ONE is not completely sure why precisely the otherwise highly intelligent human race is constantly anxious to save time. The compulsion has metamorphosed into technological advance that squeezes time into ever-shorter spells. Travel is no longer about sights and sounds, echoes of the past and conversations about the present, shifts of culture, the music of languages, or knowledge gained at the gentle pace of experience.
The journey is now barren, as highways replace the road. There may be some rational point in shortening a flight, for in the sky you are trapped beside an indifferent passenger; but you may have noticed that nothing has happened in decades to make aeroplanes faster. But the road is being continuously shortened by pace. The magna-speed expressway is now high on the list of Good Things That Must Happen.
What do we do with the time we have saved? Waste it in the lobby of a hotel? Add ulcer hours to office routine? Potter about making non-conversation with family? Somewhere during the car ride between Delhi and Lucknow there was a Eureka moment. Spend time on useless thoughts. Let the mind wander through the maze of useless thoughts. There is so much to learn from nothing.
Highway tourism
My reason for taking the Yamuna Expressway from Delhi to Lucknow was prosaic. I wanted to do some highway tourism; to find out more about this much-touted miracle route which had reduced nearly 600 kilometres to six or seven hours, depending upon whom you had met. However, there is a God of the Road with a definitive answer. Bhagwan Google said seven hours and 14 minutes with divine precision.
We dipped into Lucknow in six-and-ahalf, including a pit stop for coffee. But God was right. About 45 minutes went into a very Indian kind of obstacle race. The impediments on the way to Clarks Hotel in the centre of Lucknow were myriad citizens, multifarious vehicles, an antique road structure, the occasional policeman seriously engaged on his mobile phone, and the spirited strife of politics.
The great highway was spectacular, soulless, silent, and ambitious. A sign on the bar over the road proclaimed the defining fact of the experience: ‘You are under surveillance.’ A trifle menacing, but well-meant. But surveillance by hidden cameras has all sorts of subliminal implications. Fear breeds unpredictable reactions. No tickling one’s nose, then. Who knows which secret picture will end up on social media?
Wise to be careful
Near Mathura came another warning: ‘Fog Ahead.’ All I could see was a very light mist. Perhaps this was the corpse of a fog and some computer had forgotten to switch off the admonition. Still, on such a speed-monster highway it is wise to be careful even in the light of a midday sun. The architects of this expressway had certainly been sensible. When the elevation became lowered, the height of the cattle fences rose. We saw only one animal on the long journey, a brown dog that sauntered through the cars.
Two hours into the smooth and imperceptibly swift ride a message appeared, apropos of nothing: ‘Kolkata 1286 km. Agra 50’. The distance to Agra was useful. Kolkata was a measure of ambition. The living green of western Uttar Pradesh made way for the verdant colours of Etawah. This is the silence in which the government of India for the next five years will be elected within a few weeks.
The silence evaporated in Lucknow. Banners were louder than the anxious hum of a capital city. Saffron was getting some competition from the Congress tricolour and large cut-outs of Rahul Gandhi, mostly alone and sometimes in the company of his sister Priyanka.
Management theory
It was the day of a public meeting by Rahul Gandhi, in Lucknow on his revival mission, peppering a mundane speech with a few remarks about non-political celebrities to claim space in the headlines. I saw a newspaper report later in the day, quoting a Congress spokesperson as saying that while Sonia Gandhi had left the nearby Raebareli Lok Sabha constituency for Rajya Sabha, Raebareli would remain with the family. Come to think of it, the whole party is going to remain with the family. Management students are taught the theory of revival through a J Curve.
The first stage is a plateau, when nothing happens. Then you must leap over the cliff, cross the valley pursued by the shadow of despair and reach the base of the next hill, which you climb towards a second summit. Judging by the mood of the Uttar Pradesh voter, Congress is still on the plateau.
