Over the top

By Richa Neupane

A Cindrella story of one road’s journey from dust to pitch.

The Bagmati River Photo: Richa Neupane

I go to work through a route that winds along the foul-smelling Bagmati River, synonymous with Kathmandu’s trash bin. The road was constructed by the locals a few years back on a low budget. It is about ten meters wide dotted with potholes and stray cows. And its road-sides are dusty and filled with squatters. Yet, this road despite the foul smell and all that is more bearable than the sluggishness of the main route infested with perpetual traffic jams. Besides, even on the main route, one is bound to get stuck on top of the Bagmati bridge for at least ten minutes.

This alternate road seems to save everyone’s day. Even that of the Prime Minister!

The other day, for the third time this month, instead of bothering to clear up the little congested main road so that his ride can be smooth, the PM followed our route on the way to his Party’s office. A very good idea and a thoughtful one at that! Travelers back at the main road could at least continue their pace without attending to the signals of the security parading around him.

Maintenance in full swing, while the passers-by look on. Photo: Richa Neupane

What is appallingly apparent though is that now that the PM has begun to use this road, lo and behold, it is being renovated! Its narrow stretches are being widened. The dusty road-side is being cleaned. The wandering cows are being chased away. And the potholes are being covered. Perhaps the municipal people do not want these potholes to jolt the glasses off the PM’s nose while he peruses the budget proposal. Well, while they are at it, they might as well get rid of the squatters and clean up the river.

This is how ‘development’ occurs in my country. If I want a road, I have to wait for a VIP to want it first. If I want a constant flow of running water or 24 hours of electricity, I have to live where the dignitaries do. The only problem, I, like many, cannot afford to live near them. And what about the rural villages where the (nominal) state aid vanishes before it reaches them? They better start praying that (at the least) the next member of the Parliament is from their own.

- By The Gadhiwalla

Historically-persecuted car drivers

A sensible driver’s response to the sensible cyclist

A ten-point agreement between a four wheeler and a no-engine two wheeler

Preamble: Might makes right

One: Despite any pretension to the contrary, on the road we are equals.

One: By convention we may be equal, but pretensions show that this is not the case, so I advise you learn to be humble.

Two: When in doubt, remember: yes, I am riding my cycle because I choose to do so.

Two: While some cyclists may be environmental idealists, I must point out that the majority just can’t afford more expensive means of transport. Either way, your higher moral ground does nothing for you on traffic’s terrain.

Three: I will leave as much space in the roadway as possible, but I will not get off of my cycle to let you pass.

Three: And I will respect your space, but not when you take more than is needed.

Four: Horns are no substitute for a) prudence, b) civility or c) brakes.

Four: But horns must be respected. Believe it or not, they are often not substitutes for prudence, civility nor brakes, rather safeguards against myopia, recalcitrance and curlicued riding.

Five: Keep in mind the fact that, in most heavy-traffic situations, I’m actually faster than you. Allowing me to go first is thus just good flow management – and I’ll reciprocate when the roles are reversed.

Five: If you wish to be treated as an equal, do not ask for exceptions. In most heavy-traffic situations, you are to wait in line the same way us larger vehicles do. And when the light turns red, you stop. Do not get off your bike to walk across the street.

Six: Based on number four, if you cut me off unnecessarily I will do everything in my power to return the favour immediately. If you’re planning on turning quickly, just wait the additional few seconds behind me.

Six: From one human to another, our equipment aside, I would advise against hot-headedness.

Seven: If you are in the wrong lane, that means that you are in the WRONG LANE – neither high speed, nor loud sounds, nor flashing lights nor generally acting like a jerk make for right of way when you’re in the wrong lane.

Seven: Ok, but on a similar note, imaginations of stealth because of your slighter size does not validate your riding in the WRONG DIRECTION. Neither are you a pedestrian, so STAY OFF THE SIDEWALKS.

Eight: Oh, you’ve noticed that I am fitter and more energetic than you are, not to mention less of a blowhard? So have I. Oh, you’ve noticed that people can stand behind my cycle and not cough and wipe their eyes? So have I.

Eight: If this is about impressing people, have you noticed my bulging bank account? And am I the one with an unfashionable helmet on by head? I don’t think so.

Nine: Take note of the fact that I am not enclosed in steel and plastic as you are – rather, I am open to the elements, and highly damageable.

"not enclosed in steel and plastic"

Nine: Contrary to what you may think, I do not want to have to deal with the nuisance of an accident – otherwise why would I have chosen the comforts that come with a car?

Ten: Not being enclosed in steel and plastic, I can hear you coming from a very long ways away – no reason to blast me with your horn, unless you’re horny.

Ten: I am no clairvoyant; therefore since you lack the essential technical aides to indicate the general direction in which you are going, I would suggest using those very able, fit and energetic arms of yours.

Bonus: We will both continue to respect the egg-delivery bicyclists as the saints of the roadway.

Bonus: And we will agree to form an alliance against the ultimate impunity pests on the city streets of Kathmandu – the motorcyclists.

-The Gadhiwalla