Taking toll on you and me!

Frequent users of the Bangalore-Madras highway, on which they strip one of roughly Rs.240 for the drive, or for that matter, any toll road in India, will find the contents of this post resonating well with them.  This particular road is still good, but has deteriorated in quality over the past year or two -- pretty abysmal, considering the fact that it has been functional only for 4 years or so -- with glaring and recurring evidence of some genuinely `sub'-contractors having displayed their `skills' on the road showing up.  Long stretches of the road are being closed for re-laying the top surface within such a short time, thereby drastically reducing the four lanes in two carriageways to two lanes in one.  This indicates that the age-old practice of  the sub-contractors using sub-standard materials, labour, techniques etc was seriously at work even on toll-road.  Surprising, because one wonders how the contractor forgot that he will have to dip into his own pocket to re-lay the toll-roads and cannot look to the munificence of the babus for government funding. 

While the quality of the ride may have improved significantly compared to the so-called national highway of yore, some of the quirks of road-travel during the trip are throw-backs to the earlier days - almost as if we will not be allowed to forget what things used to be!!

The first thing that strikes you when you line up and pay toll at the booth is that you are not dealing with the toll collector on equal terms, literally and physically.  He is sitting in a box which is at least a foot above the car window and it would be difficult for most drivers to reach out to him.  This difference in levels has created an additional employment opportunity in that the toll companies have had to introduce a special-purpose-vehicle in the form of an interlocutor, standing between the car and the toll collector, to bridge the distance as well as the gap in height.  As you approach the counter, this interlocutor has a single-word-question to all drivers - `single'??  He is not gathering information on your marital status for a survey, but is asking whether you plan to return on the same day, when you can pay the reduced `return' toll amount.  And even before you finish saying `yes' and hand over a 100-rupee note, the next robotically delivered question reaches you - `do you have 5 rupees'?  Invariably the toll is fixed by the company, in their infinite wisdom, at Rs.25, Rs.35 or Rs.45 for some unfathomable reason - I suspect it is only to provide this individual with incremental conversational opportunity - and he always tries to ferret out that 5 rupee coin you seem to be hiding for its numismatic value.  Not that they suffer from a severe dearth of coins; they just love to peel one from you to gloat over their good fortune and do a calypso at the end of the shift and so have to ask.  Once you express your inability to supply the coin of the desired denomination, which most of the drivers routinely seem to do, you do get the balance promptly (this includes a five-rupee coin obviously), along with the receipt, thereby indicating the collector has adequate supply of coins.  The height of the irony is that during one such exchange recently, a third individual inside the booth had some 4 bags of 5-rupee coins and was involved in some serious counting business, when the usual query was popped to my driver `do you have 5 rupees'??  We all laughed and said in chorus, pointing to the guy inside the booth, `No, but he does'.  If you thought this is unique with 5-rupee coins, you are wrong; if the toll is Rs.40 and you gave Rs.100, they will ask you if you have a 10-rupee note, so that they can return a 50-rupee note!! The characteristic Indian hoarding mentality never fails to hold forth and never fades!!

If you have travelled by road in Europe or US, you would have noticed that the right/left extreme lane remains unclogged and is used only by those overtaking others.  Such overtakers pass the vehicle in front and promptly move back to the other lane, as a matter of road discipline.  In India, we are new to the luxury of having multiple lanes to drive in and the inherent and complete lack of discipline that is the hallmark of Indian driver just got multiplied manifold by the generously additional space made available by the toll roads.  The result is that you notice frequently a tempo carrying a full load and then some, travelling at its 25 kmph peak speed  in the extreme lane even if the other lane is free.  But invariably that is not the case, as it is used by an ultra-long carrier holding something humongous -- actually it turns out to be a windmill blade that is about 60 ft in length -- going full tilt at 24 kmph.   That means all those fancy cars which are touted to reach 300 kmph in 20 seconds (of course, conditions apply and will never be met in India!) have to toodle along at 20 kmph and toot their horns in collective frustration, behind the aforesaid vehicles.  But there is some reprieve from boredom though.  Now, the drivers of these cars have to punt on whether the tempo or the carrier will be the eventual overtaker in this rather absorbing race and stay behind that vehicle.  Just that the process might take over 10 minutes, what with the drivers of the racing vehicles taking umbrage at each other for trying to compete intensely and accelerating by about 1 kmph, to keep the interest going for the punters!!  To boot, this might happen in some hilly part of the road where the gradient is steep; this means the speeds in question nosedive to 8 kmph and 7.5 kmph  respectively and you can imagine the agony of the other drivers, waiting for a small gap to emerge to dash through!  Wherever you see signs screaming `Heavy vehicles must stay on the left lane', you should expect in the next 50 metres, steep climbs and clusters of competing heavy vehicles anywhere but on the left lane!!

But it is not always fun and frolic.  Some typically thoughtless actions with possible deadly and tragic consequences are also played out on toll roads.  When you are moving along nicely at about 120 kmph, suddenly a couple of confounding headlights move towards you in your own carriageway - reminiscent of the old, two-lane roads.  This is a 'local' truck or tractor, fully loaded (the driver too, if probably fully loaded!), having used a gap in the verge to cross over and reach its destination on your side by the shortest possible route, ignoring all known rules of safety.  Such drivers have the temerity to think that they have done their duty as well as a big favour to you by switching on their headlights to warn you that they are doing something stupid and illegal.

The toll road is built with villages/towns all along the route (to be fair, the villages were always there, the road came later), very often one sees people standing around in clusters on either side of the road as well as on the middle verge.  Then, literally dripping with suicidal instincts and momentarily possessed by the village deity,  someone steps off the middle verge and runs across the broad highway looking straight, just as your car is approaching; I used to wonder how they knew I was coming and why they choose my car to sacrifice limb or life!!  There is no way of finding out and I have come to the conclusion that I should do serial offerings at all the temples along the route, to placate all the local deities and convince them to opt for some other car!!  The scary part is that most of such crossers are old men and women, who might have lost their vision partly and are probably short of hearing too; nothing else explains their hair-raising run.

Then, there are the mini tankers with their long hoses, used for watering the grass/plants on the verge in the middle of the road.  Invariably, the drivers of such trucks, with uncanny judgement and the exceptional skill they are endowed with in such matters,  park the trucks in the extreme right lane, around a bend in the road, such that you cannot see them even from 300 metres.  And there are no traffic-regulating-cones to warn you of activity around the bend.  As you belt down and run the bend, you suddenly come upon this gay, group activity akin to a lecture-cum-demonstration on `how to water plants using large hoses in the middle of the road' and have to brake heavily and swerve maniacally to avoid manslaughter.  I think the idea of plants in the middle of the road, however beautiful they are and even if they provide miniscule relief from the tedium of road travel, is a century ahead of its time in India.  Make it two centuries, to be safe.  As usual,  my wife disagrees and wants small gardens in the middle, all along the 350 km road, so that local people can also participate in the development of India and have a sense of ownership of roads and camaraderie with the road users!!  I shudder more violently than when I was doing that aforementioned, maniacal swerve!!

A few minutes with Rahul Dravid

I dont remember the year, but it was one of those in which Rahul Dravid had a great time in tests, as was usual those days. And it was the time when Ipods and mobile phones had not substituted larger devices like radios and cassette/CD players. I remember this distinctly because the CD player which Rahul was carrying was the reason I got to exchange a few words and spend a few minutes with him.  He had something like a small kit bag on his shoulder, was holding a tote bag in one hand and the CD player in the other.  We were walking out of the Bombay airport terminal at the same time towards the bus that would take us to the plane.  Something fell out of Rahul's hand. As he was struggling to bend and pick it up, hampered by all the hand-carried baggage, I picked it and handed it back to him, with a `hello, it is a privilege to meet you'. He was in his mid twenties then and was somewhat embarrassed by his predicament as well as my words, the humble and down-to-earth guy that he is.  He smiled shyly and told me as much with a simple `that is high praise indeed!' and then asked me about myself. As we chatted, we got into the bus.

I was curious about the rather large CD player he was carrying and asked him whether he lugged

it wherever he went.  He said `yes' and proceeded to explain that acoustics was something he put a premium on and he preferred that high quality CD player in the evenings to listen to music.  At one point, in the bus, near my foot I found a boarding pass on the floor and picked it up and stuffed it in my jacket pocket, obviously thinking that was mine.  Rahul smiled and said to me `now we are even, even if I did not pick it up for you'.  When we got down from the bus, some guys were waiting for him and he said bye to me and went to chat with them.  I boarded the plane, took my seat and was looking for him to come on board.  Even after 15 minutes, there was no sign of him and when I peeked through the window, I saw he was walking back to the terminal, after leaving his baggage near the plane, with someone keeping watch on them until he returned.  I wondered what he had forgotten and the airhostess who was watching me looking at Dravid, came and said `looks like he misplaced his boarding pass and would not let us go fetch a replacement for that.  He has gone himself to do the job.  We will take off when he returns'.  The mystery having been solved, I sat back and started reading the book I had brought.   Dravid returned soon and took his seat two rows in front of me and we took off.  Some 30 minutes into the flight,  I was trying to retrieve something from my jacket pocket and out came this boarding pass, with the name Rahul Dravid, Seat 2A, screaming at me!!   I reeled a bit and stared at the boarding pass, wondering how it reached my pocket.  When I figured that the boarding pass I picked up from the floor of the bus was not mine but Rahul's, I felt bad that a small lapse on my part in not looking at the name before putting into my pocket had made him go through some trouble.  But I also smiled because we were not even after all, as he suggested.  The boarding pass he had dropped twice within 10 minutes and we always thought he did not drop many!!

I walked to him, handed the boarding pass to him and conveyed my regret in having been responsible for his extra trudge to and from the terminal .  When he realised what happened, he smiled and apologised  for having been so clumsy and causing inconvenience to me!!  That kind of summarizes the guy for you, I think. Come to think of it, I should have kept the boarding pass for some bragging rights!!  Did'nt strike me at all at that moment.