One of my enduring memories
from the first time I visited Melbourne is walking around looking for
lunch and spotting a compact row of bright blue bicycles that were
neatly stowed on the sidewalk.
The first question that
popped up in my mind was: “How come everyone here rides the exact
same bicycle?”
A moment later, I felt
sheepish. I realised that it was a bike rental system. Precisely the
kind of system I wish upon all cities. At home, of course, it is
unlikely to work. First of all, there are no cycling lanes. When the
national capital, Delhi, tried to create a cycling track along one
stretch of BRT (a rapid bus transit lane) a few years ago, it was
promptly hijacked by motorcyclists and auto-rickshaws. A few small
cars tried to squirm in as well. Cops had to be stationed there to
catch and fine three and four wheeled drives. It never was possible
to fine scooters and motorbikes – because they insisted that they
interpreted the bicycle symbol for the lane as a 'two-wheeler
symbol'. At any rate, the BRT system was dismantled and the exclusive
bicycle track vanished. Currently, bikes ride on the pavements.
Secondly, there's a good
chance the bicycles would get stolen. We'd need to station cops or
guards to make sure people paid rent and returned them.
I wanted to ask my friends
in Melbourne: “How come your bicycles don't get stolen?” But it
felt like a foolish question. Maybe they had some technology to track
down stolen bikes. Or perhaps, bicycle theft simply wasn't worth the
trouble and the risk of prosecution.
In India, of course,
bicycles are useful, not just as a vehicle but also a potential
source of scrap metal. And there are a great many people who take
great risks for very little gain. That same year, there was a robbery
in my uncle's house. One of the employees' bicycles was stolen at
night, despite high boundary walls all around. The local security
guards' bicycles had also been stolen a few nights before, so they
had been keeping their eyes peeled. The thief was soon caught red-handed.
He had made the mistake of returning to the same street to steal some
iron rods that were lying outside a house.
Anything that's sitting on
the road, or even just inside one's own property, if it's easily
accessed from the road, is likely to tempt some desperate citizen.
Iron rods aren't worth a lot of money – definitely not worth time
spent in prison – and yet, people try to steal them. Metal drain
covers are stolen sometimes. Dustbins aren't spared either. In
Mumbai, I have seen elevated metal bins with their bottoms cut out.
Metal tumblers are often chained to free drinking water outlets, so
people don't walk away with them. Tumblers in train toilets are
chained to taps. The taps in public toilets get stolen too.
I once lived on a street
where the slabs of stone that covered an open drain were stolen. That
monsoon, we were all wading through overflowing sewage.
I don't know how much a slab
of stone costs. Nor do I know what it costs to cover drains. But one
thing I do know: wading through sewage is an experience that
diminishes your self-esteem. And thinking about the man who steals
drain covers for a living, being caught and put in jail does not make
you feel any better.
First published here: http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-national/tp-mumbai/not-quite-highway-robbery/article2389864.ece3