ODD EVEN ON AN EVEN DAY

JIWAN RAI

Evading traffic stagnation leads to another form of stagnation

 The Odd-Even vehicle rule is odd for several reasons. Firstly, it's surprising how the majority of people have accepted it despite such a rule is seldom implemented permanently elsewhere under normal circumstances. Typically, such strategies are temporary measures taken in emergency situations. Oddly, it is implemented as a permanent solution to the Gangtok traffic problem. Secondly, it’s odd because it appears to be working. Thirdly, it's odd that an administration, which utterly lacks a long-term vision for smart solutions, is being applauded for such a random decision. However, for me, this rule has made life incredibly difficult. I find myself as the odd man out, prioritizing my personal comfort over the greater good. Here is my odd story.

My day started on an odd note on an even day (a day with an even-numbered date). I had to travel to Rumtek in the morning for urgent work—a task so specific that no one else could fill in for me. Unfortunately, my vehicle, which has an odd number (any vehicle with an odd last digit is considered an odd-numbered vehicle), was not possible to use. I ended up borrowing a car from a family friend. (Interestingly, this family had intentionally chosen an even-numbered car during the COVID pandemic when such a rule was first implemented, allowing us to use our cars alternately).

I returned home around 1:30 in the afternoon- exhausted due to the hurried travel and yet excited due to a wedding we had to attend. It was my cousin's wedding in Sichay (near the District Administrative Office). Although we were invited at 11:30 in the morning, I decided to go later due to the reasons mentioned earlier. There is a window period between 1-3 in the afternoon when odd-numbered vehicles are allowed on even days, and vice versa. We decided to use this window to sneak out in our odd-numbered car – like smart rule-dodgers. Naturally, we were dressed to the nines for the wedding. The thought of hiring a taxi while dressed so extravagantly seemed far too odd, even for someone like me. Even I, odd as I am, have my limits.

Getting dressed up is time-consuming, and time was running out. At 2:24, we pulled out of our parking spot onto the highway with time ticking away. Near Krishi Bhawan, we discover to our shock that the Indira Bypass Road was temporarily closed for repairs. Making it to the Ranka Taxi Stand before 3 was an impossibility. My wife, who was driving, had no option but to risk making a U-turn. Thankfully, the traffic eased a bit just then. We headed down towards Ranipool, hoping to get off the highway before 3 at the Mayfair turn. As we maneuvered through slow-moving traffic, we inched closer to our much-coveted destination – the Mayfair turning – before 3. Who needs thrillers when life in Sikkim offers such edge-of-your-seat drama? Can you believe it? Our car literally crossed the Mayfair turning at 2:58! Look at the screen shot of our car at the turning at that crucial time.

We then continued towards Sichhay via the Adampool Road. This alternative route, built around seven years ago to ease Gangtok's traffic, is a blessing. A wide road along the riverbanks—Gangtok’s own marine drive! But the road's condition dampens any poetic feeling so hopelessly that one might feel like cursing the road department with vehemence. The potholes are so numerous and large that even Toyota's shock absorbers can't handle them. It was a special spine-jangling adventure! Horse riding would have felt smoother! What colossal mismanagement of such prime public property! I thought about the damage vehicles sustain and the discomfort passengers feel. But aren't we used to a bumpy ride anyway? In fact, a smooth ride feels uncomfortable to the Sikkimese. I felt self-congratulatory and saluted ourselves for our collective ability to endure such chaos with a shrug.

Despite the challenges, it was worth the effort. The wedding itself was delightful—more than a refreshing change from my vehicular woes. Celebrating the couple, touching base with relatives and long lost friends, and marvelling at how much we have all aged was worth every pothole. Seeing the younger generation grow up, while we inch closer to senior citizen discounts, provided ample food for thought apart from the extravagant wedding food for the body!

But the joy was short-lived. Just as we exited the wedding hall at 5:30 PM, the odd-even rules resumed their reign of terror. We couldn’t take the highway until 6. Back to the Adampool road we went, because who doesn’t love more pothole therapy after such a gluttonous adventure as a wedding feast? By the time we finally reached home, it felt like we’d returned from a week-long survival camp. Exhausted but triumphant! We embrace the odd-even chaos that defines our lives so graciously. Life is indeed odd even in the capital city of Gangtok. At this point, relocating to rural Sikkim seems like the only way to restore some evenness to life.

“The potholes are so numerous and large that even Toyota's shock absorbers can't handle them. It was a special spine-jangling adventure! Horse riding would have felt smoother! What colossal mismanagement of such prime public property! I thought about the damage vehicles sustain and the discomfort passengers feel. But aren't we used to a bumpy ride anyway? In fact, a smooth ride feels uncomfortable to the Sikkimese. I felt self-congratulatory and saluted ourselves for our collective ability to endure such chaos with a shrug.”

(Views are personal. Email: jiwanr@gmail.com)