A light breeze is enough to send up clouds of dust, even without the numerous trucks and motorcycles passing by. The landscape is a light brown for as far as the eye can see, with an under-construction flyover blocking the view every now and then. But for the faint odour that wafts in, this could well be a scene from the Sangam in Allahabad, complete with sandy beaches, sundry temporary stalls and an equal amount of garbage.
This large piece of land, close to 1,000 acres, that is a part of the Yamuna's floodplain in New Delhi, witnessed Art of Living's World Culture Festival last week. I am not alone in using the Sangam allegory: on March 11, Prime Minister Narendra Modi tweeted that the festival is the Kumbh Mela of culture".
Art of Living's spiritual leader, Sri Sri Ravi Shankar, faced the ire of activists and the National Green Tribunal for environmental violations that would occur when an event of this scale - the festival is said to have seen 3.5 million footfalls -- is hosted in an ecologically sensitive region.
While the tribunal suggested that a damage of up to Rs 120 crore has been done to the land, it slapped a fine of Rs 5 crore on Art of Living as "environmental compensation". Though Art of Living has insisted the event would in no way impact the river or the floodplain, the scale of the event tells a different story.
The long walk to the seven-acre main stage is made longer by the countless potholes. The three-day festival, which started on March 11, saw heavy rains on the first day of the event, making the entire area slushy. As I make my way in two days after the event, the soil feels soft under my feet, almost like quicksand. I pass by shrubs and small trees that look positively desolate.
According to local residents, the entire walkway from the entrance was populated with shrubs and trees. A part of the walkway bears evidence of concrete, while the rest is sandy in parts and slushy in others.
At the central location, countless workers are busy dismantling the large stage and various other tin sheds. Juice boxes and upturned food trays add colour to the land, which is now green with endless rolls of carpets instead of grass. Where the carpets are rolled, long black polythene sheets, used to shield the carpets and their occupants from water and rain, flutter about.
Workers from BVG, the company contracted to manage housekeeping and cleaning, take a break on a few chairs. Over 100 BVG's employees have been tasked with cleanliness, according to Ravi Shankar, the project lead at the venue. He adds that several Art of Living volunteers have helped them collect garbage.
In a press release, Art of Living said its volunteers have been working round the clock for the cleanup. The contractors, though, say that the volunteers usually come in by 10 am and leave by 4 pm. I visit the venue on two separate days at different times of the day and can still not spot any Art of Living volunteer.
Ready for the challenge
BVG workers have bigger woes. "If it were up to us, we would have completed the cleaning in about 10 days. These large installations are delaying our work," says the spiritual leader's namesake, pointing towards the shed that was used to serve meals to the guests.
Several tiny meal tickets lay strewn about, many of them embedded in the soft soil. While surface garbage may be easier to target, it is the waste that has sunken into the soil that will be hard to extract. The workers, though, seem unfazed by such questions. "We will handle everything," they say with confidence.
As I am about to walk on further, a Russian couple walks up to the BVG crew to inquire about the woman's lost passport. "Up until this moment [before losing her passport], my time at the festival has been very enjoyable," she says. Nothing can sway her away from her devotion for Art of Living and her "love for India". "We knew that the level of hygiene would not be perfect, so we were mentally prepared," she says.
Closer to the stage, the extent of work and the scale of operations appear more daunting. The scene looks like the construction site of a large infrastructure project. Standing at the centre, the stage is a replica of what the ghats of Varanasi look like from a boat on the Ganga. A few local residents are finding a way to climb their way to the top. "Who knows when we'll get to see the Yamuna from such a vantage point again?" one of them laughs.
While all of them agree that there used to be a lot of vegetation on this brown land, there is also a strange sense of pride in their voice. "Whatever you may say, we cannot doubt that this Baba has made India famous." None of them knows what his name is or what Art of Living does.
A group of workers is busy stacking chairs and sofas and loading them onto one of the many trucks that are parked near the stage. Another group is working with hammers to dismantle the stage. I spot a few of them looking intently at the sky. Following their gaze, I see the large lamp posts that were installed for the event, with men on long ladders unhooking the heavy floodlights -- not a single one of them is wearing a hard-hat.
A five-member crew from the District Disaster Management Authority has arrived at the venue for a recce. While one of the officials tells me that he is primarily here to survey the garbage disposal, he does seem perturbed by the lack of protective gear for the workers.
"Largely, I feel, a lot of the area is clean and no apparent damage, at least cleanliness-wise, has been done to this land," he says. On the ecology front, though, he is reluctant to comment. "The Yamuna looks as it did before, so at least they didn't dump the garbage there."
But there's more to the damage than cleaning the river. Vimlendu Jha, environmental activist and executive director at NGO Swechha, says the worry for ecology does not stem from a "romantic notion of a blue river", but is an issue of basic survival.
"Human intervention can never replicate the natural topology of an area. Such callous use of this land is eventually damaging for the public, both ecologically and in terms of public resources that will be spent in reversing the damage," he explains. "There is clear evidence that grasslands were chopped and marshes were filled with concrete. Using concrete on such land reveals how the organisers chose convenience over ecology."
As I make my way towards one of the contractors for the tents, the distinct stench of a public urinal assaults my nostrils. As I peer further, I see a row of portable toilets that are lined together far away from the stage. The dignitaries and guests of honour were clearly insulated from such harsh realities, the odour from the Yamuna included.
The contractors tell me that close to 1,000 people across various agencies and departments are involved in the cleanup and that it would take close to a month to dismantle all installations. The Delhi Development Authority, to whom the land belongs, has given no clear deadline for the handover of the land, according to them.
As I return for a second visit two days later, there seems to be an improvement in the level of dirt strewn about. Trucks from SPML, a Delhi-based infrastructure company that has been engaged by Art of Living for waste disposal, are loading the garbage and ferrying it out. The landscape is now more black than green (most of the carpets have been rolled away) and there are fewer sofas in sight.
The roof of the dinner shed has been uninstalled, though the structure remains. The dismantling of the stage, too, appears to have seen some progress. Where there were human footprints in the mud, there are now tyre-tracks from the various vehicles that have been moving several heavy goods out of the floodplain.
As Jha says, the human imprint on the floodplain is now unmistakable. "Delhi gets 20 per cent of its drinking water from this area. If we are not careful, we will have another Chennai-like situation on our hands."
For now, the 7-acre podium seems to have taken centre-stage.
Image: A participant walks back after performing a dance during the World Culture Festival on the banks of Yamuna River in New Delhi in this picture taken on March 12. Photograph: Adnan Abidi/Reuters
