BRT

The latest sensation of public transit in Delhi is the BRT corridor. It has been constructed in spite of all kinds of resistance from all possible sources. The trial run is currently on which lets the very confused Government decide the necessary alterations. The media publicises the project as a major failure.. its there on the front page everyday. But take it from me, a Transport Planner at your service. I admit there are shortcomings, none of which can be ignored. Still, now that immense amount of money has been poured in it, I feel we should carry on with it, modifying it marginally if required. It is absurd to think that by making life difficult for the motorised modes, you can induce people to shift to public transport which is neither comfortable nor reliable. Simple painting of zebra crossings does not make a busy road safe for pedestrians, especially when the traffic is compressed to lesser number of lanes. The signals do not function properly. The road geometry, the quality of the work are not up to the mark. How does one reach the bus stop in the middle of the road? What happens if a bus breaks down? Are cycle tracks justified? The questions are many, the answers missing.

Leaving these grey areas, let us try to appreciate the brighter side of this venture. So long, before the coming of these dedicated corridors, the buses had been wrecking havoc just by being present in the traffic flow. They would stop anywhere, violate traffic rules, what not. Now it seems as if the buses have been taken off the roads and driving is so much more comfortable. Congestion is there, but it is nothing more than what was there already. The bus ride has also improved, since you have to stop only at the bus stops. It feels absolutely royal to zoom past the rest of the traffic during peak hours.

Moreover, it is wrong to judge a system on the basis of a single stretch, which is just a part of a massive network. What was the Delhi Metro when it was introduced? 6 stations, no use! Massive investments, tremendous operation costs, meagre ridership. It was only when DMRC ignored the expert opinions and continued with their venture, that the system became a grand success. Now people look forward to the upcoming corridors and hope to be better connected. The onus is now on the people to support the BRT..let it be what it was conceived to be. One may have loads of queries, but why not wait and watch? Why not ask the experts?

Charm

I like travelling by bus. You may have heard all sorts of negative things about availing public transport in Delhi. All those facts are true - I'll endorse them wholeheartedly. But nobody publicizes the charm of travelling with the masses. One can see so many types of people... each one is unique.

With the modern revolution in mobile phones and advent of ipods, a headset is perhaps the most common thing seen plugged in the ears of urban youngsters. Mark the adjective. Urban. That encompasses young, cool, smart, tech savvy, rich... what not. But learn to expect the unexpected in a bus. There was a man, who is of short height by all means, drastically thin build, and to top it all, a beard which has gone beyond the stage of a stubble purely due to lack of maintenance. He wears a dirty kurta over a dhoti , and along his left side hangs a bag of flaming red with dramatic frills. He is perhaps a priest, one would think. Observe carefully and you would notice a thin wire emerging almost out of nowhere and bifurcating into both his ears. Here comes a modern man for you!!!

The other day, my bus was crowded well beyond expected limits due to some unknown rush. I handed my bags (I seem to be carrying more than one on the wrong days, that too extraordinarily heavy) to the lady seated on the aisle side of a seat, when I noticed her carefully. Seven punctures on each of her ear lobes. Clad in an ordinary saree, she seemed to me to be a rural lady so misfit in the urban setting of Delhi. Suddenly a phone rings, and she withdraws a swank Nokia N-72 from the folds of her saree and starts off in crystal clear English. Gives you a jolt, for sure!! I would have believed her had she been returning from a fancy dress competition.

What a crowded bus does to you is something you dont realize often. Allow me to give a brief description of the bus the way it generally is... it is a 2/2 configuration, with a large portion of one half dedicated for the seating of women. Needless to say, I am mostly seated on that half of the bus, if I am seated at all, that is. One day I happened to be on the other side.. and as I looked out, I realized I recognized only half of the route I cover everyday!! What I was looking at seemed so unfamiliar and I could hardly make out where I was passing through.

Positive mind

The world is a stage set for me, this is my belief. As I step out of the pedestrian subway in the morning after deboarding the bus, I believe that the sun falls on me like a spotlight... brightens up my face, heralding a good beginning to the day ahead. [The spotlight follows me till I reach my destination, scorching my back in summer and warming up my sweaters in winter]. My spirits rise as I scamper up the steps (two at a time) to my office on the third floor, mostly because the lift is often defunct.. I enjoy climbing over the risers which are of 'slightly lesser than standard' dimensions and smile at the guard on duty. On the way back I am delighted to sit at the window of a bus which is so shattered that it doesnt have rods even. No rods and no glass. As my hair bounces in the wind, I wonder how ideal would I have been for someone on the lookout for a model for a shampoo commercial.... there is a brighter side to everything; and it is important that you realize it.

I loved reading books at one time. Dont let the past tense surprise you. During the valuable years, my degrees and my job demanded so much of me that I had to put aside my favourite companion. Whatever time I would get needed to be devoted to things such as going out with friends and family, sleep, etc. The first year of my marriage did me in further, but somewhere down the line, I felt my soul drying..sounds melodramatic, but I felt there is something I need... beyond balancing a career and home. There are many in this world who run families and work at the same time, and I dont know whether they can do all that they want to. I dont think my mother has any regrets such as that I was feeling. I have to wrench some time out, I decided. The people around me seemed so uninterested in books that it was difficult for me to get hold of one. Their only concern is money and all the material comfort one could afford. That is when I discovered e-books... books that could be downloaded and absorbed at will. I had a lot of catching up to do.. books I had only heard about and never could manage to read. I chose to make good use of the time I spent every day in travelling... I download a book of my choice, print few pages at a time, and read it in the bus. It takes immense time to finish a book because of mandatory parameters that are not fulfilled all the time: a seat under the lights is just an example. I devised a system to counter the jerks.. I hold the book (or the papers) in my left hand and grip the wrist with my right hand...release the grip only to turn pages. For once I was happy that modern mobile phones come with FM radio, which, if plugged in, cuts you off from the chaos in the bus. I actually named myself Vidyasagar... he was a great man who studied under the street lamps and I do exactly the same, only the source of light and matter are different. But I read in motion, with lots of disturbances. My credit for my eagerness to read should not be undermined, isnt it?

Along with my reading habit, something that was going down the drain was my handwriting, something I was so proud of. The last time I held a pen to write a paragraph was an incident that had not happened for years. I took to blogging so that I could at least compile thoughts of my complex mind before I lost the enthusiasm to. There are certain people whom I wish to speak to, discuss my likes and dislikes, share my ideas and understand their points of view. But circumstances often pose as barriers - not always can you catch somebody to pour your heart out. I floated the link on a public forum expecting more people to read my mind and comment, so that the interaction can go on. I atleast hope to reach out to the minds I have been looking forward to link up with.

An enjoyable official trip

Perhaps the most amazing trip I ever had. My meeting was scheduled at five in the evening and there I was, all alone, at Agra Cantt Railway Station as early as 8:15 a.m. I had to take only one quick decision - what to do! In India, especially in an orthodox minded state like Uttar Pradesh, nothing is normal for being done by a solitary girl, who if not pretty, is reasonably attractive, mainly due to her youth. I could not possibly sit in the retiring room for the next few hours.. the suggestion from my very caring husband was that I check in with some hotel and take rest. Come on, rest for nine long hours was not what I needed. Yeah, agreed that I had got up as early as 4:30 in the morning to catch the 6:15 train, but do you need nine hours to make up for the lack of sleep? So, I decided that the only productive use of my time would be to roam around the city, so famous for historical monuments. I enquired at the tourism help desk and much to my dismay, was informed that Taj Mahal, the prime attraction of Agra was closed for visitors since it was a Friday. "What could I do if my meeting is scheduled on a Friday?", I asked myself. I didnt schedule it and neither was I aware of this weekly off. But, I was told, a glimpse of the member of new seven wonders of the world could be caught from the backside, across the remains of a once voluminous River Yamuna; which was no less than seeing the monument from the front. And all the other monuments were there, which could be visited before sunset. Hey, I had no plans to fool around alone in an unknown city till sunset! So, without wasting any further time, I walked out of the railway station, hired a car, explained my situation to the driver and plunged into the city straightaway. Oh, I hired a camera, obviously. I could not collect one due to the shortage of time, but you can procure one on hire in tourist places. My driver was a soft spoken man who took me to the farthest point, Sikandra, the tomb of Akbar. I overwhelmed him by asking him to come along with me. I appointed him as my photographer and heneceforth, all I did was pose! We visited the major monuments because time in hand was short, had a sumptuous lunch and found a hotel for myself to catch a solid hour of sleep. I sent the driver to return the camera while I prepared for the meeting by dint of which I was present in Agra. The rest of the story is short; my presentation was a grand success and I wrapped up the meeting in record time as I had to catch the seven o' clock train.

This would indeed be a trip to remember!!!

Member of Traffic Assembly?

An architect that I originally am, it was a part of my daily routine to yell unnecessarily at a mason, hard at work. It would be highly possible that the poor man may be more enriched than myself in terms of experience, or at least, may not be wrong at all – I did whatever I did just to keep him on his toes and also to assert my authority to some extent. Similar was my experience when I went on a round of supervising the traffic surveys during a project in Orissa in the hot sun, although it was early January.

It was a long and uncertain process of identification of survey locations, planning and scheduling just for the sake of it because in the back of your mind you are more than convinced that your schedule is bound to go haywire for some reason or the other, and then on top of it, the disbursement of funds which happens through a number of channels in restricted installments in spite of your most justified requirements.

I was lucky to discover a very enterprising tea stall owner who turned out to be a well connected person who just arranged for enumerators out of the blue, that too with a minimum education level of 9th Standard, in as many numbers as I could demand. I wanted batches of people in shifts in locations separated by distances ranging from 10 –70 km, and bingo, there they were. He turned out to be a Genie out of Alladin’s magic lamp for me. On the day we actually started the traffic surveys, I reached the site early with survey formats, clip boards, etc…and one should have seen the reception I was given! The moment I stepped out of the car, a group of people separated and made way for me as if I was the local councillor on a pre-election visit. I also played up to my suddenly imposed new role quite well, beginning with refusing to sit when all of them were standing, in an attempt to pull the emotional string. However, I made good use of the chair by dumping whatever material I was carrying. A list of names of the assembled people were handed to me, and I, quite unsure of what exactly to do with it, took a sort of attendance in an effort to familiarize myself with the faces. It was just impossible, I knew, but still. Then I handed out few survey formats in the crowd and held up one to explain it in detail. I could obviously not speak the local language, but I could understand it and it was enough to impress the crowd. After my delivery in the national language, somebody from the crowd along with the very smart tea stall shopkeeper stepped out of the crowd and translated my speech in Oriya.

Imagine the vote-requesting politician who tries to sell his future plans, which in reality, he would forget after winning the elections. His plans are borrowed from some unknown source and do not meet the needs of the municipality or any locality, because the politician is actually unaware of them. Moreover, he himself does not speak the local dialect since he is not one of the crowd, but a foreigner attempting to hoodwink the people. He gets away with his false promises because the language does not appeal to his audience and then it is left to the translator to goof up something and cover up the fallacies as far as possible. Now imagine my situation. I was trying to explain something completely off beat to my group of enumerators, that too in a language which neither I nor the people speak too well. I did invite questions from the audience, knowing very well that none was likely to come.

Quite unsure of the achievement of my self employed enumerator cum translators, I pulled two people out of the crowd randomly, identified locations for them to be seated, allotted directions of traffic movement to each one, and gave a beaming smile at the rest of the lot. It was then a muffled unrest started among them, including the separated two. Lots of questions started pouring in, this time in Hindi, mostly regarding duty hours and breaks for refreshments, and of course, payment. So back I went to my politician role. I answered all questions satisfactorily, putting special effort to include few phrases from my mother tongue which are reasonably similar to their Oriya version. That was something I should have avoided, because it resulted in a “rebombardment” of the same questions in the local language. Luckily my translators came to my rescue. Then I again did the process of deploying the selected two and explaining their task to them.

As I was about to move, suddenly a man came and joined the crowd. He was introduced to me by one of the group as a fellow-enumerator. Although dismayed for having to repeat the entire process, I granted him a special one to one explanation of the format and without waiting for his questions, hurriedly packed the remaining lot in the car to transport them to another location. I was careful to leave behind a man on so-called supervising duty, which in technical terms, simply means reserve duty.

Having gone through the deployment process, I embarked on a super human task of supervision over all the locations. I got myself driven back slightly ahead of the initial location and having comfortably parked the car in the shade of a tree, performed the act of volume count for half an hour. I went back to my enumerators, compared my count with theirs, and although they were quite similar, I gave them a big and completely unnecessary verbal thrashing, glorifying the ignorable difference that an anomaly of two cycles can make. It reminded me of my other professional version, from where our story took off.