The heavy rains in Bengaluru have laid bare the shoddy work done in the laying and maintenance of roads. A rickshaw driver claimed that driving on these roads would financially ruin him because the roads would damage his shock-absorbers and tyres and wreck havoc on the engine. Not only that, bad roads hamper the smooth flow of traffic which not only increases the time spent on the road and fuel consumption and pollution, but also decreases the quality of life. The same goes for the state of the drains, whether in Bengaluru, Mumbai, or almost every other city. No summer is complete without stories of the fragile power generation situation and of people dying of heat strokes just as no winter is complete without stories of cold-related deaths.
Jugaad and fatalism
There is a predictability and banality to all this. These events are like boxes that need to be ticked to acknowledge a particular Indian season. This national indifference may also be another face of the well-refined fatalism so prevalent here. As a consequence, outrage from citizens at the conditions that they have to live with is absent.
Not long ago, Bengaluru was deluged with articles about potholes. This led to the municipality claiming it had identified, counted and begun the process of resurfacing them. It goes without saying that a quick inspection of these potholes are in order after the recent rains. Resurfacing potholes is a very good case of jugaad , as is the annual drain-cleaning ritual.
The jugaadu system that we Indians are so proud of limits us because what is really a quick-fix Plan B becomes a Plan A. A Plan A is a well thought out scheme that incorporates and takes into consideration more than one aspect while looking at the immediate and long term. As a consequence, at most times Plan As are tough, requiring persistence and commitment.
Could our fatalism be that North Star that guides this inclination towards jugaad? Jugaad by providing a placebo in the form of a temporary fly-by-night reprieve calms us and prevents us from raising questions, answers to which could alter our fate. In the case of potholed roads, for instance, citizens are either immune to the problem caused, unaware of it, believe there is no solution, or believe that it is their fate to deal with such roads. Therefore, filling potholes is an accepted solution. There is no need to seek answers to questions like, can traffic be reduced, if not regulated? How are contracts being tendered for road laying and maintenance? Are there fines imposed on contractors for using bad quality material?
Jugaad and fatalism make for a heady cocktail that leads to inhibiting learning or enhancing the reluctance to latch on to what can be learned from how we respond to the weather and its impacts. Does fatalism also stave off the need for responsibility and accountability? If it does, it is denying us the privilege of seeking what is the best in us. This in turn suggests that we don’t have a high opinion of each other which ultimately prevents us from seeking, or even being the, change.
Samir Nazareth is the author of ‘1400 Bananas, 76 Towns & 1 Million People’
