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Love at First Sight: Cubbon Park

Cubbon Park in Bangalore is over 100 years old. It was established in 1870 by Sir John Meade, the then acting commissioner of Mysore. The vast landscape of the park was conceived by Lieutenant-General Richard Sankey, the then chief engineer of the state. To honour Sir John Meade, the park was initially named ‘Meade’s Park’. But most of us Bangaloreans have only ever known it as Cubbon Park.

Thirty-three years ago, when I came to Bangalore as a young bride, I saw Cubbon Park for the first time. My husband had taken me there to teach me how to drive, and I fell in love with the park instantly. Over the last three decades of my life in Bangalore, Cubbon Park has become an extension of my home—the closest thing I have to a backyard in our urban jungle

Once our kids came along, we visited Cubbon Park on Sunday mornings, teaching them first to cycle and then to roller-skate. Most weekends, we were there with picnic hampers and half a dozen kids. The children climbed trees, played dumb charades, chased the sparrows, and counted the parrots. But soon the kids grew up and Cubbon Park no longer fascinated them.

That’s when I took up long-distance running. With my favourite running group, Runner’s High, and quite often alone, I ran along all of Cubbon Park’s trails. Early in the morning, before the sun was up, I would start my run, and watch the rays slowly peep through the rich foliage. Misty mornings, rainy days, sunny afternoons—every day was a Cubbon Park day for me.

One of my most beautiful memories of the park is from after a run, when our coaches asked us to lie on the grass and stretch. As I lay down and looked up, I experienced a completely new Cubbon Park. Above me was a beautifully embroidered sky of leaves through which a few magical sunrays teased the grass under me. I was mesmerised—I just could not take my eyes away from that most incredible sight. Ever since, whenever I have had a rough week, I have gone and lain down on the grass and watched the spectacular sky above. Lost in the world of Cubbon Park, I always feel the weight of my problems ebbing away.

When my knees protested and I had to stop running, but continued with high-altitude treks, Cubbon Park was still my training ground. For a couple months before tackling the Everest base camp, Kilimanjaro, or any other hard trek, my trekker buddies and I would walk for 3–5 hours nonstop in Cubbon Park to train for the long hours of trekking. The park has been many things for me over the years and is constantly evolving

Cubbon Park was at its most beautiful this past May. When the world stopped in its tracks due to Covid, as did Bangalore city, our favourite Cubbon Park sealed its gates and nobody was allowed in. In May, the park was opened for a couple of hours in the mornings and evenings, just for walkers. Like a swimmer coming up for air, on the first day and in the first slot, I was back there.

Traffic was still banned in Cubbon Park, and when I walked around it one evening just before twilight, it looked magical. All the grass appeared healthy and green. The flowers were in full bloom; there was no trash, smoke, or honking. There were just a few masked walkers—old faithfuls. How peaceful, how tranquil. I loved it. It made me appreciate walking on my own. I wanted to drink in all the beauty without talking or having to keep pace with someone else.

Alas, this peace was short lived. In October, despite huge protests, the government decided to reopen the park to traffic. All of us, die-hard park lovers have long taken a vow not to use our dear Cubbon Park as a thoroughfare, but of course not everyone feels so strongly, and the park suffers as a result. Lalbagh—the other lung space in Bangalore’s central business district—has never allowed traffic through its hallowed grounds; but alas, this is not the case with Cubbon Park. Traffic is allowed to pass through except on Sundays and public holidays, which citizens demanded a few years ago. This year, as traffic was banned for six months, Cubbon Park blossomed like never before.

Why am I so in love with Cubbon Park? On a typical weekday, at 7:30 am, what are the sights to see? Runners huffing and puffing; little kids learning to balance on their cycles; and half a dozen eager roller-skaters being watched by parents or coaches. What else? Yoga classes, dog lovers with their pets in tow, tai chi classes, badminton and frisbee games, laughter club members laughing away, young lovers looking into each other’s eyes on park benches, mothers-to-be all dressed up to take professional photographs of their baby bumps, friends who meet every morning to walk and catch up on gossip, and vendors selling fresh farm vegetables, healthy juices, and fruit; it’s a beautiful representation of the eco-system, with multiple languages and dialects floating through the air.

Now on Sundays, when traffic is banned, there is even more colour and energy in the park, with vendors selling balloons, corn, and snacks; breakfast trucks; and music and dance. The bandstands become impromptu stages for young dancers who put on shows complete with musicians and an audience. Large families and groups of youngsters spend their Sundays in the park, bonding, chatting, and eating together.

So why are the authorities trying to ruin this little piece of heaven by allowing polluting vehicles to go through it? Why can’t they hear the people, the trees, and the grass crying out to leave the park alone?