Some years ago, when the Duke of Edinburgh encountered a loose wire hanging off one of the walls of Buckingham Palace, he inquired if an Indian had done the electrical job. His innocent enquiry caused a stir among Indians in Britain, many of whom were not even electricians. The Duke’s words had hurt. Not because they were slanderous, but because they succinctly summed up the truth about a cultural trait. Half-baked, Incomplete, Inconvenience Regretted — are phrases that have sunk into Indian consciousness. And left us with a gnawing belief that in matters of urban skills and their realisation, the Indian is neither capable of attempting ordinary tasks nor completing them satisfactorily. The Duke need only visit an Indian airport to know that his inquiry was not misplaced.

For years, poor quality and indifferent workmanship was reason enough to buy ‘foreign’. Part of the mistrust was doubtlessly related to the Indian ability to happily reproduce second rate clones of foreign ideas; part was however related to the belief that people of culture and religion were not expected to be materially advanced or technically progressive. It is an idea that has percolated to all levels of the visible man-made landscape. From flyovers that are over designed, to trains that are antiquated, to airports that are inefficient, to road systems that breed chaos, to hospitals signs that mislead, it takes a mere glance out of a car window to reinforce the idea of India as a perennially incomplete and visibly incoherent environment. Is it a surprise, then, to see the expression of utter disbelief on first-time riders in the Delhi Metro? How can a public work of such finesse be accomplished here?

... contd.