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Cutting through a frozen barrier
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fifty fifty
PROFILE: Balbir Singh (Sr)
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Cutting through a frozen barrier AS road tunnels go, the one being constructed to bypass the 13,000-foot-high snow-bound Rohtang Pass in Himachal to provide all-weather access to the Northern Sector has immense strategic and socio-economic implications.
Situated off National Highway 21 at an altitude of about 10,000 feet, the Rohtang Tunnel, scheduled for completion in February 2015, would connect the Kullu Valley with Lahaul and Spiti in Himachal Pradesh, and thereon with Ladakh in Jammu and Kashmir. The route from Kullu to Lahaul and Spiti is over the Rohtang Pass, but it remains closed for more than six months a year due to snow and high-velocity winds. The tunnel would reduce the distance between Manali and Keylong by 48 km. At 8.8 km, the Rohtang Tunnel will not be the longest tunnel in India. However, its claim to fame is that it would be the world’s longest road tunnel at that altitude. The nearest comparison would be the 5-km Anzob Road Tunnel in Tajikistan, which lies at a slightly higher altitude. Access to Kargil and Ladakh in J&K lies through two axes. The first is via National Highway 1-A, from Jammu to Srinagar, and then towards Kargil through the Zojila Pass. The other lies via Manali, on the road on which the tunnel is, moving towards Leh and then on to Batalik and Dras. In winters, the Zojila Pass is also closed. While strategic reserves are maintained by the armed forces, capable of sustaining troops for months, it is the Air Force that maintains the vital link in winters — airlifting rations, equipment, emergency supplies, as well as ferrying troops in and out of the two sectors. It was after the 1999 Kargil conflict that the strategic significance of having an all-weather link to remote areas came in focus. New roads were planned and existing routes were identified for upgrade. The highway connecting Srinagar and Leh is being four-laned, which would enhance logistic capability in that sector. The Army’s vision also called for several new tunnels at chokepoints. The construction of border roads, however, has not picked pace as intended, with several administrative, legal and technical factors contributing to delays and cost overruns. The total cost of the Rohtang project is estimated at Rs 1,700 crore. 30 years in making The construction of the Rohtang Tunnel was first conceived in 1983 to develop the Manali-Sarchu-Leh road as an all-weather alternative. A preliminary study was conducted in 1984 in consultation with the Geological Survey of India and the Snow and Avalanche Studies Establishment. The detailed feasibility study for the project was approved by the Border Roads Development Board on January 14, 1987. RITES conducted the feasibility study and submitted a report in June 1994 and Phase II report in December 1996. A high-level technical committee visited the site in August 2001 to revalidate the alignment suggested by RITES. Finally, in 2003 RITES recommended an 8.802 km tunnel. In 2007, tender documents were issued and the contract for consultancy and certain works awarded to Strabag Afcons, an Austrian joint venture company, on September 24, 2009. First an access road leading to the tunnel site was constructed. The length of this road from the tunnel’s south portal towards Manali is 14.84 km, and about a kilometre at the north portal, joining the Manali-Sarchu road, ahead of the Rohtang Pass. In view of the strategic importance of the tunnel, the Border Roads Organisation (BRO) raised a new formation — Headquarters, Chief Engineer, Rohtang Tunnel Project, in March 2010 — at Solang, with PK Mahajan as its first chief and 759 Border Roads (Independent) Task Force placed under it. Its main responsibility is construction of the 8.8 km long tunnel and 16 avalanche control structures on south and north portals. The foundation stone for the tunnel was laid by National Advisory Council chairperson Sonia Gandhi on June 28, 2010. About 1,900 m has been bored from the south portal and 925 m from the north portal since. About 30 per cent of the boring work had been completed till the first week of July 2012. There has been some delay due to unexpected ingress of water, with about 30 lakh litres flowing in daily. This called for additional works, such as chemical grouting and implanting rock bolts to stabilise the overhead rock face and seal off the water inflow. BRO at it 24x7 Work carries on 24 hours a day, seven days a week, with the Border Roads Organisation’s (BRO’s) manpower of 35 officers, 80 junior engineers and subordinate staff, and about 500 workers rotating in shifts. Specially equipped barracks as well as medical facilities with heating have come up adjacent to the work site. Since the north portal remains inaccessible during winters, excavation in those months would be undertaken only from the south portal. Only about one-fourth of the tunnel would be bored from the north. While the BRO has vast experience and expertise in boring tunnels and undertaking road construction in hostile terrain and climatic conditions, weather remains the biggest challenge, especially during winters. Snowfall and blocking of roads may not affect the boring process deep inside the mountain, but would hold up the excavation and dumping of soil and rock, as well as the logistic supplies. The BRO thus has to ensure roads remain clear throughout winters. An array of snow cutters and other equipment has been deployed for this. Nationally, the BRO is responsible for carrying out snow-clearance operations on 95 different roads. At its maximum, the Rohtang Tunnel lies 6,000 feet under the mountain, because of which unexpected geological challenges cannot be ruled out. The area is also known for seismic activity and hot water springs. The recent ingress of water had not been foreseen in preliminary surveys. To cater to the varied rock and soil composition along the stretch, the BRO has adopted the “Austrian method of tunnelling”. The scope of work and amount of material and support structures to be used along the entire stretch is not pre-fixed. Instead, the situation is dynamic and depends upon the ground conditions as work progresses. In addition, avalanches also have to be catered for. There are 13 avalanche-prone sites on the 15 km of access roads. The Snow and Avalanche Studies Establishment, a DRDO laboratory specialising in the study of snow physics and avalanche forecast, has designed various measures to safeguard movement across the danger zones, including snow galleries, which are concrete box-like structures up to 130 m in length that enclose the road like a tunnel and deflect the tumbling snow mass away from the road. Other structures include snow nets and snow fences that prevent the snow from tumbling down the slopes or break its force. As the BRO inches ahead slowly but surely, it faces onerous challenges in keeping the schedule. Beyond its strategic significance — in enabling unhindered movement of troops and supplies from the hinterland to the northern frontier through the year — the tunnel will also open up new vistas of trade and tourism, as well as generate jobs for the people of Lahaul and Spiti, who remain confined to their habitats in winters. Largely dry and barren, this tribal district, which shares it borders with Tibet, is an important tourist destination owing to several Buddhist monasteries, trekking routes and remote mountain lakes.
ROHTANG: LONGER, HIGHER
10.96 km: Longest in India — Pir Panjal Railway Tunnel coming up at Banihal in J&K, part of the Jammu-Srinagar railway link. It is at a lower altitude,
an average of 5,250 feet.
57 km: Length of the Gotthard Base Railway Tunnel in the Swiss Alps.
16,000 feet: Altitude of the Fenghuoshan tunnel on the Qinghai-Tibet Railway.
Design innovation
The tunnel’s design is novel in several ways. Due to its length and the rarefied atmosphere at that altitude, it would incorporate a semi-transverse ventilation system, in which large fans would circulate air through the tunnel. Its horseshoe-shaped cross-section will be 11.25 m wide at the road level, with two-way traffic at speeds up to 80 kmph. Below the road surface would be an emergency escape channel and water drainage pipes.
The tunnel alone might not be enough to make the Manali-Keylong-Leh highway all-weather, as there are two more snowbound passes, Baralacha La and Thaglang La, along the way. To overcome these, the project envisages constructing a 292-km all-weather road, Nimu-Padam-Darcha, via the Shinkunla Pass, traversing the remote Zanskar region of J&K, estimated to cost an additional `286
crore.
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This above all
Always keep in mind that snakes never attack humans; they only act in self-defence when attacked by humans. You respect them, they will respect you. Our ancients had it right: they deified snakes and called them Nag Devtas (snake gods). Poet editor Amongst the monthly journals I receive is Poets International, edited by Mohammed Fakhruddin from Bangalore. Much of its selections of contributions sent by poets from different parts of the world are beyond my comprehension. I have not been able to come to terms with Zen or Haiku. But the latest issue of June 2012 has one by the Editor, which I found very moving: Stranded in a thick forest in dark night,/ Away from my city under skylight;/ Found myself walking all alone on road/ Except tense mind nothing I could afford;/ Darkness scared me, but my courage within/ Enriched my thoughts to face crisis, mind’s strain;/ Being helpless, yet while walking, at once/ Heard roaring machine sound at a distance;/ The sound reached on road gradually near me,/ It was an old bus which made me happy;/ Stretched my hand up helplessly to stop it/ For a life; the driver slowed down a bit;/ A hand from inside through window reached me,/ Caught the hand, stepped on footboard in jiffy;/ There was no door, but found it to my right,/ In moving bus, I entered with delight;/ Occupied the rarer seat beside a man/ Who lend his helping hand, like star of dawn!/ Lifted me up, in their wilderness at last,/ From the abyss where I found myself lost! Right cure Morris, an 82-year-old man, went to the doctor to get a physical. A few days later, the doctor saw Morris walking down the street with a gorgeous young woman on his arm. A couple of days later, the doctor spoke to Morris and said, ‘You’re really doing great, aren’t you?’ Morris replied, ‘Just doing what you said, Doc: Get a hot mamma and be cheerful’. The doctor said, ‘I didn’t say… I said, you’ve got a heart murmur; be careful!’ Medical expertise Medical Professor: If girl becomes unconscious, give her lip-lock to blow air in her lungs and keep on pressing her chest with both your hands. Any questions? Santa Singh: How to make her unconscious? Eye trouble A woman filed a case against a hospital stating that after treatment her husband lost interest in her. Doctor: We only corrected his eyesight and did nothing else. (Contributed by Vipin Buckshey, New Delhi)
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fifty fifty Kishwar desai
His cinema and that period represented a time when Indian women were wooed with charm and a smile. It was a time when women had hope and expectations of equality and respect. But India today is very different, as women now are routinely treated with aggression and all kinds of limitations are imposed upon them, both on and off screen.
This India has no room for a romantic hero in the Rajesh Khanna mould. The ‘superstar’ reigned when women were at least allowed the freedom of expressing their love. Girls would line up to kiss his car, to haunt the hotels he stayed in, to gather at the banks along the lake where he serenaded his lady love in yet another film. This was a slowly liberalising India, shaking off social shackles, taking faltering steps towards emancipation. India’s women were unafraid to show the world what they liked: their men gentle, their romance torrid — and their songs slow and dreamy. “Aradhana” expressed what every mother hoped for their daughters. That in every ‘janam’ they would meet a nice middle-class boy, who would sweep them off their feet. It was also a dream that their daughters shared. These were simple, attainable dreams. Or so they thought. Rajesh Khanna might have been an ego maniac off screen, but he was no different from the other international stars of the ’60s and the ’70s. The Beatles or even the Rolling Stones and, of course, the irrepressible Elvis Presley. These evoked the same passion as Rajesh Khanna did, even though they were connected more with music rather than cinema. But all over the world the young (and the old) were choosing the people they wanted as their icons and it was an interesting period because these ‘pop’ idols were all individualistic. They possessed a certain charisma, which is impossible to describe but which had zeitgeist. And if they became arrogant in the process or had strings of affairs, it was part of the myth-making process. They were larger than life and could steal hearts and break them. And yet, everyone continued to fall in love with them. Rajesh Khanna was particularly special. He appealed specifically to Indian women because he was the kind of man they wanted in their life. And what a strange package he was: short, almost plump, occasionally had acne, and wore these strange kurtas which became a rage. And yet, for middle-class Indian women he became their hero. Girls married his photograph because he was someone who would love and cherish them forever. He cared for his women no matter who they were, or how old they were. He was completely the opposite of the aggressive anti-hero today. For instance, Salman and Shah Rukh Khan are larger than life in the roles they play, but their female ‘lead’ is reduced to a mini-skirted, size-zero figure. This kind of cinema reinforces the insecurity of women both on and off screen. The trend continues where women are ‘packaged’, and love is no longer in the gallant mode. And this is only a sharp reflection of an India where the position of women has seriously deteriorated over the past forty years. Khanna played out his roles at a time when film directors such as Shakti Samanta and Hrishikesh Mukherjee had a social agenda in their films and an important aspect was that they respected women. It was also a time when we had a very strong woman Prime Minister, Indira Gandhi. And no matter how much we might critique her today — it was an era of hope and expectation for Indian women. I have no doubt that she would be perplexed and troubled that India, instead of becoming a land of equal opportunity, is now one of the most dangerous places in the world to be a woman in. It would have distressed her to know that there are diktats almost every day about what women can and cannot do. Or that we have a completely retrograde National Commission for Women chief in Mamata Sharma, who keeps coming up with bizarre pronouncements (and there seems to be no mechanism to remove her), and that gender equality appears very low on government priorities. In a country where all sorts of bans are being imposed on women — by the NCW, by khap panchayats, by police chiefs — and where men are resorting to violence to attain their love interest (including acid attacks), where is the role for a King of Romance? In order to woo, you must first respect and idealise the person you love. That no longer happens and this tragedy is reflected in Indian cinema. Subtlety has vanished and there is no point waiting for the ‘sapnon ki rani’. Today’s romance in cinema comprises the slash and burn philosophy, completely writing out the ‘feminine’ side that Rajesh Khanna represented. Our films today are macho, full of anger and shootouts. These are mostly boys’ films made for an increasingly patriarchal society. The arrival of the angry young man in Indian cinema after the cinematic demise of Rajesh Khanna also impacted the way Indian women would be treated, both on and off screen. Rajesh Khanna evoked softer values — like love, friendship, romance. And he pledged an eternal love. Somehow, the six-pack testosterone-driven Indian film heroes simply cannot deliver the same promise. And for Indian women, that will remain the biggest tragedy.
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AS is typical of Nelson Mandela, he spent his 94th birthday quietly, surrounded by family and a few friends. Mandela is probably the last of great leaders alive who straddled the 20th century like a colossus. As South Africans came together on his birthday to honour the man who symbolised the epic battle that ended the racist apartheid rule, it was apparent that the nation was at a critical crossroads again. Even as 12 million schoolchildren chanted “Happy Birthday” in choreographed unison across the country on July 18, Mandela must have felt far from happy. For, despite the hard-fought political freedom, the divide between the blacks and the whites, the poor and the rich remain, though 18 years have passed. In 1994, after the historic general elections that saw the transition of political power from the white minority to the black majority, Mandela became the country’s first democratically elected President. He had inherited a country deeply divided not just along racial lines, but on economic and social too. The disparities were stark when I travelled across South Africa to cover the 1994 elections that would forever change the face of the nation. Johannesburg was then the symbol of white supremacy with its glass and steel skyscrapers, sweeping highways and sprawling malls. North of the city lay leafy green suburbs with fabulous villas for “Whites only.” Miles after that lay Soweto (South-western township) meant for “Blacks only” that resembled the slums of Mumbai with its shanty towns and squalor. Crime was rampant and unemployment high. Forced habitat segregation was not the only issue. Despite being only 15 per cent of the population, the whites controlled 85 per cent of the arable land and all the mega-corporations that constituted South Africa’s flourishing industrial base. Hardly 1 per cent of the middle managers in the corporate sector were blacks. Per capita state spending on whites was eight times more than that on blacks. On the day the elections results were announced, I managed a rare double. Almost all journalists had flocked to the Carlton Hotel where the African National Congress (ANC) leaders, including Mandela, were to appear for a victory celebration. An aide of Mandela had tipped me off that the great leader would come later in the evening. So I took a chance and drove to Pretoria, an hour away, where I watched members of the National Party, that had ruled white South Africa for decades, tearfully lower its flag. The last white President, F.W. de Klerk, and most of the top party leaders wept openly as they spoke to me. I then raced back to Johannesburg to be just on time to watch Mandela do his famous victory jig at close quarters as the nation’s newly elected black leaders cheered him on. That one hour encapsulated a historic transition that paralleled India’s fight for Independence. Next morning, in a simple ceremony at the Union Building in Pretoria, which resembles New Delhi’s South and North Blocks, Mandela was sworn in as President. In his brief speech, Mandela sent out a strong message for national reconciliation and forgiveness by stating, “The time for healing of the wounds has come. The moment to bridge the chasms that divide us has come. The time to build is upon us. We have at last achieved our political emancipation. We pledge ourselves to liberate all our people from the continuing bondage of poverty, deprivation, suffering, gender and other discrimination.” While the goal of political emancipation has by and large been achieved, the divide on racial, economic and social lines unfortunately persists. The white minority continues to control the majority of arable land. They remain largely in control of the mega-corps of industry with only a few “Black Diamonds”, as black CEOs are called, emerging as corporate honchos. The black middle class is wafer thin and most blacks continue to be poor. The new education system to uplift the blacks has so far failed to do so. Unemployment remains a high 25 per cent and affects the majority black population the most. In recent times, this has given rise to black militancy that is beginning to threaten the racial peace that has so far prevailed. The South African economy is struggling with a GDP growth that hovers around 3 per cent. Yet it is not as if it is all gloom. South Africa remains the powerhouse of the African countries’ economies. Its leadership in the continent is grudgingly recognised. And unlike many African countries, its leaders haven’t become demagogues though there are concerns that President Jacob Zuma has exhibited such tendencies lately. When Mandela was under trial in 1964 that led to his spending 27 years in jail, he told Pretoria’s Supreme Court, "During my lifetime I have dedicated myself to the struggle of the African people. I have fought against white domination, and I have fought against black domination. I have cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die.” The grand vision that ‘Madiba’ had for his country remains sadly unfulfilled. Send your comments to raj@tribunemail.com
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PROFILE: Balbir Singh (Sr) Hockey
wizard Balbir Singh (Sr) — rated next only to legendry Dhyan Chand and K.D. Singh ‘Babu’ — is now 88 and a great grandfather. Age, however, has not mellowed his spirit. He lives either with his three sons settled in Vancouver, or daughter in Chandigarh. What came next was even more interesting. He came to the notice of Sir John Bennet, then Inspector General of Punjab Police, while playing for Panjab University in 1945. Bennet ordered Balbir to play for the police team. Balbir, however, was reluctant because his father had been tortured by the police. He fled to Delhi, but one day, as he come out of Shivaji Stadium, four Punjab policemen pounced on him, handcuffed and drove him to Ludhiana. They opened the handcuffs at a police station, and asked Balbir to put his thumb impression on a piece of paper, and declared: “You are now a Thanedar”. When the Indian team went to London for the 1948 Olympics, present on the tarmac of the airport was Sir John, then member of the Olympic Reception Committee. He was the man who had inducted Balbir into the Punjab Police team. He gave him a warm hug. Aslam Sher Khan, who won the gold in the 1975 World Cup, says Balbir was a great scorer. “If Dhyan Chand is identified as the genius of Indian hockey in the pre-War era, not many will hesitate to agree that such a description fits nicely Balbir Singh (Sr) in the post-Independence phase”. Balbir made his Olympics debut in London in 1948 against Argentina. He scored six goals, including a hat-trick. India won 9-1. In the final against Britain, India won 4-0; Balbir scored two. At Helsinki in 1952, Balbir was named vice-captain, Babu being the captain. Balbir has written two books: his autobiography “The Golden Hat Trick” (1977) and “The Golden Yardstick: In Quest of Hockey Excellence” (2008). In his autobiography, Balbir has revealed his love and marriage. He writes: “I met Sushil, my ‘girlfriend’ of 31 years, and fell in love at first sight. She was twenty when we met at her posh bungalow in Model Town, Lahore. Ajmer Singh Sidhu, a family friend and my teacher, gave me a letter to be delivered to Sushil’s house.” “I was in the Punjab team that won the 1946 National Championship in Calcutta. It was after 14 years we were carrying the national championship back to Lahore... I hopped into a taxi and sped to Sushil’s house.... I gave my... medal to her as a keepsake. She pretended to protest, but eventually accepted it, blushing coyly. Our love blossomed.”
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It took the nation 27 years from conceiving (in June 1983) a tunnel at the Rohtang Pass to finally commencing work. The tunnel forms part of a broader framework being put into place, which would provide better access to the sensitive and remote areas along the borders in the northern as well as north-eastern parts of the country that remain cut off for months owing to weather.
8.8 km: Length of the Rohtang Tunnel. It will be the world’s longest road tunnel at an altitude of 10,000 feet. 
I never murdered a snake, but killed a few by mistake by running over them. One was a large King Cobra in the Shivaliks, which was crossing the road running from Kalka to Ambala. Another, a python, between Dharampur and Kasauli. I ran over an adder on my bicycle in England going from my lodgings in Welwyn Garden City (Hertfordshire) to the Dellcot Tennis Club. One large one on a road in northern Italy. I came across a few taking my evening strolls in Delhi and Kasauli. I saved the life of one being chased by some boys armed with sticks and stones and lectured them on the important role snakes played in keeping the balance of nature. If all snakes were killed, the world would be infested with rats, mice and other vermin. I was provoked to write in defence of snakes after reading a learned article by Romulus Whitaker who ran snake farms in Madras Zoo and a snake-cum-crocodile farm on the coast of the Bay of Bengal.
We have around 300 species of snake in our country. Of these, only four are poisonous: Cobras, kraits, vipers and Russels vipers. Between them they take a toll of around 45,000 human lives every year. The mortality figure could be brought down if we had snake bite serum readily available in village dispensaries. It needs to be injected in the body almost immediately after the sting to be effective. Delay in doing so proves fatal.
There
Balbir’s debut in hockey was interesting. Back in 1936, he watched a movie on India’s 1936 Olympic hockey triumph, which was etched in his mind forever. Dhyan Chand’s magic with the stick is what inspired him.