crowd were not heading home as yet. There were many auto-rickshaw sitting idle- but each of them charged me an amount that were mostly unjustified. Soaked completely I negotiated one with rather reasonable rate and came home; unfortunately by that time the rain has stopped. A little hope to sit in the balcony watching or to get wet once again was so far from reality.

In our current circumstances, we are too bound by our social environment to celebrate the change, the glimpse of days to come; enjoy the essential cycles that upholds lives in Nature. Our built environment needs protection from anything thats natural, be it the the human being (the reason for security everywhere is understood; strange though, its our die hard wish to save us from ourselves), be it storm or cockroaches. We realized in our new house the electricity board cuts off the power during a storm- we providing solutions where nature seems to be hurdle. Temporary switching off the power certainly does not hurt, but it makes you wonder: is there just a hint of exclusivity that builds our contemporary living spaces?

But there was a brighter side of the power cut: the fading light seeping through gray cloud was beautiful as we sat and watched. The birds and the darkness that slowly unwound itself from the shadows of trees- we would have been long inside our house if power was there.

The situation was entirely different this morning. The pre-monsoon shower was like sprinkling water on a hot pan. The vapour rising from the wet ground added to the merciless sky. Celebrating nature was far from desire and the idea was to quickly get back home. Still, going down the road that connects Koba with Gandhinagar highway, things looked different. The village road was submerged in water and still struggling to breathe. Other than the dry leaves and sand washed to the side of the roads, they looked clean. A strange haze, a thin muslin of vapour wrapped the trees and the fallen leaves- not to be seen but felt. The two ponds at the bend of the road seemed content and full with a few dots of white, a couple of egrets flocking its greens. The grass, though not green (I laughed at myself with the stupid thought!!) as if got a new lease of life- a sense of possibilities, a sense of days to come and deep desire to quench their thirst certainly made them look greener, eager to lap up the first drops again.

But the traffic continued without wondering about these subtle changes. Trying to outdo each other in speed, often creating situations that makes you grab the cleavage of the auto rickshaw seat. In a few days i will get back my car and will join the race; leaving behind the leisure of a rickshaw, jumping back into the emerging economy and consumerism of post modern India.

In about a week's time, there would be number of mother riding their two wheelers on these roads. Trying to reach their children to school in time, coping up with the daily household chore. With heavy rain lashing the duo, they would try their best to continue their evening tuitions and drawing classes. There would not be a separate space for them on the road, no separate lane. Struggling, they would fight time racing with increasing traffic of the highway. On the other hand seasonal changes come with some preparation in Nature. As if the cycles have been put through a vigorous testing of what works. Every bit of water has its micro ecology, sustaining the smaller groups through the cyclic changes by adapting to them. Migration, winter sleep, ability to walk across a mud pool with gills and fins- the tools for adaptation are enormous by sheer virtue.

The thought of traffic comes back, how is it the every flow has undercurrents, flow withing flow, some warm, some cold. Each of these hidden rivers sustaining its own ecology, swinging the floating lives from one end to the other of our planet. Do we see the possible similarity that could change our traffic system? A flow within flow, that supports the small group of commuters, by giving them a chance to drive safe. Universality of design can only come from creating a pattern, components being very local, very small. Universality is the principle of doing something as small as preparing a small lane especially for struggling mothers and two wheelers, and telling them why its better to stick to that lane (radio mirchi?). Like using the flow of the the river, slightly channeling it the trout farm of Nagaini, Himachal Pradesh. Creating new infrastructure is not of help, unless its value is felt in public mind: a gratitude towards ability to understand perspective.

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