Chandigarh, controlled by the federal rather than any state government, is the only fully planned city in India. Built in the 1960s, this city was designed to act as a northern capital after Lahore fell into Pakistani territory. The new construction and government jurisdiction make this a relatively wealthy, forward-looking city. Driving is more controlled, plastic bags are banned, and construction is highly regulated.
Like New York, Chandigarh is on a grid system, and all "sectors" are cut into sections A, B, C, and D. Certain sectors are strictly residential, though they almost all have a small market for basic conveniences, and other sectors are purely commercial. However, the grid layout is just about the only visible commonality between Chandigarh and the Big Apple.
Rather, from my 24 hours in this Chandigarh, it seems to be what one would create by combining the retirement communities of Florida with the southern Chinese capital, Nanjing. Despite the natural beauty that attracts many to Florida in the first place, I have always felt a sense of irony at how planned everything feels. Yes, there's nature, but every garden is heavily landscaped and every blade of grass is perfectly trimmed. Trees are often planted in perfect rows. While many roads of the world follow the natural curvature of the earth, these Floridian communities are mostly flat, so boulevards cut through the earth in perfect parallel lines. Similarly, Chandigarh has endless rows of perfectly-planted mango trees, wide streets, and many public parks that provide beauty through human intervention.
In Nanjing, residents enjoyed relatively cleaner conditions than Tier 1 cities in China. With rich political and cultural history and with many reputable universities in the area, Nanjing enjoyed more wealth and education than many Chinese cities. The climate and vegetation, too, feel incredibly similar. (So similar that I felt compelled to look up their latitudes: Nanjing lies at 32.06 degrees and Chandigarh sits at 30.73 degrees). Many moments in the car felt like deja vu as I drove in honking, swerving traffic (less aggressive than in Beijing or New Delhi, but enough to spook a foreigner who hasn't been to either locale).
During my visit to Chandigarh's rock garden, I found myself in one selfie with Indian girls and one posed photo with the two little children of a curious father. On top that, I was a feature conversationalist with that same curious father as his wife filmed us chatting from behind, like a bad PBS special. And then there were several other solicitations I turned down. So, once again, I find myself to be the center of wandering eyes and undue attention. In China I was the "laowai" and I've taken up the position of the "gora" in India. Always "The Foreigner".
