<p>Elevation. That is such an uplifting thought! Trapped in the mundane chaos of the daily ground-zero grind, it spells vertical escape in a 90-degree capsule. So much like an upset MLA fashioning his fate with a designer rebellion. He does so for an elevating cause: A shifty party-hop and a push-up from a grounded MLA to a stately Minister.</p>.<p>But once up there, the democrat in him shows up. Obsessed with equality, he wants his peers, his kith and kin, his near and dear, to be one level up. He would still be two levels up, but why let them down in old-fashioned traffic? So, he conjures up an elevated escape route, the flyover.</p>.<p>Nothing beats the flyover in its hierarchical clarity. Level zero for rickety public transport, and the walkers on their ‘pedestrian’ footpaths. Level one for privacy, for the car czars and SUVs in their breezy flights. Level two for the elevated, the stately master class, the closest to divinity.</p>.<p>On the exalted, elevated corridors of power, they call it the ultimate infra fix. They sell it like it’s the next best thing to a chopper ride, an almost perfect aerial bypass. Oh, don’t you worry about the realists, the public, the green brigade. Just don’t pay heed when they tell you it would all go for a toss.</p>.<p>So troublesome, those realists! They tell you not to forget the ‘public’ in the republic, not to take one step without public support. As if flyovers rest on public support. Take a leaf out of their own trees and tell them this: Those pillars are our support, and we have no fear, we have our piers.</p>.<p>Is the next jam just a flyover away? Does the infra fix function just to shift congestion from one junction to the next? Now, that’s not funny. Seriously, don’t let their sustainable mobility talk dilute your glorious upward mobility. Do not fall for it. Such a downright infra dig!</p>.<p>They ought to know, time is money. And it is time to make money. From high up there, don’t let the smallness of their imagination distract you. Get onto the fast lane, accelerate, beat the rush. Descending, don’t let the jam defeat you. Be assured, the next connecting flyover is on its way. The prospect of it is already taking shape in your mind.</p>.<p>Bigger, longer, flashier, the elevated corridors of tomorrow will outshine the flyovers of today. Development in his veins, the Minister won’t let you down. Trust his DNA. Bid goodbye to your tier 2 city plans, smell the coffee with those next-gen, three-tiered concrete wonders. Fine, if you insist, paint them green. Those realists, they would be pleased!</p>.<p>They see through your tricks? Don’t you worry. Tell them straight, “Don’t you see, those corridors, those concrete freeways of devilish speeds will get you to the rural greens, the suburban lawns, all in a flash. Beyond the freeways, you can breathe fresh air!”</p>.<p>Tell them this, as you zoom past their rickety buses. Confuse them with ‘we are the bridge, we are the future,’ divide them, and rule them!</p>
<p>Elevation. That is such an uplifting thought! Trapped in the mundane chaos of the daily ground-zero grind, it spells vertical escape in a 90-degree capsule. So much like an upset MLA fashioning his fate with a designer rebellion. He does so for an elevating cause: A shifty party-hop and a push-up from a grounded MLA to a stately Minister.</p>.<p>But once up there, the democrat in him shows up. Obsessed with equality, he wants his peers, his kith and kin, his near and dear, to be one level up. He would still be two levels up, but why let them down in old-fashioned traffic? So, he conjures up an elevated escape route, the flyover.</p>.<p>Nothing beats the flyover in its hierarchical clarity. Level zero for rickety public transport, and the walkers on their ‘pedestrian’ footpaths. Level one for privacy, for the car czars and SUVs in their breezy flights. Level two for the elevated, the stately master class, the closest to divinity.</p>.<p>On the exalted, elevated corridors of power, they call it the ultimate infra fix. They sell it like it’s the next best thing to a chopper ride, an almost perfect aerial bypass. Oh, don’t you worry about the realists, the public, the green brigade. Just don’t pay heed when they tell you it would all go for a toss.</p>.<p>So troublesome, those realists! They tell you not to forget the ‘public’ in the republic, not to take one step without public support. As if flyovers rest on public support. Take a leaf out of their own trees and tell them this: Those pillars are our support, and we have no fear, we have our piers.</p>.<p>Is the next jam just a flyover away? Does the infra fix function just to shift congestion from one junction to the next? Now, that’s not funny. Seriously, don’t let their sustainable mobility talk dilute your glorious upward mobility. Do not fall for it. Such a downright infra dig!</p>.<p>They ought to know, time is money. And it is time to make money. From high up there, don’t let the smallness of their imagination distract you. Get onto the fast lane, accelerate, beat the rush. Descending, don’t let the jam defeat you. Be assured, the next connecting flyover is on its way. The prospect of it is already taking shape in your mind.</p>.<p>Bigger, longer, flashier, the elevated corridors of tomorrow will outshine the flyovers of today. Development in his veins, the Minister won’t let you down. Trust his DNA. Bid goodbye to your tier 2 city plans, smell the coffee with those next-gen, three-tiered concrete wonders. Fine, if you insist, paint them green. Those realists, they would be pleased!</p>.<p>They see through your tricks? Don’t you worry. Tell them straight, “Don’t you see, those corridors, those concrete freeways of devilish speeds will get you to the rural greens, the suburban lawns, all in a flash. Beyond the freeways, you can breathe fresh air!”</p>.<p>Tell them this, as you zoom past their rickety buses. Confuse them with ‘we are the bridge, we are the future,’ divide them, and rule them!</p>