In the week gone by, the city of Bengaluru was witness to a gory accident. A Metro pillar fell on a family of four, sparing a father and daughter, but killing the mother and her toddler son. The mother was all of 28 and the boy was just a little over two. Their lives were taken away by an accident that had no right to happen in the first place. But then, accidents happen, don’t they?
When accidents of this kind happen, it jolts one. The “It could have been me” factor bites first. And when that wanes, in steps the thought that these kinds of things must not happen to anyone. And then kicks in the blame game. And finally, the blame gets pinned, compensations get paid, and life moves on. Till the next one happens.
And that is the purpose of this rather self-righteous piece with stupidly naive questions as well. The key question then. Why must accidents such as these happen at all? Are they avoidable? Does a city like Bengaluru (which figures in the ratings of the top cities of the world today on many parameters of work, skill and contribution) deserve such an accident? In fact, must it happen in any part of the world at all, first, second or third? And do cities of similar stature across the world have better precautionary measures to avoid loss of life on construction sites? And if so, why are our big cities (Bengaluru included) lagging in this space? Why is a third-world mentality in safety standards at public construction sites ruling the roost?
Yet another issue. We seem to speak with forked tongues on the subject. When we speak of technology, the ability to deliver fast work and harness the latest skills and literally every bleeding-edge item on the menu of a city, we speak eloquently. When it comes to ensuring the safety of the people, we recede into silence. We are quick to give it an “accident” tag. We are quick to take refuge in the statement that “accidents happen”. We are quick to mourn, quick to compensate and quick to forget.
Could these deaths have been avoided? I do believe we could have tried as a city. Why must heavy-duty construction work happen in the city (any city really) even as traffic flow is allowed under and behind the pylons at work sites? Why must traffic flow not be stopped altogether on these roads that have such potentially dangerous work in progress? Why must traffic flow not be diverted? Why must citizens not be made to face more hardships and more deviations of route as the city builds itself for the future? If that can’t be done, why not focus on night work and shut the roads fully?
Should projects such as these not try to hasten their progress to meet unrealistic deadlines at the cost of citizens’ lives?
Every public project seems to have a pace of work that is governed by various sets of factors. The first is the factor of money flow to the project. Many projects flounder and get delayed as governments take time to pay contractors. Equally, many projects get fast-tracked when money suddenly flows into the project. And when this happens, shouldn’t protecting lives be on top priority rather than racing to meet a deadline of a project that has been delayed for long anyway?
My heart goes out to Tejaswini and her toddler Vihan. If we don’t ask the right questions and demand the right solutions as citizens, lives will continue to be lost wantonly. Accidents happen. Even this one has happened. It’s in the past already. Even this shall pass. We will all forget and move on. Till the next one happens. Why allow for this?
Big cities such as Bengaluru are rapidly losing their soul. The priorities we chase are priorities that are all about brick, mortar, money, growth and everything else that comes under the crass umbrella of the “development” word. There is a very quick justification when it comes to widening roads that must not be widened at the cost of the trees at the side: “We are doing it for the sake of developing the seamless commuting ability of citizens.”
The point to remember is that the moment we widen the roads, more cars and motorised vehicles of every kind will find their way onto it. There is no end to the road-widening philosophy. Bengaluru today has a population of 104 lakh vehicles that cater to the whims and fancies of 130 lakh people.
This number just goes to say that every adult above the age of 18 has one set of wheels to their name. When shall this stop? Not too soon. Not until we come to a point where a bigger mandate or act of God (force majeure) dictates a stop to this mindset of owning the commute as opposed to outsourcing it to a multimodal public transport system.
The city has many fathers. Firstly there is the citizen. Then there is the municipal councillor, the local MLA, and the MP overseeing the constituency. And then there are multiple stakeholders who work for it and its needs. The Metro railway authority (BMRCL in the case of Bengaluru), the local railway network, the local bus network, the local electricity distribution partner, the body that manages the drainage and water supply of the city, and many more really. Every body has an agenda of its own. Every individual body does exactly what it wants, without any coordination. Every body establishes for itself a gold standard of work that it thinks it is delivering to.
In sum, “development” really has one enemy. And that is nature. Most city development work is hampered by the fact that we cannot build that steel flyover without cutting trees, and that we cannot put together wider roads without chopping those errant trees in the way. The tree is enemy number one. Who asked them to grow where they are growing?
The city and its many fathers forget to realise the fact that we are encroaching on the territory of the trees and that it’s not the other way around. Till we get this message right, lopsided priorities will take over, pushing aside what is just and right. And when that happens, there will be another tragedy…and another…and another…
Are we simply going to mourn, compensate and forget, or are we going to do something about it all?
Harish Bijoor
Brand Guru and Founder, Harish Bijoor Consults Inc