Namma Metro's Purple Patch

Barely a couple of days after the east-west corridor of the Namma Metro (from Byappanahalli to Mysore Road) was thrown open to the public, I was waiting at Indiranagar metro station to go to Trinity Circle. I was approached by a middle-aged couple with their daughter in tow, "We want to go to Chickpet market, which will be the nearest station?" I made an educated guess, "Kempe Gowda station". Just then another person asked, “'To go to Visveshwaraya station, should I take the train to Mysore Road or Byappanahalli?”

I have been taking the metro off and on to beat the parking mess at M.G. Road, but this was the first time I was seeing so many passengers on the platform that too at an odd hour of around 12 noon on a working day. They all seem to be exploring what the extended purple line has on offer and their frustration with road traffic was more than palpable.

The fact that it offered connectivity to a commercial cum transport hub (Majestic) and the hot seat of babudom (Vidhana Soudha) and that too in air-conditioned comfort, away from the heat and dust of BMTC buses and auto rickshaws had excited many. 

Curious, I too decided that one day I should go up to Mysore Road and the trip finally materialised after many postponements. The time was around 11.30 am, not exactly a peak hour, and at Indira Nagar station there were some 5-6 people in the queue. 

Though it was nearly a month after East West corridor opened, the novelty had still not waned. There were still many people taking selfies, groupfies and family photos on the platform, much to the annoyance of security personnel. The train finally arrived and the loco pilot happened to be a woman. Male loco pilots seem to be a rarity in Namma Metro, don't recall seeing one myself.

After boarding, I had to make do with holding on to stirrups as no seats were vacant. When the trains were plying only up to M G Road, one could easily count on one's fingers the number of passengers per bogie. The succeeding stations like Ulsoor and Trinity only had passengers trickling in, with hardly anyone alighting. Only at MG Road there was some outflow.

The train then entered the much vaunted underground stretch ('the first in South India' gushed many of our city dailies) that took ages to get completed. The descent from Chinnaswamy stadium was gentle. The stations on the underground stretch looked as if they were hurriedly done up with some finishing work still pending. The 'jugaad' mindset was very much at play.

As the train pulled into Kempegowda station, there was a widespread churn and I did manage to get a seat. The station has the makings of a busy junction with trains gorging and disgorging passengers - a gentrified version of Dadar station in Mumbai.

As the train crossed Magadi Road station it was a gentle ascent out of the underground section. I must confess my knowledge of this side of Bangalore is very scanty and apart from Vijayanagar and Mysore Road, the rest of the stations like Hosahalli were indeed quite 'hosa' (new) to me.

The Mysore road station was quite a misnomer as none of landmarks such as Satellite Bus station or Gopalan Mall were anywhere close to it. As I stepped out it looked as if this station was built out of nowhere. The highway was buzzing with vehicles and so was the flyover above, with hardly any shops or restaurants nearby.

Anyhow it is a work in (slow) progress and with the purple line proposed to run up till Kengeri, its only a matter of time before the above landmarks become accessible by Namma Metro.

Tail piece: While waiting at Indiranagar station ticket counter I happened to see an unusual notice pasted on the glass panel. It stated that children above three feet height require full-ticket, or words to that effect. I just hope that the BMRCL personnel manning the ticket counters keep a measuring tape handy, in case they run into some stubbornly argumentative parents! 

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Feline diaries: My Brush With Concrete Jungle

Hi, I am five years old and a creature of the jungle. I reside in the lush grassland in forests close to Bangalore and roam around long distances foraging for food. The shrinking of habitats and near disappearance of some of my usual preys often puts me face to face with what the deluded and self centred humans call civilization.

Despite advice from my elders I am often forced to take risks and venture into their concrete jungle. We are solitary animals and nocturnal hunters and very good at camouflage and stealth, hence we get rarely spotted by humans. Under night cover we enter their habitats and stealthily pounce upon stray dogs and other domesticated animals and vanish. It has been going on without much ado. As far as possible we avoid any panga with humans and vanish the moment we see them.

But on Feb 7 things went awry. I happened to stray into a building located close to an eucalyptus grove and somehow I failed to notice that someone was watching me. By the way one of my eyes have gone blind due to some mysterious reason. 

After a few hours I saw lots of humans and noise. I quietly retreated to the bushes nearby. I was breaking into a cold sweat as I had never seen so many humans in my life. I decided to stay put there hoping no one finds me. I could either wait for the din to settle down to sneak out to the forest or wait till night to retreat. There was no sign of my Plan A happening as there was no let up in crowds and some even came with dogs in tow, making me all the more jittery thinking these canines might smell me out. Hence with bated breath I waited wishing the night to set in early.

Then suddenly I heard shrieks of excitement and a crowd moving towards me. I realised that I have been spotted. I was totally at my wits end as I could not see any escape route. I sneaked back to the building in panic and was utterly clueless where to hide. Meanwhile crowds outside the building swelled and I could even hear some deafening noises, followed by smoke and foul smell.

I darted from one room to another and later hid in one of them. I could hear voices and soon heard a loud noise and realised that a door has been shut and so was my escape route. I climbed up the window and realised that it had a soft mesh and soon I could push it away and ended up in another room. There too I saw a window with soft mesh and leapt out of the building.

I came close to strange looking water body. It was blue in colour. Soon I felt an excruciating pain in the belly as if being pierced by a thorn. The pain plus the presence of so many humans around and their murderous chants made me realise that I better fight back. I attacked six people who were in the vicinity. But later started feeling dizzy and collapsed.

Life in captivity

As I regained my senses, I realised that I was at a far less hostile environs, though I was yet to overcome the trauma and stress I had undergone few hours before. However I soon realised that there was little space for me to move around and it only aggravated my restlessness. In the neighbouring enclosure there was a tiger, who too was in the same predicament, but seemed foolishly content about it.

I just bided my time. Meanwhile I was getting treated for my wounds and felt nonplussed when provided with food at regular intervals by humans. I must confess I did enjoy getting food without having to sweat it out in long chases and climbing trees.

But the yearning for freedom was something I could not subdue. I kept a watch on my human captors and their activities. I kept a close watch on how my cage door was being opened while providing food. I realised that for them remaining alert during nights was quite a challenge.
Nearly a week later I lay in wait during night. I squeezed myself out the cage through a small opening. Then I climbed the tall trees close to the fence and jumped across and ran for my life. 

I was finally free and back in the lap of nature I am thankful that my nightmare has ended.

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Pipes On Footpath, Pedestrians Beware

A stroll down the pavement on HAL Airport Road from the airport entrance to Wind Tunnel road has now turned into an obstacle course with pedestrians often being forced to step on to the road and risk their lives. 

Like any other footpath in Namma Bengaluru, this one too had its share of broken and unsteady slabs, is encroached upon and gets 'run over' by bikers during rush hour traffic. But now pedestrians have to contend with a far more formidable challenge – cement pipes. 

Civic authorities have piled up giant pipes, mostly in a pyramidal formation, each about 20 feet long and having two feet diameter. These pipes are lying at various stretches of the footpath and occupy most of the space.

Hence that leaves the pedestrians with no option but to step on to the road and risk their lives, especially during office hours when for the motorists every inch counts.

While approaching the garbage collection point near Kemp Fort, one has to gingerly negotiate through the garbage residue and hold the breath to endure the everlasting stench. It becomes more acute when porakarmikas go on strike or those residing near the city’s landfills rise in protest.

If you happen to pass by when the garbage collection is in progress, with garbage trucks and autos parked on the side, you will be forced to walk right in the middle of the road with Volvo buses, autos and bikers breathing down your necks.

Next in line comes a bus shelter, which often doubles up as a restroom for cows, reminding the bus commuters of their cattle class status.  

Like most squatters these pipes too seem to be in for a long haul. They have been lying for nearly a month and looks like the authorities have almost forgotten about it. 

The pipes have already gathered a fair share of standard waste matter found on Indian streets - cigarette packets, liquor bottles, plastic tea cups, paper wrappers, tetra packs and plastic bags. Unless the civic authorities pull up their socks, dogs and bandicoots may soon start calling these pipes their home.

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Why Can't Manholes Be At Road Level?

The city may have earned many flattering monikers such as garden city, IT capital, start-up capital and the like, but when it comes to handling basic issues such as roads, drains, and power supply the city still seems stuck with 18th century methods and technology.

A look at the way manholes have been built on or near the roads is a case in point. They are rarely at the road level and some protrude almost one feet above the roads, posing danger to motorists during nights and when the streets get flooded due to rains.

I am no civic expert but I don’t understand why manholes cannot be built at road levels or why there is no uniform standard across the city. 

The manhole near the lane where I live is located on a gradient and stands nearly a foot above the road level. It is close to a storm water drain and further shrinks the width of an already narrow road. Motorists have to avoid it, thereby leaving space for only one four-wheeler to pass at a time. 

Thus the spot becomes a rite of passage for motorists, especially during peak hours, as they often indulge in brinkmanship to get the first chance to pass. Those coming down the gradient feel they have the divine right to pass first and those climbing the gradient too harbour the same sentiment with equal vigour. 

High decibel honking, angry gesticulation and even heated arguments break out and the traffic on narrow lane gets held up. This is a common scene around 9-10 am when people are rushing to work. And I am sure this is not an isolated case in the city. There may be many such manholes which stand out like sore thumbs and hamper traffic movements, thanks to shoddy workmanship.

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Swachh Bengaluru? Houdaa!

Bangaloreans are rubbing their eyes in disbelief. Their city recently aced Swacch rankings - it has been adjudged 'cleanest' among state capitals in the country and has an all-India ranking of seven. However these impressive rankings drew more incredulous guffaws than elation.

A small minority did post 'congrats Bangalore' or 'proud to be Bangalorean' messages on social networking sites and for the Siddaramaiah Government this news must be a source of some comfort, as the city would soon have civic polls and the government's report card had more black marks than potholes on city roads. But for the majority of Namma Bengaluru residents it was as if they have been told that driving through Silk Board junction or K R Puram signal was as easy as a stroll in the Cubbon park.

Some felt this might be some silly mistake (maybe Bangalore is actually at the bottom of heap and misconstrued as being on top) or the survey has been totally manipulated. While others wondered if a city like Bangalore has earned such a distinction then what kind of hell holes other state capitals and cities in the country may be. The latter seems more plausible as the study was done to check on open defecation and solid waste management in municipal areas. They also assessed the drinking water quality, waste water management and the status of disposal of sewage from septic tanks.

Using the above markers the fact remains that even in the toniest neighbourhoods in Bangalore one is never away from heaps of garbage, at various stages of putrefaction, with dogs, crows and cows rummaging through it. Those carrying out the assessment either failed to see all this or they had little choice - other cities had even more hideous underbellies, notwithstanding toxic foaming lakes of Bellandur and Yemalur.

However what surprised me was that Hyderabad figured way down (ranked 275) the list, among some of the cow-belt towns synonymous with filth and squalour, which also  ensure that our social indicators remain rooted to  sub-Saharan levels. The city was the darling of most coffee table conversation in Bangalore. Whenever the topic of Bangalore's nightmarish traffic or poor infrastructure crops up, Hyderabad is often cited as an example Bangalore could follow.

Lastly the ugly fact remains that all the cities in our country are way too filthy, thanks to our poor civic sense, runaway population growth and long standing mismanagement by our city fathers.

Many cities in the world, most notably Singapore, which were filthier than ours few decade ago have metamorphosed into neat futuristic places, almost on par with European and North American cities. Whereas our cities seem to be regressing further and inspire little hope. They often figure prominently in surveys such as 'world's most polluted cities' and similar dubious distinctions.

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Close Encounters With Alcometers

As my office timings are more of a graveyard variety with no weekend offs, while returning home I do sometimes run into barricades with policemen wielding alcometers.
 
Some would let me go without checking, probably they could easily read the acute hangover of office work writ large on my face. Some would peep into the rolled down window of my car and ask my name. On realising that there is no slurring of speech or I smell more of roti, sabzi or masala dosa with not even a whiff of Old Monk, they let me go.
 
However the more cautious ones place the alcometer, which resembles the first generation Nokia or Motorola mobile phone, near my mouth and say 'blow maadi'. Sometimes my blows are not strong enough (the thought of contracting some air borne diseases from those alcometers psyche me out) and they would ask me to do so again. After blowing I have to wait with some trepidation (have heard many stories of faulty alcometers) for that all-clear beep sound, which sometimes seems like eternity. Once it happens I get the green signal to go.
 
While pulling off my car I do see many not so fortunate ones, who happen to land on the wrong side of alcometer reading, lined up on the side of the road. They will be arguing and gesticulating with police higher ups seated inside jeeps. Sometimes I also see cops arguing with two wheeler riders after the test and taking off the ignition keys of the vehicle and ordering the riders to wait on the road side.
 
These barricades are often put up in close proximity to watering holes like pubs and five star hotels and in junctions which cannot be bypassed. Most of those who land in the police net are the ones returning from parties in their choicest party wear on fancy motorbikes and swanky cars. This is the scene on most Friday and Saturday nights and this drive gets more vigorous if a festival is round the corner.
 
The other day around midnight on December 30, 2014 near Koramangala Sony signal I was witness to a high drama. As the signal turned green I was about to take a left turn, but a cop with alcometer in hand flagged me down. As I stopped and he was about to say 'blow maadi' a scooter with three guys on it came up and the rider was not wearing a helmet either. Seeing a surefire scope for fines his attention got diverted.
 
But when he tried to flag them they tried to escape but fell right in front of my car. The policeman too suffered bruises on his shin during his efforts to stop them. His compatriot who was on the other side came rushing to his help. Both rained blows on the trio and took them and the scooter to the other side of road to fine them. I had no choice but to bear witness to all this, as the signal had turned red. However, in the melee the policeman forgot to check my alcohol levels and as the signal turned green once again I left.

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Underage Driving: Menace on Wheels

A scene near a junction in Koramangala: Three boys clad in school uniform on a scooter graze past a Volkswagen Vento resulting in scratches on the rear end of the car. The trio had a minor fall but they immediately get up and race away before the middle aged car driver could do anything other than come out of his vehicle and throw up his hands in helplessness. The school kids fled unmindful of their minor injuries because they had breached three traffic rules (a) Riding triple on a bike (b) None of them were wearing helmet and (c) The guy riding the bike probably was nowhere old enough to have a licence!

Though the above incident may be dismissed as a harmless prank by restless teenagers, but quite often the consequences are far more disastrous, often causing serious injuries and even deaths to the riders and pedestrians.

The presence of a vehicle at their home often works as a huge motivator to learn how to handle them, especially when it happens to be of their siblings. A beginning is made by fiddling with horn and then, in case of two-wheelers, sitting on it to check if their legs are long enough to touch the ground. Then they graduate to getting a hang of brake and gear. Nothing gives them a bigger kick to impress their friends by flaunting their driving skills.

In many cases the parents too encourage and even feel proud that their underage ward has become an 'expert' driver of a scooter or car and see it as a sign of being adventurous. They see in them something they couldn't accomplish while they were young, in those licence-permit raj days even a cycle was a luxury. For many affluent parents it is the guilt of not have much time for their children that motivates them to gift them two-wheelers to keep them happy or else to keep up with the neighbours. Some are conscientious enough not to let their wards use two-wheelers to school, but allow them to use it while going for tuition, in order beat poor bus connectivity, and save time.

However, these coming of age rides do go awry leading to accidents and the subsequent brush with law makes the whole picture messy as the law sees accidents caused by someone without licence as criminal offence and makes parents too responsible. They are also barred from claiming insurance.

For parents it’s a huge embarrassment to step into police stations and they use all their clout to avoid it. Then they move heaven and earth to keep their children out of juvenile homes. Hence in most cases when an underage driver gets involved in accident, he flees the scene and later an older person with driving licence shows up to claim responsibility, to dilute the offence - as it happened in the recent episode involving the scion of India's richest family in Mumbai. The same trick was unsuccessfully tried at an earlier accident involving a prominent realtor's son in Bangalore. This tendency to go to any extent to save their wards only encourages underage driving and then even graduates to dangerous stunts like wheelies and drag racing.

Another issue that gets hardly reported is that of cleaning boys taking over the wheels of trucks on highways or while driving water lorries and tractors within the city. Drivers, who may be either tired or drunk, happily hand over the wheels to these boys, who may be barely aware of concepts like licence, often with disastrous consequences.

The business of preventing underage brats from using vehicles rests mainly with parents, followed by the police and schools.

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Adding Zing to Nightlife

For the city's glitterati it was time for euphoria. They have been smarting under jibes from their counterparts in Mumbai and Delhi that Bangalore has no night life. The closing time of restaurants and bars at 11.30 pm was seen as too uptight. Now the government has decided to take baby steps towards extending the deadline to 1 am for eateries on all days and for bars on Fridays and Saturdays, though with a caveat of 'trial period' for three months.

The city youths and some advocacy groups drawn from the who is who of technology economy had all along felt that such early closing hours does not jell with a city of international repute. With general elections round the corner the netas feel tempted to toss crumbs to the electorate and what better way to woo first time voters than increasing party hours. However the guys who are actually smirking and hoping for a windfall are those from the liquor lobby.
 
The men in khaki were always seen as party poopers as they had all along been saying that the existing staff has been stretched to their limits and they badly need some fresh recruits. But they had to willy nilly fall in line after being assured the cold comfort of support from home guards.
 
However they are not the only ones opposing it. The message boards of various news reports on many web sites have a legion of naysayers saying that crime graph would spike. Those nostalgic about end of pensioner's paradise era in city felt it will only help rich 'outsiders' get sloshed and drive cars and motorcycles under the influence.
 
Many also point out that though it would be okay to keep bars open for longer hours at the central business districts, but those located in predominantly residential suburbs could make lives miserable for nearby residents. It would only mean loud music, eve teasing and alcohol fuelled wheelies and drag racing  in their neighbourhood.
 
But the advocates of extended nightlife counter that crowds out on roads well past midnight will provide the safety of numbers and crime will actually come down. Keeping bars open well past midnight will discourage binge drinking.
 
However amid this din of heavily polarised debate nobody is asking what actually constitutes night life? Is it just keeping bars and restaurants open? What about public transport system such as BMTC buses and Metros? Shouldn't they also ply till the closing hours of nightlife? In its present form the only people who can enjoy nightlife are those who have their own vehicle (preferably chauffeur driven as police alcometers will be working overtime) or can afford taxis and autos. For others the extension of nightlife has little meaning. Hence, the argument about safety of numbers rings hollow.
 
The reason why a city like Mumbai has a bustling nightlife and continues to be fairly safe is because its public transport system functions almost round the clock. The last suburban train from Churchgate and CST leaves at 1.45 am and then begins services for the next day by 4 am. Same is the case with its BEST buses. It not only provides the safety of numbers on the streets but dissuades auto and taxi drivers from charging a fortune.

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Fear Factor at ATMs

It has been nearly a month since a grainy video spooked TV news viewers through its raw Hitchcockian brutality.  A woman enters an ATM kiosk to draw money. A man follows her. Seemed like a regular office goer, clad in a striped shirt and had a shoulder bag. But his sinister intentions become immediately apparent after he brings down the shutter in a jiffy. He demands money from her, but she refuses. Out from his shoulder bag, which many of us may use to carry files and lunch box, comes a large machete and a gun. After assaulting the woman he leaves with cash and a mobile phone.

Barring the minor success of tracking down the stolen mobile phone in Anantapur district, the ATM assailant is proving too smart for the men in khaki. His finger prints don't match with police records, thus showing he is either a first time offender or has come from some other state.

The assailant has also cleverly darted the trap the modern day criminals fall into - making calls on cell phones. Looks like the guy might be a lone ranger. For police it leaves only human intelligence or good old khabari as an option to hunt him down.

The police carried out a reality check of city ATMs and many of them were shuttered due to lack of security measures. The bank where this incident happened had no security guard and even the shutter was not latched on top, making the job of the assailant all the more easy.

To the general public it only meant lots of inconvenience, as they had long unlearned the habit of patiently queuing up at bank cash counters. Later many of them were restored once security guards were deployed, though many others measures suggested by the police remain unfulfilled.

Banks, which had already got many wake up calls, after earlier incidents of burglars decamping with ATM machines,  are still dragging their feet. They claim they will have to call for tenders and seek approvals from their corporate office to implement some of the proposed security measures. Slogans like 'Think global, act local' apparently has little to do with customer's safety!

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Jottings on Mysore Road

Nearly five years back while driving down to Mysore the worst on the traffic front used to get over after scaling the BGS flyover, but now one has to reach Wonder La to come anywhere near the fifth gear. The BGS flyover now acts as a short interval before the going gets even tougher. Even inside the sturdiest of vehicles one gets a feel of venturing out on a small boat into the sea with cyclone Phailin for company. Mysore road is not for the faint hearts. The twin infrastructure mayhem of an under-construction Metro elevated rail and a flyover plus the volume of traffic cracks even the most composed and accomplished motorists.

Buried among these works are the numerous deadlines and assurances. The last one was by a minister who said the at least the roads in these stretches will be less taxing on the commuters' spinal  cords and vehicles' suspension by Dasara. The latest buzz is that it will be fixed before the proposed visit of Gujarat Chief Minister Narendra Modi as the ruling Congress party wants to avoid his barbs over city's infrastructure! Clearly the slight of a rival politician is more important than the agony of commuters who have to rough it out on these roads on a daily basis.
 
Whether it is a sign of rising population or growing empowerment, the number of speed breakers on the Bangalore-Mysore highway have risen dramatically. Earlier it used to be one speed breaker per municipality or taluk, but now it is one per panchayat or panchayat ward, which takes a toll on the pace. Lack of street lights makes life even more difficult for motorists plying in the night.
 
Cattle and bullock carts act as spokes to the journey. Somewhere between Ramanagaram and Channapatna we had a minor traffic jam - the reason? a bullock cart laden with fresh sugarcane crop had strayed into the wrong side of the divider. Hapless motorists could do little other than fume and honk while the cart ambled on the right side of the road. The bullocks and the cart driver were maintaining a zen-like composure, totally unmindful of the cacophony they had caused. Even the hyper-aggressive drivers of KSRTC buses and trucks had to grudgingly make way.
 
The cart guy wanted to go to a lane on the right side of the highway. However abiding by the traffic rules would have meant keeping to the left and taking a U-turn couple of kilometres down the highway - something quite alien to him. After all he needn't worry about  traffic police, fines, road tax or even fuel prices.
 
Some of the towns on the way have grown to become as crowded and chaotic like some Bangalore suburbs. The Mandya town with traffic signals, slow moving traffic and crowded junctions reminded me of BTM Layout.

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Deconstructing Suranjan Das Road

Apart from the usual suspects – the civic officials and the contractors – the 4-5 kilometre long Suranjan Das Road, which provides a vital link between Old Madras Road and Old Airport Road, is also a conspiracy involving automobile mechanics, orthopedics and of course those offering quack remedies for neck and back pain. For the medical fraternity the road can be an ideal place to carry out experiments to determine the threshold limit of strain a human bone can be subjected to, before it reconciles to plasters.

In its monsoon glory the stretch near Gitanjali Layout resembles poor man's Venice. The road was meant to be four-laned, but now it has two lanes of antiquated concrete road and two lanes of mini-canal with nearly four-feet deep trenches all along. With the jurisdictional C V Raman Nagar MLA belonging to BJP and a Congress government at Vidhana Soudha, much water is expected to flow down these trenches before a four-lane road becomes a reality.

The stretch from the BEML Gate to HAL Aerospace Division has an uncanny knack of getting inundated with knee deep water, even if there is a 15-minute drizzle. During heavy rains it acquires the menacing ability to even make burly Tata Sumos gasp for breath, due to inundated exhaust pipes.

For those who wish to get a hang of what off-road racing is all about, but loath to drive all the way to the city outskirts, the stretch near the HAL vegetable market could be ideal to learn the basics.

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