Sumana Narayanan, Senior Researcher

More than a decade ago, I was living in the nation’s capital. Navigating New Delhi’s traffic, dredging up my high school Hindi and coping with work and managing my own place was quite a juggling feat. In the middle of this, I got a call from my landlord gently chiding me for not paying the previous month’s rent. But I distinctly remembered writing the cheque and depositing it and so couldn’t fathom what had gone wrong. Anyhow, I promised him I would look into it and if needed pay double with the next cheque. My landlord, being a lovely person, was content with that promise. 

Recently, the Greater Chennai Traffic Police (GCTP) announced they were in the process of introducing several technological upgrades, including the installation of cameras with ANPR (automatic number plate recognition) and speed detection systems. Such automated systems are common across the world but have just started coming into the picture in India. 

Bicycles were associated with wealthy young men in the early part of the 20th century, particularly being favoured by the sahibs and the Indian elite. In a few years, as bicycles became more common and popular, the prestige waned. By the 1920s it was not seemly for a senior official of the Raj to gallivant about on a cycle. A horse or carriage was seen as a better way to maintain distance and underline class distinctions. It was also not deemed acceptable to turn up to work or elsewhere looking hot and bothered due to cycling in the tropical weather.

The other day, cycling home from work, a two-wheeler came up behind me on the left and honked several times. She then overtook me on the left and as she did, I felt compelled to ask why she had honked. (Since the traffic was heavy and it was not a wide road, we were all crawling along.) Her response was that she was warning me! Of what I still don’t know. At one level that response could be read as aggression - “I am warning you, get out of the way, or else…” or it could be meant to inform me that she exists. Either way there was no need to honk.

How big is your city? Growing up in Chennai, my knowledge and therefore idea of the city extended possibly between school, home, and a few other places I frequented. While this has expanded, I don’t think I realised how big it actually was. In October 2022, the media reported that the Tamil Nadu government had cleared a 5-fold expansion of the city - from 1189 km2 to 5904 km2. I was a bit shocked that my city was already 1189 km2 big and now had gotten even larger. 

What is in a name?

On Twitter I came across someone lamenting a recently announced plan to build more flyovers in some Indian city (it matters not which city as this is a common phenomenon across the country). The tweet pointed out that increasing road infrastructure for private vehicles only encourages more private vehicles and it's a zero sum game. Of course, Twitter being what it is, someone immediately took umbrage, accusing the person of wanting to deny economically/socially disadvantaged people from climbing up the ladder and having access to their own personal vehicle.

Today the cyclist is infra-dig unless one is dressed in lycra and riding a high-end cycle that costs more than a car and the reason for cycling is recreation or sport. The cycle as a mode of commute, then, is for the poor, for those who have no other option and such cyclists are not considered as having a right to the road. Yet this humble vehicle – a simple construct of two wheels, a chain, some cranks, pedals, and metal rods - was once considered to be the pinnacle of transportation.