The first encounter was quite vivid. We were heading deeper into a forest – one that we never knew actually existed within our very own city. This was part of our school picnic to Chhota Kashmir. Until then, most in my batch hadn’t visited Kashmir, yours truly included, so it was only natural to imagine that this was Mumbai’s slice of the real deal. Without the snow, of course. But we were sold on everything else in that tiny green space. It was a delightful afternoon spent playing around gigantic trees that seemed to touch the sky, and a clean lake where many of us had our first ever boating experiences. Birds chirped all around us, and we were told by our class teachers that this was Mumbai’s ‘green lungs’. It was important that we protect it for our city’s good, they reiterated. As ten-year-olds, we soaked in every word.

Years later, as a collegian we passed by the same area, only to be appalled at the gross neglect that was in full view. In less than a decade, the mindless degeneration of the space as well as inexplicable encroachments and garbage piles marred the earlier pristine imagery that we had of lush Aarey Colony.