By Philip Burrett
I have had the privilege of living in Dehradun for the past 40 years. I marched on the streets demanding statehood in the 1990s, did rescue work in Uttarkashi after the ‘93 earthquake and the Kedarnath floods in 2013 and travelled to almost every hill station in the state. I have seen the town of Dehradun grow from a quaint, sylvan town to an unbearable mess when it comes to construction and traffic.
Let us leave the emergence of multi-story apartment blocks in where handsome colonial bungalows once stood amongst litchee groves, let’s leave out for the moment the cutting down of thousands of trees only to make roads that bring in the wrong type of tourists – even though these two issues warrant serious and immediate action and redressal.
What pains me today is what I see every summer when this state is invaded by tourists, and not any type of tourist (because there are many who abide by the rules, dispose of their waste correctly and maintain the decorum one expects from educated folk) – it’s the people who blast music, stick their heads out of sun roofs, throw empty beer cans out of SUV windows and are drunk or high on other substances and who jeopardise the lives of the locals and innocent residents who must be wondering if these hooligans from the plains belong to some other country.
After all, a large chunk of state revenue and the livelihood of many depends on these hordes that drive up annually and I have nothing against tourism per se.
What appalls me is the traffic jams on roads leading up to the hill stations, the char dham routes and the inability of the civil authorities and state planners to anticipate the problems – fire- fighting all the time in the belief that this will only last till the rains arrive is like the ostrich with its head in the sand.
Instagram is filled with clips of road accidents, hit and run tourist drivers (they don’t stop when they have knocked someone down), locals chasing down drunken drivers, policemen arguing with louts in fancy cars bearing number plates from neighbouring states.
Is there no way of anticipating the mammoth influx of tourists to the state, can nothing be done about drunk driving, is it fair that we local citizens are held hostage each summer and afraid to venture out of our houses lest we be run over by people who are out to have a good time at the expense of our safety and equanimity?
Many citizens complain of not leaving their homes even on a long weekend, when a mini influx occurs and when roads are choaked by DL, Pun, JR, Raj and UK taxi number plated vehicles.
I’m not expecting the land to be as quiet as it once was when the Covid lockdown kept us house bound; when we could hear the birds and savour the silence that prevailed – no, we need tourists but we need stringent laws, travel quotas and restrictions on how many tourists may travel to these hill stations. We need severe fines, and sentences for the wrong type of tourists who are often out to antagonise and intimidate us locals.
Just go ask locals around Purkul, Bhagwanpur and Sinola what happens at night when our visitors from the heated plains drive around looking for fun.
I realise that our law enforcement officials just cannot handle the scale of this influx. These officers are often threatened with, ‘here speak to my uncle’ (or some powerful relation with connections who can fix anything). Some may even make some pocket money by letting these miscreants off on a tacit quid pro quo basis.
I’m waiting for two things to happen:
First, for the rains to come pouring down so that the crowds from afar leave Uttarakhand in peace.
Secondly, for the law enforcement officers to take more seriously drivers using cellphones, driving under the influence and driving on the wrong side of the road – I am sure the state exchequer will make a lot more money than it does on stopping helmetless bikers.
(The author is an educationist, mentor, trainer, Ex-Deputy Headmaster, The Doon School.)
