A nation on the road
I am now old but did not feel so until I realized that my attention had been gradually moving from ‘Fantasy’ to ‘Reality’. The other day I was driving myself in the morning. When a beautiful girl crossed the road and dumped a bag of garbage in front of a house right opposite to hers. Thirty years ago I would have missed this act for the girl. But now that I am old her act caught my eye more than the girl. I continued to drive brooding over this incident. Then I realized that the girl’s act was not so uncommon in Sri Lanka. My mind was so occupied until it was jolted when the car fell into a pothole courtesy the negligence of road engineers. It was early in the morning but I already witnessed the second uncommon experience -the pothole – in the country. I had to make an effort to take the car out of the hole, but the truck driver behind me was in a mighty hurry and started blasting the horn. How lucky I was to experience a bit of sound pollution. I gave him way and he overtook me almost touching my car , with an annoyed look at me and raising a cloud of smoke. I experienced the air pollution. Then I received a call on my phone and briefly answered to agree to call back.
Unfortunately, a Police Officer noticed, stopped me and levied a spot fine. I turned the car to mingle with the moving traffic when I saw a driver of a commuter bus overloaded with children, pregnant mothers and many other passengers -busy in a long phone conversation. I looked at the police officer who looked away. I noted the contact details of the owner of the bus which appeared on the back and make a call . A senior Traffic Police Officer answered but he has no time to listen to me as he had to go out on traffic duties. I kept on and was caught up in the usual morning traffic jam. Tooting horns, zigzag driving, u-turning, lanes changing and pedestrians crossing all over the road (except at the pedestrian crossing) and many similar acts against the Highway Code (if one exists any more) were not uncommon. Buses were overloaded; passengers were waiting and wasting hours in heavy rain/hot sun at bus halts trying to draw the attention of vehicles
(including my own) with a seating capacity of five or more but carrying a single occupant. The day starts with everyone being abusive or abused and cursing or being cursed. The day ends in the same mood. The causes for lagging behind the rest of the world are clearly seen on the road. I turned to Union Place at Town Hall junction (it is no longer Lipton Circus). The
first thing I see is an elegant office and a showroom of a leading vehicle importing firm. The huge bill board of ‘LIPTON’ which had been there for many decades has already disappeared. It was replaced by the name of the vehicle importing firm. ‘Lipton Circus’ which was the nerve centre of our leading export-tea- was no more. It has turned into a centre for imports.
As I drove down the Union Place I noticed several enterprises dealing with imports of vehicles, spare parts and accessories replacing all leading tea manufacturing/exporting firms such as Commercials, Brooke Bond. The turn of the economy from a thriving export led nation into an import led one was well reflected all the way down the Union Place starting from Lipton Circus.
This reminded me of my rides to Kandy. I invite you to drive up the Kandy Road. The all green paddy fields are no more. They are replaced by vehicle yards, junk food restaurants, and cheap imported plastic toy traders. I, as a boy, used to travel by bus from Kandy to Katugastota. As I passed the sign of “Raa Bomu” at Mahaiyawa my eyes never missed the patches of paddy fields on both sides of the road. Take a ride today. They have all become havens for “Car Traders”.
My eyes did not miss pedestrians walking in the middle of the road while vehicles were parked on the pavement. But, I got distracted by a vehicle which turned to the right while continuously flicking the signal to the left. The bus in front of me suddenly halted in the middle of the road without any warning. Then I saw a man alighting it.
How courteous and service minded when there is a chance to add another Rupee to the daily collection? These are minor distractions when you compare with frequent “u” turning by people of all walks. I was coming out of a wedding reception of a Muslim friend of mine. As I turned onto the main road from the hotel I was flagged down by a traffic police officer. He made some cursory inquiries keeping his nose very close to my face. He started complaining “what is this we stopped almost every car coming after the wedding; No one had taken liquor”. On the road he was practicing the letter of the law rather than the spirit of the law. It was for an unauthorized perk or for an extra point from his superior officer.
was on my way home on a recently rehabilitated road and fell into a crater dug by one service agency (CEB, Water Board, Telecom) dawning upon me how badly the matters are coordinated in this country.
Apparently, everyone is claiming the ownership of a road when it comes to benefit (use) and gains. Service gencies use the road to provide connectivity. Those who are overweight would use it for burning extra calories. Payment hawkers would use it to put up a temporary sales outlet. Some play cricket. Some use it for courting and dating. Some use to display their driving skills. Some (VIPs) use it to avoid their constituents. Some put up billboards. Some erects pandals and stages in the middle. Some use it for protest marches and rallies. Some use it to show their might. But when it comes to upkeeping none owns it – as it’s common for any public asset. With these cynical thoughts in mind I recalled an anecdote once mentioned by none other than the President when he was the Minister of Highways. He was returning from Horana and the car had fallen into a crater. He pulled down the shutter and told a bystander “Ralahamy Me Para hariyata hadala ne neda? (This road is not done up well isn’t it?). The bystander gazed at the President and responded “ethin Obathumane Mahamarga Emathithuma” (So, You are the Minister in charge of Highways).
I got out of the congested road by turning into a narrow bye lane which was recently concreted with a sign of no-entry for heavy
vehicles. To my horror, a long container carrier was moving down the lane damaging walls and trees on both side and forcing every living thing to jump into the paddy field. I managed to continue my journey, of course a few miles behind the truck, and saw a few farmers tilling the land. They were in loin clothes and working in hot sun. When they bent down their sun tanned backs were shining at us symbolizing “we are toiling and sweating to feed you fellows who enjoy the city luxury and comfort” reminding me Nanda Malini’s famous song “His Minisun Kus Purawana” (The empty people who fills their bellies).Finally I was on my way back home from Borella driving down Parliament Road. I could not avoid a billboard with a large portrait of a VIP with a broad smile. I am still puzzled as to whether it was a smile or a grin or a laugh or a sneer.
(The writer is a retired civil servant).
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