The ferry, and the bridge under construction |
Once across the river from Dhemaji, the distance to the highway leading to Dibrugarh town wasn't that far. But on any given day it was an ordeal for some 250-odd vehicles to reach the highway as most of them would invariably sink into the pulverized sand to be negotiated before hitting the road head. Although we drove cautiously to avoid being sand trapped, odds were stacked against us as well. Much to our dreaded surprise, our collective wisdom was of little value in overcoming the unavoidable hurdle. Panic-stricken as we were, attempts at applying acceleration sank our car further into the sands.
Having run out of all options, we signaled those three youngsters who were helping others, to pull us out of trouble. With many vehicles falling into the sandy trap each moment, their services were over subscribed. Yet, they rushed towards us and in a couple of minutes our car was out of the muddle. They surprised us by charging a pittance for the benevolence.
Divorced from the conventional idea of giving vehicles a forward push, those young guys instead gave the vehicle an alternate sideways lift to slide some shrubs underneath the tyres to secure a forward movement. It was no big deal, but why did it not occur to us? The whole point of jugaad is that it is never a big deal. No surprise, it is often said that common sense is often uncommon. But the point is that such a simple idea didn't occur to us but was borne in the minds of those who perhaps didn't drive themselves. To me it seems we are wired as an inbuilt cultural empathy to solve common problems, and to innovative solutions for the society at large.
Ingenious ways of resolving societal problems come natural to us. It is thinking-out-of-the-box that is part of our cultural construct, and which while being taken as given remains grossly undervalued too. In a capitalist system, the value of a service lies in it fitting into the accepted norms of convenience. So be it. The 4.9 kilometre Bogibeel bridge over Brahmaputra, opened in 2018, has created convenience of movement like never before, cutting down on distance and travel time across the river. The ferry ecosystem that we briefly partnered with has run out of business since then.
That the imposing bridge has distanced people from the river to which they belonged for their livelihoods and survival remains nobody's business. Over time, it is such convenient distancing that brews apathy among communities towards the(ir) river.
First published in The Hindu on July 25, 2021.
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