Blogs

The other day, cycling home from work, a two-wheeler came up behind me on the left and honked several times. She then overtook me on the left and as she did, I felt compelled to ask why she had honked. (Since the traffic was heavy and it was not a wide road, we were all crawling along.) Her response was that she was warning me! Of what I still don’t know.

How big is your city? Growing up in Chennai, my knowledge and therefore idea of the city extended possibly between school, home, and a few other places I frequented. While this has expanded, I don’t think I realised how big it actually was. In October 2022, the media reported that the Tamil Nadu government had cleared a 5-fold expansion of the city - from 1189 km2 to 5904 km2. I was a bit shocked that my city was already 1189 km2 big and now had gotten even larger. 

Let’s take a moment to revisit our past, understand our present and look into our future. During my school days, until about 5th standard, my parents used to walk me to school. Gradually, my parents gained confidence in my traffic navigation abilities and let me cycle to school with a few friends from my neighbourhood. My normal routine after school involved playing in the local streets with my friends till dusk and getting back home when the street lights went on.

On Twitter I came across someone lamenting a recently announced plan to build more flyovers in some Indian city (it matters not which city as this is a common phenomenon across the country). The tweet pointed out that increasing road infrastructure for private vehicles only encourages more private vehicles and it's a zero sum game.

Let us start by answering a straightforward question: do we drive on the left or the right of the road? The answer is, in India we do ‘both’. This stinging satire is enough to summon our  memories of everyday terrifying experiences on roads.

80ஸ் கிட்ஸ்களின் புல்லட்டாக இருந்த சைக்கிள்களை ரிப்பேர் செய்யும் சைக்கிள் ரிப்பேர்காரர்களின் கதையைதான் இந்த கட்டுரையில் பார்க்க இருக்கிறோம். ஆமாம், நம்மில் பலருக்கு தெரியாத, சிலருக்கு படித்ததும் பால்ய நினைவுகளை முன்னிறுத்தப்போகும் கட்டுரைதான் இது. 1960 களில் பல இளைஞர்களின் புஷ்பக வாகனமாக சைக்கிள் இருந்திருக்கிறது என்றால் நம்பமுடிகிறதா?

Today the cyclist is infra-dig unless one is dressed in lycra and riding a high-end cycle that costs more than a car and the reason for cycling is recreation or sport. The cycle as a mode of commute, then, is for the poor, for those who have no other option and such cyclists are not considered as having a right to the road. Yet this humble vehicle – a simple construct of two wheels, a chain, some cranks, pedals, and metal rods - was once considered to be the pinnacle of transportation.

வண்ணாரப்பேட்டை டெக்ஸ்டைல் பார்க்குக்குள் நுழையும் பகுதி - பரபரப்பான காலை, சாலையின் இருபுறமும் மின்னல் வேகத்தில் கடந்து செல்லும் வாகனங்கள், எதையோ தொலைத்துவிட்டு திரிவதை போல உம்மென்று ஹெட்செட்டில் மூழ்கியிருக்கும் மனிதர்கள் - இவற்றுக்கிடையே ஒரு தடவைக்கு வெறும் 30 நொடிகளை மட்டுமே வாய்ப்பாக அளித்திருக்கும் சிக்னல் விளக்கை பார்த்த படி சாலையை தன் கைகளாலேயே தவழ்ந்து கடக்கவேண்டும் என்கிற வரத்தோடு சாலையை கடக்க தயார் நிலையில் இருக்கும் ஒரு தவழும் மாற்றுத்திறனாளியை இன்று சந்தித்தேன்.

Children are perhaps among the most overlooked Vulnerable Road Users (VRUs) in our country. This statement is justified by the scary statistics of India witnessing 11,168 child fatalities on roads in 2019, an increase of 12% from the previous year.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that public transit in Chennai is fragmented, poor in service quality, and dying a slow death in the last two decades. Certainly the patronage numbers would support this with modal share dropping over the last few decades, concomitant with an increase in the modal share of private vehicles.