Cities make people and people make cities. To exist in the city is to bear witness to routine all around us. Mid-morning sounds of the neighborhood trinket-peddler, timely prayer calls from houses of worship, anticipating the usual thunderous local train, impatience at the sixty-second traffic jam, the crowded waiting area outside that popular café, and a thicket of trees blooming in springtime; these recurring images, feelings and associations are our points of reference for being city-dwellers. However, during the unprecedented CoVid-19 lockdown, these experiences of the city abruptly came to a screeching halt!

Apart from the many silences we experienced during the lockdown around the world, the loudest silence was the absence of public life in public spaces. For a few days, the city and its spaces blurred and became part of our memories and dreams of it. Through this time, a recurring question and gnawing fear remained; about forgetting street names, public transit routes, the specific shape and form of buildings, and everyday titillation of one’s senses- ‘what if I forget the city? “ This question led to the next inevitable one…” what if the city forgets me?.”

Much Like most cities and urban spaces of the world and India, the city of Ahmedabad, Gujarat too came to an abrupt pause-a complete standstill that is obverse to its true nature of constant business dealings, tumultuous traffic, and nights of busy food markets!

While the historic walled city in east Ahmedabad, India is otherwise easily accessible ;during this separation, forbidden behind barricades of “No Entry”, the 600 year old walled city precinct was farther away than ever before. As a constant source of not only raw material, an array of goods at wholesale prices and venues for heritage walks, the old city is a living, breathing ecosystem of places, people and stories.

During quarantine, on the other side of medieval city gates eateries, monuments and markets that once pulsated with activity suddenly became desolate. As with most densely populated cities in a world affected by a pandemic, the old city of Ahmedabad was a point of tension, negotiating between the absence of people and architectural spaces, such as Manek Chowk, Jami Masjid and Bhadra Square, which came alive due to the very presence of people. These scenes and images, populated by a perpetual flow of people buying, selling, eating, wandering, begging, washing, watching and being; are equal and opposite to the isolation and voluntary confinement we faced within our homes and minds. Even the act of making tea at home repeatedly reminded one of the metal kitli at teashops like Bhole Tea centre or Lucky Tea stall. It’s impossible to miss the coolness of kota stone seats under an ancient tree on Ashram Road or by the Sabarmati riverfront, a small clear glass of perfectly spiced chai in hand …with the city rushing on around you!

During long lockdown days, often, the mind wandered beyond closed gates and into night markets that reveled in food and bright lights, into the smell of freshly baked bread along Biscuit Galli or even the textures of brick and mortar of medieval monuments juxtaposed with constructions in concrete and glass. Beyond this area, the Riverfront is a stark backdrop for a variety of activities; couples stargazing, morning walkers, cyclists and commuters taking a break to relax in the vast expanse of trees and gardens along the river. For weeks though, the Sabarmati river flowed on, in between concrete embankments, unwitnessed and passing by a still and silent city.

Slowly, as the lockdown opens, the city is being re-remembered, re-learnt and met once again!

Essay By: Ar. Niharika Joshi and Pun: Chat Team