Jam & packed
As a typecast Parisian, with both flourish and conceit in his pocket, the gentleman’s opening statement was: “Don’t you know that man discovered fire and invented the wheel?” I looked at him blankly. “So why are you still doing it?” he continued. This was in 2012. The person in question had just driven past an under-construction building that had collapsed near Himachal Pradesh’s High Court in Shimla. “Why must you further congest an already congested town?” he added. Through the course of the next couple of hours, abandoning other plans, we moved back and forth on Shimla’s Cart Road and finally focused on the stretch between the old bus stand and Himachal tourism’s Hotel Holiday Home. He went on: “Here is your solution. Put a bridge from below the gurdwara to below the tourism hotel. Pedestrianise everything in-between. In the space created, have parks, homes, shopping.” All excited, he continued in the same vein about the endless possibilities that could come about. (For someone not familiar with the place, this bridge, if built, would eliminate traffic from the core of Shimla).
While the basic idea could do with some more thought, he obviously knew what he was talking about, as he had been a part of the team which had built the Millau Viaduct in France. For a long time, this held the record for being the tallest bridge in the world. That was not all; this multi-span cable bridge, apart from being an outstanding engineering feat, is designed to cast a minimal possible shadow. With high-speed traffic moving overhead, the valley below still retains its rural character. Duly impressed, and having had both fire and wheel explained, off one went to have a word on this with the Powers That Be. The Powers listened. The Powers proclaimed it to be a brilliant idea. Then the Powers forgot all about it.
Much of the extraordinary character of the Himalaya, its forests, villages and towns is slowly being eroded by two behemoths — climate change and supposed development. That is not to say that ‘development’ is not required. Of course, it is. Many aspects of life in the hills are far better now than they were even a couple of decades back — access has improved, water and electricity have made life easier, and even if this leaves much to be desired, basic education and healthcare have come along. What is disturbing is the sheer size and greed of the development avatar that we worship. Off the record — and for ethical reasons, they shall remain unnamed — many of the aforesaid Powers have said the same thing: “It’s about money and votes.” Segments of the same Powers, those with a modicum of conscience, have also admitted that these two beasts, ‘money and votes’, feed from the same trough. Combined, they make a sizeable pair of elephants in the room.
The aforesaid Cart Road, which could have had another role, remains as congested as ever. Further down the hill, a four-lane highway zips one up the hill. As one approaches the town, one enters a traffic funnel and may well spend hours inching forward. All this seems to be a little ironical as the man to whom we owe the understanding of traffic movement and its impact on human life was born in Shimla.
In the early 20th century, WE Buchanan was the municipal engineer of Shimla. He held this position for several years, and much of the efficiency of the town’s water supply was attributed to his capability and diligence. Buchanan had significant local standing, but the extraordinary legacy of the family was to come from his son, who was born on August 22, 1907, while they lived in a house named Marl Bank near Chhota Shimla.
The son, Colin, went on the write a document titled ‘Traffic in Towns (The Buchanan Report of 1963)’. For the first time since the invention of the automobile, the report presented the whole picture of how transport and cities were inter-related. In a simple and readable manner, Sir Colin Buchanan’s document showed how economic growth could be accommodated and greater mobility provided. The report was widely circulated and while giving its author worldwide fame, also established the benchmarks with which traffic could be handled with efficiency. This ‘holy text’ of sorts was subsequently edited and abridged, and was published by Penguin. A bit of a surprise to both author and publisher, it became an international bestseller.
Traffic, for Buchanan, was “the monster we love”. His argument was that the existing towns and cities have a finite physical capacity. This was based on the character of a town and the buildings and spaces within it that would allow motor vehicles. In the context of the town of his birth, Shimla, one could add historicity and terrain. Access, in this case, could be achieved, but at an enormous cost. This cost would be financial and would result in a loss of the town’s character and buildings — as witnessed not only in Shimla, but practically every historical town of our country.
Buchanan remains one of the world’s great thinkers and planners of townscapes — and he did not advocate comprehensive redevelopment to favour motor vehicles. For him, the quality of a town was defined by the quality of its public realm, not by private spaces.
— The writer is an author based in Shimla
Features
