“Oh no, rain again”: this is was most of Chennai was thinking this day, last year. Despite being harbingers of all things positive, rains make Chennai nervous now, after the bitter experiences of the 2015 floods. So, when rain and winds with speeds of over 120 kmph lashed the city on December 12, 2016, most people stayed indoors and kept a sharp eye out for rising water levels.
No one was prepared for the sight that awaited the city the next morning: trees with shattered branches. Gigantic uprooted trunks strewn across roads, their roots still fragrant with fresh soil. Cyclone Vardah was unforgettable — it damaged lives, property, trees, disrupted public transportation and brought Chennai to a standstill. Ironically, the name means red rose in Urdu.
It took several days for the city to get back to normalcy — dead trees lined the roads for weeks. Has Chennai learned from the disaster? Has the city become more environmentally conscious in order to save what’s left of its green cover? No, according to writer and social activist Nityanand Jayaraman. “People are the same. Ever passing disaster seems to define a new normal.”
“The disasters to come will be much worse,” he warns. Then sadly adds, “We have already lost the game.” He points out a case at hand: Cyclone Ockhi. “Look at what’s happening at Kanyakumari. So many fishermen are still at sea.”
Nizhal, a city-based NGO that was at the forefront of tree restoration work in the aftermath of Vardah, has an equally dismal outlook. Says Shobha Menon, the founder, “A month after the cyclone, we participated in several tree-related activities with the city Corporation. We held eight workshops for Corporation maintenance employees. About 1,000 of them participated. We focussed on sensitive management of green cover, preventing tree abuse, and tree health concerns.” Menon adds that several of the participants came forward to tell her how much they appreciated the knowledge gained through the workshops.
Vardah brought trees to the centre-stage. The public came up in full support following the cyclone. “So many people reached out to us to save trees in their localities,” she says. But despite it all, there isn’t any tangible change to speak of, according to her. “After all the hype and noise in the months following the cyclone, not much action has been taken at the ground level,” she says. She wonders if Chennai’s dream for a lush green cover will remain a dream.
Fortunately, there’s still hope — the buzz around environmental consciousness that the cyclone triggered has not died down entirely. Arun Krishnamurthy, the founder of Environmentalist Foundation of India (EFI), says that all it takes is the right platform for such ideas to thrive.
“Several civic groups have sprouted across the city. We need sustained and coordinated effort among them,” he explains. “We have the soft clay in hand. We now need to mould it into a statue.”
The eco-conscious continue doing what they did. EFI, for instance, planted trees by lakes such as Arasankazhani and Karasangal over the year.
Vardah did teach the city some valuable lessons. Besides raising awareness about Chennai’s green cover, it also generated interest in indigenous species. Suddenly, everyone started to discuss poovarasu and punga maram , punnai and poo maruthu — people learnt how some of local trees weathered the catastrophe much better. People saw first-hand how the absence of just one tree on their street drastically affected landscape and micro-climate.
It’s one year exactly since Vardah. Perhaps it’s time to talk trees again.
