One can dream of an India where travelling from Mumbai to Bengaluru doesn’t leave you feeling as though you’ve endured a boxing match with a professional pugilist. But such fantasies remain just that, don’t they? For in actual India, traversing the country’s highways resembles more of a survival challenge—one that strains your composure, your vehicle’s shock absorbers, and occasionally, your confidence in contemporary construction. The bridges may collapse under your tires, the six-lane road may suddenly become single-lane with traffic coming from opposite sides, or you may vanish along with your two-wheeler into a crater-sized pot hole that dots the service roads; anything is possible.
In the preceding quarter, we’ve observed a series of devastating structural disasters that would mortify any construction professional. A decades-old span in Vadodara within Gujarat gave way on July 9, sending multiple vehicles plummeting into the Mahisagar waters, claiming 20 lives. The incident echoed the haunting memory of October 30, 2022, when a suspended walkway over Morbi’s Machhu river disintegrated, resulting in 135 fatalities in that identical state. A span crumbled in Saharsa, Bihar, during the passage of an overburdened farm vehicle. The event marked the seventh structural failure in Bihar since May 2024. A bridge still under development spanning the Ganga in Patna succumbed to gravity in September. Bridges are falling down all over the country, in Bihar, in Gujarat, in Maharashtra, in West Bengal, in Kerala.
These instances aren’t anomalies; they are symptomatic of a deeper malaise—the pathetic condition of our national highways. All these shoddy monuments are in fact a testament to corruption and zero accountability.
It is funny that in a country that is dependent on monsoon for its survival, rain has to bear the blame. A mere drizzle seems to morph our roads into a slush pit. Potholes as deep as craters and roads that resemble war zones after the first rains are a norm, not exceptions. Yet, the public relations machinery of the government wants us to believe that highways are being built at a record pace. They churn out rosy statistics of kilometres being added to the national grid daily, leaving one to wonder—at what cost?
In a brilliant stroke of manipulation, the methodology by which the government counts the kilometre length of roads has been altered. A little tweak here, a mild adjustment there—and lo! Numbers that paint a picture of efficiency and progress. But drive along these proclaimed stretches, and you’ll find yourself oscillating between laughter and despair.
According to a recent report by the Ministry of Road Transport and Highways, there were over 1,20,000 accidents on national highways in 2024, resulting in around 45,000 fatalities. And the last quarter alone has seen thousands of accidents directly attributed to flawed construction and poor maintenance. Has anyone actually seen a fully completed, well-maintained stretch of national highway in the last 25 years? Or are we perpetually travelling on roads under construction, merely moving from one unfinished section to another?
Taxes are siphoned off our pockets by the fistful. With such revenue streams, one would expect pristine roads. However, the reality is a grim joke. The roads remain horrendous, riddled with defects, raising the simple question: Don’t we deserve better? Let’s break down what we pay: hefty registration fee, steep sales taxes on vehicles, relentless cess on fuel, and the ever-increasing toll charges. Isn’t that enough to create a world-class infrastructure? But sadly, the reality slaps us in the face. We are left with roads that are nothing short of treacherous, questioning where all our hard-earned money is being funnelled.
We, the public, should no longer remain passive recipients of this propaganda. To critique the government is not an anti-national act; in fact, it is the highest form of patriotism in a democracy. Until we, as a public, react and demand accountability, nothing will change. We have the right to question these corrupt practices and to demand nothing short of the best. Because, after all, it’s about time our roads were as smooth as the political promises we keep hearing.
Recently, there was a Gandhian method of protest against the daylight robbery of toll by a young man in Kerala. One Mr Shento V Anto staged a peaceful demonstration at a toll station in Panniyankara, Palakkad, by declining to pay the toll due to the subpar condition of the roads. He remained at the toll booth for 9.5 hours, obstructing traffic, until the barrier was eventually lifted without him making the payment and also ensuring a Facebook lLive that kept him safe from being manhandled by interested parties. Ultimately, the toll collector conceded and permitted him to traverse the pothole-ridden national highway without paying the toll.
So, the next time you feel the jolt of a pothole or wait in a stagnant queue at a toll booth, remember that we deserve better. We need to demand better. Because the first act of patriotism in a vibrant democracy is to question the government. Criticising the faulty practices and demanding accountability isn’t just our right; it’s our duty. Only then can we hope to transform our highways from perilous paths to roads worth travelling. Our path to a developed country status will have to be won, protest by protest, peacefully.
