A few days ago, I was travelling from Bangalore to Mumbai. This is not my first trip to the South. I travel frequently to South India. Over the years, I drove down to Kochi, Mysore, Nagarhole, quite a few times. As someone who frequently takes the road, I have always had a sense of observation, especially when it comes to highways.
Let me take you through one such observation. After crossing Katraj in Pune, the road towards Satara and then Kolhapur used to be quite decent a few years ago. It was not a fast lane, but there was a slow, steady movement of vehicles. Drivers just had to reduce speed slightly. There were no heavy blocks or major obstacles. Perhaps a brief pause behind a long truck, but that was about it. The roadside had its charm too, with small shops and lush views. It was a peaceful, feel good experience for long distance travellers like me.
But today? That same stretch has turned into a nightmare.
From Katraj all the way to near Hubballi, the road is in absolute shambles. I am not talking about minor construction or a patch of repair work. This is massive. They are building a huge highway, a complete overhaul. What used to be a drivable path is now a dangerous maze. If you are not an expert driver, chances are you will either crash or get lost. Every few hundred meters, there is a new diversion. Take a left, then a sharp right, and your car ends up doing a zigzag marathon. Unless you are a magician, you might land at some final destination, but it is unlikely to be the one you planned for.
I have already written in earlier blogs about the government’s obsession with roads, or rather, with the money roads bring. Roads and bridges are not built for vehicles or pedestrians anymore. They are created for the economy of repairs and never-ending maintenance. A continuous cycle of funding and contracts that serve everything except the people.
And when something goes wrong, like an accident, who gets blamed? Always the driver. Never the system. No matter how broken or misleading the road is, the fault will be pinned on driver carelessness. Just like the case in Ahmedabad, where the late pilots were blamed for an aircraft malfunction.
Driving in India sometimes feels like being asked to a performer to perform on a stage, without one. Just chaos. Some diversions are so unclear that you find yourself at a sudden dead end. One road goes left, another seemingly disappears into a narrow stretch. And before you know it, you are driving on a two-way route with vehicles speeding toward you from the opposite direction. At night, it turns into a real-life episode of Road Rash. Terrifying, but not in a fun way.
We live in a country with a population of nearly 145 Crores. If someone dies in a road accident, it barely registers as news. “Oh, just another accident. Roads are meant for that, right?” That is the attitude. The apathy is so deep-rooted that it is now normalized. Human life already holds little value, and the government’s approach to infrastructure only confirms it.
A road, one of the most basic facilities for a citizen, has now become the most neglected one.
Is a road built for us to ride on, or is it built to ensure we crash?
This level of ignorance, of treating lives like numbers, is possible only in India. The value of a human here is not zero. It is in the negative.
Let us take another example. From Palakkad to Thrissur, there is ongoing renovation. But the delay is so unpredictable that a 30-minute stretch can turn into a 6-hour jam. If you are planning to attend a function or have any commitment, you had better say your prayers before leaving.
Just recently, I read about a man who was travelling to attend the funeral of a very close relative. Because of the massive block, he missed the final rites. The pain turned into protest. He publicly expressed his frustration and demanded accountability, asserting his civic right. There are countless such stories. People missing weddings, interviews, medical emergencies, or job opportunities, all due to the irresponsibility in infrastructure development.
What is worse? Even courts had to intervene. At one point, the judiciary instructed that either the construction be completed within a fixed time frame or toll collection be paused during the chaos. Sounds fair, does it not? But the response from the agency was outright audacious. They replied, “If we do not collect toll, we will shut down the roads.”
Yes, they threatened the judiciary.
The sheer arrogance of such statements, from agencies that ruin infrastructure and endanger lives, is mind-blowing. But then again, maybe not. This is India. Where construction is eternal, human life is disposable, and the only thing that runs on time is the blame game.
So here is to our highways. Proudly unfinished since independence. Built not for travel, but for trials. Not for citizens, but for contracts.
Drive safe. Or better, do not drive at all.
Every work needs accountability. That’s not there in our system. Unless and until it’s not incorporated in our books of law things won’t improve.
Knowing is the most beautiful thing on earth, and it becomes even more beautiful when it becomes a light to the hidden visions of others.