The idea of a ‘futuristic city’ often leads people to conjure up fanciful visions of humongous buildings, roads wide enough for aeroplanes to land on them, no traffic jams or chaos of any sort: The city of the future lacks all the problems of the present; everything is neat, orderly and cutting-edge.
It is possibly a century’s worth of stereotypical, often pulpy science fiction that may have planted this idea in our heads, but this notion of ‘futurism’ is quite rampant among politicians and bureaucrats too, even in India. That’s why we receive promises (some might call them ‘threats’), of converting various Indian cities into another Singapore or Dubai or something equally ludicrous. And when those in charge of planning a city become too powerful, these visions become reality. There are cities full of buildings that are barely occupied, with great roads that hardly have anyone them and stadiums in which nobody plays. We have seen this play out in Pyongyang, most oil-rich Middle Eastern cities and all over Central Asia. The planners who call the shots give us cities that they claim are for the future, but are about as well suited to it as the ruins of Ozymandias.
No. That is not what we want to see in the Bengaluru of the future. The growth of this city doesn’t lie in expensive infrastructure – not in steel flyovers or fancy pod taxis and certainly not in skyscrapers. Bengaluru’s future lies in its people.
A city’s future, after all, is not determined by what people do at work in their offices. Neither it is determined by what people do in their homes. A city's future always boils down to what people do in the third place, one that exists in between. Spaces that are inclusive and accessible to all, spaces that encourage conversation and nurture culture. Places where people can walk, loiter even, safely and at all times. Places where people can sit and talk and exchange ideas. Places beyond our workplaces and our families, where people can contribute to society. And if the powers that be in Bengaluru fail to do enough to create these sorts of public spaces, logo or no logo, the future is bleak. Having events that celebrate the city is fine, but if one fails to do enough to create vibrant public spaces in the city, don’t be surprised if this same Bengaluru Habba morphs into something crass and commercial like the Dubai Shopping Festival.
It isn't easy to create these vibrant public spaces overnight. It takes time and a great deal of consistent effort on the part of the city's administrators. They can take the first steps though. People need to be out on the roads and two challenges stand in the way. One, Bengaluru’s air quality is fast dropping, a problem that needs to be stemmed before we become another Delhi. Second, they need to feel safe when they’re out on the roads. No city’s culture, after all, has been determined by people zooming around in cars.
Our vision for Bengaluru, therefore, is a simple one. Give pedestrians primacy on every road: Their health and safety are top priorities. Let a footpath culture emerge and we will soon see it pour into other public spaces in the city.
