Navigating smog and devotion on the road

A trip to the hills has become easier with multiple lanes and smooth highways, yet the ease is interrupted by the persistent haze and the spectacle of young men dancing along the way

In late October, just after Bijoya Dasami (known as Dussehra in North India), I drove from Delhi to Corbett. I have driven that route countless times over the last 15 years, often carrying on into the hills. So, I know the road conditions across seasons.

In several respects, the 275 km drive from Delhi to Ramnagar has become far less strenuous. The road quality is excellent in most parts, with multiple lanes and smooth surfaces. The completion of multiple bypasses has reduced the delays involved in navigating congested small towns. The expressway into and out of Delhi has enormously cut down on stress and driving time by untangling what used to be a 24x7 traffic jam on the 20 km stretch from Ghaziabad to the Nizamuddin Bridge. There are more eateries with decent restrooms along the route, easing pressure on the bladder. Travellers do pay toll at multiple points, but even that is less painful with FASTags.

The pain has, however, become more acute in two respects. Every so often, the highway was clogged by truckloads of young men with mikes blaring loud devotional music. These devotees are a law unto themselves, neither paying toll, nor letting travellers move at normal pace. The trucks move very slowly, holding up traffic as the boys disembark to dance on the highway.

The other issue: Smoke. All the way to Ramnagar, there was stubble burning across Western UP. The Air Quality Index (AQI) in Delhi was poor in October, but it was markedly worse along the road to Ramnagar. Delhi receives its smoke second-hand from burnt stubble; the smoke rising off the fields of Western UP was “first-hand”, enveloping the highway.

Just before Christmas, I headed up to Kumaon again, driving an extra 100-odd km into the hills. Once again, there was smoke everywhere, all the way to Kathgodam (which is at an elevation of 500 metres). Beyond that, as the road climbed, the smoke eased off. But even so, the AQI was poor until we were at least 1,000 metres up. Even in the foothills, there were odd pockets of smoke — which is terrifying, given the possibility of forest fires.

It was the same story on the way back, with smoke building up as we descended to the plains. It actually got better as we entered the NCR, although Delhi is in the “severe” category at the moment. And, yes, there were multitudes of young men celebrating Purnima, or some obscure festival, or perhaps rehearsing for an upcoming festival.

Poor air quality is something every industrial society has had to deal with. London’s famous “peasoupers” were smog. Other great cities like New York and Hamburg had similar issues through the mid-19th century (long before internal combustion vehicles) until well into the 1960s. Those were mostly caused by a combination of wood and coal fires.

North India is unusual in that the smog is largely caused by farmers burning stubble. The bans imposed on construction and vehicles when air quality becomes abysmal are essentially useless. They don’t really help improve air quality. The bans are merely signs that the political establishment is “doing something”.

Other parts of India are less affected by stubble burning, partly due to differences in dietary habits. Farmers in the East and South keep ducks, goats and chicken, which eat stubble and thus process it into something palatable for human beings.  But beyond that, the lower AQI elsewhere also signals civil society has evolved to a degree. Poor AQI from stubble burning would be a much bigger political issue in Tamil Nadu, Telangana, West Bengal or Maharashtra.

The ideal organic solution would be to encourage farmers in North India to keep fowl, or other livestock. Failing that, there are other solutions, such as setting up power plants using biomass feed. But the political establishment would attempt to implement these only if there was enough noise from civil society. Similarly, there would be fewer young men dancing on the roads if the unemployment data was better, but that, of course, is an issue that goes a long way beyond the ambit of civil society.