After nearly a decade of construction delays, cost overruns, and what must surely be an underground portal to another dimension, Bhopal’s Aishbagh Rail Overbridge (ROB) is finally—almost—complete. According to officials, it’s “95% ready.” Which, in Indian infrastructure terms, usually means: “Please get the garlands and ribbon ready. We’ll fix the rest later.”
The pièce de resistance? A 90-degree turn right on the bridge. That’s right—a sharp, elevated corner waiting to surprise unsuspecting commuters with a sudden need to test their steering skills. Formula 1 fans may call it thrilling. Urban planners? Less so.
The Public Works Department is optimistic about a mid-June opening. The remaining 5%, presumably, involves basic safety measures like guard rails, signage, and figuring out how not to launch scooters into orbit. Meanwhile, Urban Development Minister Kailash Vijayvargiya visited the site recently and gave engineers a stern talking-to. Because, naturally, a scolding in year ten will achieve what a decade of public funds and missed deadlines didn’t.
But to be fair, when it opens, the ROB will ease traffic between Mahamai Ka Bagh, Pushpa Nagar, and New Bhopal, benefiting nearly 1 lakh commuters. Assuming they survive the turn, of course.
Bihar’s Clock Tower: Time Flies, But Clocks Don’t
About 900 kilometres east, Bihar is telling time in a way only Bihar can.
A newly built clock tower in Bihar Sharif—erected at a cost of ₹40 lakh under the Smart City project—stopped working within 24 hours of its grand inauguration. The tower, meant to mark progress under the CM’s “Pragati Yatra,” found itself lifeless the very next day after copper wiring was allegedly stolen. In broad daylight. From a brand new public monument.
The irony is rich: a timepiece launched to symbolize progress ended up representing delay, dysfunction, and perhaps the most literal example of “running out of time.”
Worse still, the aesthetics left much to be desired. Social media users mocked the paint job, the structure’s finishing, and its lack of architectural imagination. “Just ₹40 lakh for this masterpiece,” one X user snarked. “Hats off!”
But buried beneath the memes and mockery is a deeper tension: What does progress actually look like in today’s Bihar?
Between Old Realities and New Aspirations: Bihar’s Quiet Struggle
It’s easy to mock Bihar’s clock tower or Bhopal’s rollercoaster-ready bridge. What’s harder—but necessary—is to look at what these infrastructure stories really say about how public works are conceived, executed, and consumed by citizens.
In Bihar’s case, it’s not all bleak. Roads are better. Electricity is more stable. Students from the state routinely top national exams. Digital literacy and entrepreneurship are slowly on the rise. But these quiet gains often get overshadowed by loud flops like a ₹40 lakh clock that ticks only for a day.
What Bihar needs—and in some cases, is beginning to demand—is not just more development, but better development. Projects that prioritize both form and function. Leaders who think beyond optics and ribbon-cutting moments. And accountability that doesn’t fade once the paint dries (or peels).
The challenge isn’t just fixing broken clocks—it’s building systems that work on time, all the time.
Build It Right or Don’t Build It
There’s a lesson here for both Madhya Pradesh and Bihar: India’s problem isn’t just underdevelopment. It’s underthought development. Projects are designed without empathy for real users. Bridges built with turns too sharp for safety. Clock towers launched without protection from petty theft.
But there’s also reason for hope. Viral social media outrage, citizen activism, and a more engaged youth are starting to hold governments accountable. People care. They notice. They remember.
And sometimes, even laugh.
So the next time a bridge bends into absurdity or a clock tower runs out of time, don’t just share the meme. Ask: Who’s designing our cities? And are they building with the future—or just photo-ops—in mind?
