Tales of cities are inevitably bound to the rivers on which they lie - at least on maps, if no longer otherwise in reality. Yet, in general, the interfaces of Asian and European cities with their respective rivers are so different. Contrasted with the way the Germans perceive, protect and preserve their rivers, we in India seem to treat them as lifeless givens of a stale landscape.
I can recall a French language class in which I spontaneously constructed a sentence saying that Delhi has no river and then suddenly, recalling Geography and switching to English, I corrected that Yamuna is indeed supposed to meander through Delhi. (Yes, the same Yamuna which now decorates the backdrop of the Taj only in picture postcards). I tried to remember the last time I ever heard or saw anything of the Yamuna. Ms Dixit - in one of those Kodak moments of 'Clean the Yamuna Drive' - surrounded by filth, grit, and netas flashed upon my inward eye.
Perhaps (and hopefully) things are a bit different in say Kolkata or Guwahati - I do not know. The Hooghly and Bhramaputra are intertwined with the cities' economic fabric, crucially facilitating trade and transportation.
But if you're from anywhere close to the capital, when was the last time you sensed a bond to a river? Yes, certainly, even I've taken a dip or two at the sangam in Allahabad and observed the people performing rituals on the ghats of the Ganges in Patna. But I mean a poignant, even emotional sort of a connection, which the Germans seem to share with their rivers so naturally.
I can recall my boss in Berlin who shifted his residence thrice within a year and finally settled for walking an extra ten-minutes to the nearest tram to work just so that he can have a balcony view of the Spree - the river which streams through Berlin.
I must confess, however, that I passed by this 'river' for a week before someone told me that what I had been mistaking for an expansive lake was actually the river I had been looking for! But you cannot say the same for the Rhein. It is indeed one of the most uplifting experiences to jog along the Rhein in beautiful Bonn.
Little wonder then, that the river inspired the ballads of many German poets. It is nothing short of a spectacle to see - and see the Germans see - the glow of the Rhein illuminating a perfect landscape. River Elbe similarly decorates Dresden (yes, the same Elbe, floods in which turned life upside down in Dresden in 2002). You guessed it, Main in 'Frankfurt am Main' does not refer to the main station or the main city but to the sizzling river Main.
What I also find fascinating is how rivers are integrated in city life in most European cities. Places are described as near, over or far from the river and exclusive tram or metro stations are devoted to them. The banks have a life of their own - barbeques are planned, picnic mats are spread out, skins are amply tanned, love is lost and found.
{{/usCountry}}What I also find fascinating is how rivers are integrated in city life in most European cities. Places are described as near, over or far from the river and exclusive tram or metro stations are devoted to them. The banks have a life of their own - barbeques are planned, picnic mats are spread out, skins are amply tanned, love is lost and found.
{{/usCountry}}Our rivers also make headlines, but often for the wrong reasons. Narmada invokes an image of controversial dams. Cauvery waters almost evaporated in the heat generated by the fight over their ownership by two states.
Of course, superlatives seem to have been invented for our Ganges - it is the holiest, prettiest river and with nearly 400 million people, its river basin is also the most populous in the world. Sadly, the river is also one of the dirtiest, with one of the highest counts of bacteria indicating pollution by sewage contamination. While we agree that the Ganga washes our sins, we also agree that the river needs a wash-up herself.
Yes, on many fronts the comparison is unfair. After all, the Germans do no need to wash their clothes, animals, utensils and sins at their rivers. And for most of us in India, a river is a utilitarian and geographical entity before anything else - serving us and our ashes throughout and even after our lives. Certainly one cannot expect our fishermen to put aside their nets, spread out their mats and idly picnic on the banks of the rivers which sustain them.
What I do admire however, is the devotion which the Germans reserve for their rivers as remarkable pieces of nature even in the midst of concrete, supersonic speed and alienation typical to the busiest and most developed cities. Rivers are admired as islands of beauty, a place to just stand and stare - something, sadly, we have either forgotten or never learnt.