The Hindu Business Line : A 6.7 shake-up

THERE is something aseptic about every visit abroad, especially if one has been out of the country a number of times. If one is going to the West, the visuals are uniformly similar — the glass highrises, the broad pavements on which only busy people adequately suited and booted are seen, speeding cars, clean cabs whether yellow or sedately black, and mostly orderly road traffic except perhaps in parts of France and Italy among lesser known places.

Some cities have a sprinkling of historical buildings and localities which embellish the drab modern structures, imparting selective personalities to different places. Thus, cities such as London, Paris, Rome, Madrid, Antwerp, Vienna, San Francisco and Boston, to name only a handful — most of which escaped the soulless destruction of the Second World War — have a character of their own which makes each of them stand out from the crowd.

Among other places, who can stand in the vast expanse of the Place de la Concorde in Paris and not gaze at the cobbled square and take one's mind back more than 200 years ago to the motley crowd baying for the blood of French royalty, as the executioner raised a refined head at a time after the Guillotine had done its quick, painless job of decapitation?

The Far East (excluding Australasia) presents a totally different picture although it must be said that the modern architectural influence has imposed a uniformity on cities such as Bangkok, Singapore, Hong Kong, Kuala Lumpur and Taipei, which is quite offputting for the connoisseur of matters historical.

And yet, even here one could have experiences marking out individual cities which would create indelible impressions lasting perhaps a lifetime.

This correspondent recently had the occasion to visit Taipei where he was put up on the 27th floor of a hotel, his room commanding a majestic view of the city looking towards the hills skirting the domestic airport and of course the world's tallest building (as of now) boasting around 110 storeys.

There is nothing so very special about all this except perhaps for the view of the 110 storeys standing in regal splendour and isolation in the distance, presenting a magnificent spectacle with the sun glinting off its side, as if setting one side of the steel-and-glass Oriental sentinel on fire.

But the thing to remember was the violent shaking of the room one night when a tremor measuring 6.7 on the Richter scale hit Taipei. Three things raced through the mind: was a bigger quake in the offing; was Taipei out on the streets; and what was one supposed to do in the circumstances.

Unsteadily, one got out of bed and looked out at the 110 storeys in the distance. Not a light was on except for the beacons on the top and the sides of the building. Down below traffic on the roads was skimpy with no sign of any urgency whatever. The hotel itself, all 34 floors of it, was quiet except for the sound of a door closing somewhere.

Next morning I asked my Japanese friend Keizo from Osaka whether he too had felt the quake. He said with nonchalance: "Yes, that was a big one. Lucky that there has been no damage or casualties. We have these once every six months".

Ranabir Ray Choudhury

More Stories on : Travel & Places | Natural Calamities | View Point

Article E-Mail :: Comment :: Syndication :: Printer Friendly Page

Stories in this Section
Perception deficiency

Meal is now defined

A nail for falsehood

The unnecessary writs

Can't blame the manufacturer if men used women's shirts

Sticklish issues

A 6.7 shake-up

Scrutinise wisely, not just widely

Secular because we're Indian, not because we're Hindu