HUSSAFAR FLYOVER AND GUMSHUDA CHAURAHA

HUSSAFAR FLYOVER AND GUMSHUDA CHAURAHA

15-JULY-ENG 36

RAJIV NAYAN AGRAWAL

ARA--------------------------Let the world know about the things of the world. I am worried about my country. A big conspiracy is going on here. Crossroads are disappearing from the country. Flyovers are swallowing small and big squares and intersections. The same people who give long speeches about staying connected to the ground, they also like to fly. Nobody knows – why are you flying? Till when will you fly? How much will you fly? Fly! Who can stop you! But don't forget! Here, there are many artists who count the feathers of the flying birds. They keep account of every flight. They recognize the reality buried under every flyover.

Crossroads are considered to be the origin of traffic jams. Red lights scare. But these red, yellow and green lights are not just traffic signals. They are the whole philosophy of life. They say – be patient. What is there now, will not remain in the future. Make your thinking positive. Consider the jam as an opportunity. This is an opportunity of the category of constipation. There is no companion here. Everything has to be handled alone.

You have enough time. A virtuous person turns it into quality time. A person stuck in traffic can practice patience. Can develop the power to control anger. Can turn irritation into a smile. Call those friends and oblige them, who have the habit of completing a two-minute conversation in fifteen minutes. Take out a calculator. Do the additions and subtractions to find out how much percent of your life you have sacrificed to traffic jams. This can become a solid reason for reaching anywhere late, so that you can easily escape.

You are not running away from the traffic signal! You are hiding your face from your bitter truth. You should definitely hide it. It is your face. Who will stop you? The one who is going to stop you is busy in making his own plans. He is busy in flying. What does he have to do with the common man's intersections!

We are concerned about the intersections. They are our companions in joy and sorrow. Despite being mute, they have taught us to speak. Our voice has been raised under their silent umbrella. They have been the epitome of impartiality. They welcome every passerby, every idea. They are always ready to welcome everyone with open arms. They have a feeling of belongingness in their hearts. They sit on dharnas. They demonstrate. They take out torchlight processions. They break their heads. They break the legs of the person in front of them. Everything happens here. Complete democracy, the sentinels of democracy. Yours, from you and for you! Ours, from us and for us! Theirs, from them and for them! Everyone, for everyone and for everyone! This was the place where the foundations of small fights to big revolutions were laid. This was the stage where every voice was heard. No matter how soft it was.

Our crossroads are being snatched away. Flyovers are being built one after the other to suppress our voice. These flyovers do not appeal to us even with our eyes. They are very tall. They are many kilometers long. They are absolutely gigantic. As if they are moving ahead crushing the heads of streets, neighborhoods and cities. It is said that the flyover is connecting one area to another. I don't believe it. It is not connecting, it is breaking. It is cutting them off from each other. It is isolating them.

Why do you bring the CM sahab to a city located just 100-50 kms away from the capital by helicopter? You say you are saving time. Speak the truth. Say that you are bypassing the villages and their problems on the way. We understand the meaning of fly very well. In the tsunami of flyovers, not only our intersections have been washed away, we ourselves have been washed away. Our existence has been washed away. Our collective consciousness, the symbol of our connection - everything has been buried under a pile of rubble. Will we now just keep losing our identity amidst tall buildings and fast moving vehicles?