This story has nothing to do with sports or any kind of competition.

Once, a long time ago, probably on a Saturday morning while skipping a remedial class, not knowing what to do with myself,  I walked into a hazy pool table room (or the now nearly-extinct snooker parlour, as we called it in those days). I was playing hooky.  Those  were the days before Google maps, and so you had to go in and explore places for yourself. All I had to go by in this case was a nondescript sign the size of a common paperback novel.

To my surprise, I found two fellow travellers cut from the same cloth, with similar ideas of being in a place they had no permission to be at, and doing things they had no business doing. The student-life after all, we were reminded time and again, was to be one of sacrosanct duty and deference.

But instead, there we were playing pool together, defying every rule we knew and being free of assignment and requirement. The two other birds of passage I met there remain in my life to this day.  

Looking back now, I know my adventurous spirit was rewarded with what was my first experience of being in a ‘third place’ all on my own. The slightly forbidden nature of my visit (I was to be in a class at school, you’ll remember) added, it seems, to my serendipitous experience.

I haven’t had many more such experiences, to be honest. In a general sense, Indians are bad at making conversation with strangers. It’s not our strong point. And even if you get around to it, you might find the other party unwilling. This might explain the lack of ‘third places’ in India, both as an idea and as a physical space. Oh, clubs, pubs and parks might be a-plenty, but a ‘third place’ is a bit more than that.

Essentially,  a ‘third place’ is a physical location where there is no barrier to entry, where conversation is the main activity and people are free to come and go as they please without any obligations or entanglements with others.  It is separate from your two usual social environments, namely - your home (‘first place’) and your workplace (‘second place'). Ray Oldenburd, an American sociologist, in his book ‘The Great Good Place’ makes the argument that third places are essential for democracy, civil society and to establish feelings of a ‘sense of place’.

Why is this important? Let’s set the context.

Because, the first place (home) is where you live. The second place (the office) might actually be the place you spend most of your waking life. But the third place is an anchor that connects you with the community, fosters enriching interactions and fills you with a feeling of relaxation. A place where you are not judged, a place where nothing is expected of you, and a place where you don’t have to perform any kind of duty or fulfil a preset role. It’s a place where you can be yourself, and encounter familiar faces, make new acquaintances, and have serendipitous experiences. It’s a place that’s healthy for the mind.

So, what?

Aarti Goswami is a senior marketing expert who moved to Bombay with her husband back in 2017. Back then she knew almost nobody in the new city she found herself in. Gradually, her husband’s friends became her inner circle, and while her new job kept her busy through the week, she spent most of her weekends socialising with her new friends. The good run lasted many years. But, after her divorce  last year, she found herself alienated by her inner circle, as tends to happen in the collateral damage that a split can leave behind.  While she feels grateful that she’s in a job she loves, and in a city that has felt  welcoming, she sorely misses the enriching social interactions she’d been used to having. Simple entanglement-free connections that made her feel at home are now rare.

What Aarti misses is the serendipity.  

Like Aarti, there are millions of people who have migrated to metros and cities for their careers and marriages. Imagine how much wholesome interactions and serendipitous connections can enrich their lives.

Swathi K.  has been living and working in Bangalore for 4 years, and she feels fortunate to have found great friends in her colleagues. She tells me that it's what kept her from abject loneliness and the isolation that comes from moving away from everyone she knows to live in a strange city. She shrugs, “Then the inevitable happened. I changed jobs, and suddenly it became quite impossible to meet my friends even once a month. I feel like I am in a new city all over again, with new challenges, and I’m really not sure how long I can take it here. It makes you think about whether a career is worth all this.”

She adds that she’s been thinking about registering on an online dating app to meet new people.

But online dating app algorithms can’t crack serendipity, try as they might.

Swathi, like Aarti and so many others, is missing something that matters. Something that we seem to have less and less space for, but feel empty without it nevertheless.

The 8 characteristics of the Third Place

  • Neutral ground - You’re free to come and go as you please, no obligations, no entanglements
  • Leveller - Your status and rank in society are of no importance. No entry requirements, no proof of membership needed
  • Conversation is the main activity - Playfulness and wit are valued, so also humour
  • Accessibility and accommodation - Third places must be easy to access to those who frequent them
  • The regulars - Has a cadre of regulars who give the place a characteristic vibe, and make the place welcoming to newcomers
  • A low profile - Third places are wholesome, not pretentious
  • Mood is playful - Marked by frivolity, wit and banter
  • A home away from home - They’re home-like. Feelings of safety, belonging and warmth

‍The third places in the city where you live

World over, the art of hanging out seems to be dying. Yes, there are pubs, there are beer gardens, there are cafes and what have you, but it seems that the world has not much time for too many idle pursuits - a product of faster-paced lives and busier careers, no doubt.  Or perhaps because leisure has become a behemoth of an industry which means business all too often, or perhaps it’s just that we’d rather watch Netflix in the creature comforts of the ‘first place’.

Then there are the Indian peculiarities. Our social lives seem to centre around drinking copious amounts of craft beer and eating fried pub food every weekend with the same company we kept last weekend, and the one before that. The act of finding a place that has good food and drink, and then enjoying those pleasures become the main activities. But in the third place, conversation, wit and playfulness should be the main activities. City apartment-dwellers taking strolls within their complexes, socialising with other residents are much closer to the sort of third place Oldenburg talks about.

Parallel lines

Openness and inclusivity are not inherently Indian traits. As a people, historically, we have tended to lean towards assimilation; the process of becoming similar. Though not truly opposite, assimilation rewards conformity with membership, while inclusivity encourages authenticity and diversity. With more and more companies now working towards true inclusivity, it’s worthwhile to note that the idea originates in the third place.

Could it be someday in the distant future, the workplace will begin to resemble the third place in some of its characteristics?

Of course, that may never happen in the truest sense, since work must always need to be done in the workplace, and many of the third place’s characteristics can never be carried over. But openness, inclusivity and wholesomeness can travel.

Finding the third place

Imagine you’re walking down a street on a cool, sunny morning. You don’t exactly know where you are, but it feels familiar all the same. You push open a door and step inside. Here there are acquaintances, there are strangers but their faces look familiar.  The place itself is basic, accessible, nothing too flamboyant, no dress code. Being here doesn’t remind you of work, or a task, it doesn’t make you measure your productivity, and there’s no pressure on you to do anything except let your hair down and be yourself.

Let off some steam. Cool down.

Maybe, by now you’ve imagined something from memory, a place that resonates with you, and that could be your ideal third place.  Or maybe you can't quite find your third place. There is something you can do about that.

Let me propose an alternative idea of the third place, one that could be better suited to our kind of city-life, which is where you might find yourself at this juncture. In this alternative idea, the third place need not be a physical location, but it can have all the other characteristics in spades:

Motorcycle clubs
Sport clubs
Rock climbing groups
Weekend camping groups
Book clubs
Theatre groups
Foreign language classes

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The list is not exhaustive, but there are  plenty of options to be had if you have the slightest intent and know where to look. So very often, these kinds of clubs have regulars who are kind, open hearted people who are genuinely interested in you.  They know something about the qualitative parts of life that can surprise you.

Beyond even this, there’s the idea that I’m most excited about. Start your own third place, pick an idea, invite people. They will come.  Serendipity is in short supply these days.

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