From The Times Of India
March 29, 2011
For the good part of two decades, Rabindra Nath has gone against the tide. A punctual government employee with a life more prosaic than the name suggests, Nath boards the Gede local every morning from Bidhannagar to report for work. It's a three-hour journey one way, yet Nath is lucky to have beaten the mad scramble in the opposite direction. Every day, Nath watches with exasperation, and sometimes trepidation, the waves of commuters that dash onto the Sealdah shores and retreat at night, only to return in another tidal surge the next day. "For more than half a century, Kolkata has been mercilessly battered by a human tsunami every day. Why wouldn't it look pale and haggard?" asks Nath.
His words spell out possibly the biggest urban challenge before the new state government decentralization and decongestion of Kolkata. It's also a reminder to those promising a London-like cosmetic surgery on the city that the beauty treatment must begin with the fringes and districts, with more roads, public facilities, and residential and office space woven into the couture gown.
As the train rolls into Barrackpore, the British-era cantonment town, it evokes a comparison with Mumbai. "Mumbai has Andheri, Dadar, Sion, Santa Cruz and Vashi. The suburbs are as developed as the main city. What Andheri is to Mumbai, Barrackpore should've been to Kolkata. Vashi, which will now have an international airport, is actually farther from Mumbai than Kalyani is from Kolkata."
But Kalyani, which the train reaches a good 45 minutes later, is living in the '70s, when it was developed as a support city. For Kolkata's vast and populous northern suburbs, development has been a word bandied around during polls and then forgotten. So, while Mumbai's trendy "burbs" continue to march on, their Kolkata cousins bear the mofussil' stigma.
Playing Catch-up
"My journey to office every day is like looking at a kaleidoscope," says Nath. The unfolding landscape says why. Till Barrackpore, or Greater Kolkata, it's modern buildings, housing condos and shopping malls. But scratch the surface and the rust shows up. The Belgharia-Sodepur-Barrackpore stretch is the choice suburban destination, but civic infrastructure is woefully inadequate. "For the last year, the municipality is struggling without a proper garbage disposal system," says Subir Sinha, a Sodepur resident accompanying his son to Kalyani University.
"Development has centred around residential property. Why can't IT parks be set up here?" asks Basabi De, a schoolteacher. "We want the new regime to bring more commerce to the suburbs; some big offices can be relocated too once the Metro service begins."
Beyond Barrackpore, the picture changes dramatically. With the exception of the three major towns Naihati, Kalyani and Ranaghat this vast stretch right up to Gede, spanning nearly 20 railway stations and two districts, is a picture of neglect. Ichhapore, which hosts the rifle factory, Palta, where an air force base is located, and Kanchrapara, which has a railway workshop (and may see a coach factory come up if Mamata Banerjee's efforts are successful), have a semi-urban character but, beyond the government installations, they don't have much to offer.
Biting The Ballot
Those ubiquitous red flags, once lined up like sentries all the way to the Left citadels of North 24 Parganas and Nadia, seem to have deserted their posts. Without those badges of domination, the fortresses seem to have lost their imperviousness. As one commuer puts it: "The CPM is like the West Indies cricket team now, a fallen giant." It's the Congress that seems to be jostling with Trinamool for mindspace, even if it isn't for the right reasons. "Eta mahajot noi, mahajawt (It's not an alliance but a tangle)," an elderly man remarks sarcastically. "They'll fight among themselves and let the opponent win," he adds. But the general mood about the alliance is optimistic, if not overconfident. "Didi's time has come," another commuter remarks.
Bordertown
"Hey there, stop. What brings you here?" the BSF jawan shouts from his thatched roof bamboo post. The international border is a 15-minute walk from Gede station. On either side of the tracks, barbed wire fences mark the separation line between the two Banglas'. The jawan slips into conversation mode when this correspondent reveals his identity and purpose. "No violence here, sahab, the elections will be peaceful." His confidence stems from the BSF's remarkable success in winning the villagers' trust and cracking down on cross-border smuggling. "In the last year or so, border crimes have come down 90%. The smugglers are experts in breaching fences. It takes them exactly 55 seconds to cut through the three-layered fence. So, it was important to build local intelligence and rapport. We've done that successfully," says the jawan. Bengal's borders are in safe hands; and needs a trustworthy hand for its heart.
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/kolkata-/Poll-tracks-to-the-fringes/articleshow/7803298.cms
March 29, 2011
For the good part of two decades, Rabindra Nath has gone against the tide. A punctual government employee with a life more prosaic than the name suggests, Nath boards the Gede local every morning from Bidhannagar to report for work. It's a three-hour journey one way, yet Nath is lucky to have beaten the mad scramble in the opposite direction. Every day, Nath watches with exasperation, and sometimes trepidation, the waves of commuters that dash onto the Sealdah shores and retreat at night, only to return in another tidal surge the next day. "For more than half a century, Kolkata has been mercilessly battered by a human tsunami every day. Why wouldn't it look pale and haggard?" asks Nath.
His words spell out possibly the biggest urban challenge before the new state government decentralization and decongestion of Kolkata. It's also a reminder to those promising a London-like cosmetic surgery on the city that the beauty treatment must begin with the fringes and districts, with more roads, public facilities, and residential and office space woven into the couture gown.
As the train rolls into Barrackpore, the British-era cantonment town, it evokes a comparison with Mumbai. "Mumbai has Andheri, Dadar, Sion, Santa Cruz and Vashi. The suburbs are as developed as the main city. What Andheri is to Mumbai, Barrackpore should've been to Kolkata. Vashi, which will now have an international airport, is actually farther from Mumbai than Kalyani is from Kolkata."
But Kalyani, which the train reaches a good 45 minutes later, is living in the '70s, when it was developed as a support city. For Kolkata's vast and populous northern suburbs, development has been a word bandied around during polls and then forgotten. So, while Mumbai's trendy "burbs" continue to march on, their Kolkata cousins bear the mofussil' stigma.
Playing Catch-up
"My journey to office every day is like looking at a kaleidoscope," says Nath. The unfolding landscape says why. Till Barrackpore, or Greater Kolkata, it's modern buildings, housing condos and shopping malls. But scratch the surface and the rust shows up. The Belgharia-Sodepur-Barrackpore stretch is the choice suburban destination, but civic infrastructure is woefully inadequate. "For the last year, the municipality is struggling without a proper garbage disposal system," says Subir Sinha, a Sodepur resident accompanying his son to Kalyani University.
"Development has centred around residential property. Why can't IT parks be set up here?" asks Basabi De, a schoolteacher. "We want the new regime to bring more commerce to the suburbs; some big offices can be relocated too once the Metro service begins."
Beyond Barrackpore, the picture changes dramatically. With the exception of the three major towns Naihati, Kalyani and Ranaghat this vast stretch right up to Gede, spanning nearly 20 railway stations and two districts, is a picture of neglect. Ichhapore, which hosts the rifle factory, Palta, where an air force base is located, and Kanchrapara, which has a railway workshop (and may see a coach factory come up if Mamata Banerjee's efforts are successful), have a semi-urban character but, beyond the government installations, they don't have much to offer.
Biting The Ballot
Those ubiquitous red flags, once lined up like sentries all the way to the Left citadels of North 24 Parganas and Nadia, seem to have deserted their posts. Without those badges of domination, the fortresses seem to have lost their imperviousness. As one commuer puts it: "The CPM is like the West Indies cricket team now, a fallen giant." It's the Congress that seems to be jostling with Trinamool for mindspace, even if it isn't for the right reasons. "Eta mahajot noi, mahajawt (It's not an alliance but a tangle)," an elderly man remarks sarcastically. "They'll fight among themselves and let the opponent win," he adds. But the general mood about the alliance is optimistic, if not overconfident. "Didi's time has come," another commuter remarks.
Bordertown
"Hey there, stop. What brings you here?" the BSF jawan shouts from his thatched roof bamboo post. The international border is a 15-minute walk from Gede station. On either side of the tracks, barbed wire fences mark the separation line between the two Banglas'. The jawan slips into conversation mode when this correspondent reveals his identity and purpose. "No violence here, sahab, the elections will be peaceful." His confidence stems from the BSF's remarkable success in winning the villagers' trust and cracking down on cross-border smuggling. "In the last year or so, border crimes have come down 90%. The smugglers are experts in breaching fences. It takes them exactly 55 seconds to cut through the three-layered fence. So, it was important to build local intelligence and rapport. We've done that successfully," says the jawan. Bengal's borders are in safe hands; and needs a trustworthy hand for its heart.
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/kolkata-/Poll-tracks-to-the-fringes/articleshow/7803298.cms
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