Fresh from a road trip to Bhutan, Shahwar says that there’s a lot we can learn from our neighbours to the North.

I was in Bhutan last month, and came back feeling that there’s a lot we could learn from this tiny Himalayan Kingdom.

It’s amazing how the world changes as soon as you step (or drive) through the Dragon Gate at Phuentsholing. It’s just a simple gate, but on either side there’s a world of difference in the purest sense of the word. On the Indian side of the gate is the North Bengal town of Jaigaon, which is completely chaotic – as most border towns tend to be. The last 4 or 5 kilometres to the Dragon Gate seem to take an eternity to cover.On the narrow road leading to it, I had to share space with carts pulled by huge oxen, rickshaws of all types, local taxis driven by maniacs, cargo vans incessantly honking, trucks loaded to the brim, and handymen hanging out of busses, banging on the bodywork to announce their arrival. In other words, pure cacophony!

In sharp contrast, on the other side of the gate, there were no three-wheelers, no bullock carts, no overloaded taxis, no trucks, and certainly no honking. Everything was in perfect order, and everyone followed traffic rules down to the T. The traffic rules in Bhutan are very strict, and no one is spared if they break the rules – not even Ministers. 55km/h is the speed limit in towns, and no one seems to be in a hurry to get anywhere any faster than that.

I was on a motorcycle, and what joy it was to ride on those roads – not only because the roads were good, but also because of the well-mannered traffic. As soon as the driver notices a motorcyclist in the rear-view mirror, he will indicate when to pass. Even trucks do that. So, no blowing of the horn or incessant flashing of headlights to get by.

I certainly got my fair share of stares and bewildered looks from motorists when I fell victim to my Delhi riding habits, and blew the horn unnecessarily. ‘Bloody Indians,’ they must have muttered under their breath.

Nowhere in India have I seen highways being swept, and regularly at that. Once I sat at a roadside shed for a long time, and saw precious little traffic and certainly no one on foot except for a couple who were dutifully sweeping the highway off some leaves and dust. There was no one watching them, but they were meticulous at the task at hand.

On the way back from Punakha to Thimpu, I came across a small junction with a tiny circle in the middle of the road. Not sure which way to go, I absentmindedly crossed the circle from the right. Immediately a policeman appeared out of nowhere and demanded I pay a fine. There was no other vehicles as far as I could see, and I wouldn’t have endangered anyone with the wrong turn. But I had broken the rules and was liable to be fined. Luckily some people from a small eating joint nearby intervened, and I was let off.

We too have rules, but who follows them? Driving on the wrong side with the high beam on, speeding, road rage, and a complete lack of courtesy are the norm. And if you happen to have a red light on the roof, or are driving a big flashy car, you can get away with most traffic violations by dropping some names to the unfortunate policeman who stops you. In Bhutan, the King’s cousin gets challaned for traffic violation and no one raises an eyebrow. In India, if some poor policeman dares to do that to the relative of some VIP, he’ll immediately be transferred to some godforsaken place.

If only we could take a leaf out of Bhutan’s book and start behaving in a slightly civilized manner on the roads, we would save ourselves a lot of trouble – and a lot of lives too.
Bhutan doesn’t have even a fraction of the modern trappings that we have – malls, arcades, theatres, entertainment hubs,et all – but they have a bottomless reservoir of good manners. And that’s why they are a ‘Happy’ nation I guess.

We have so much to learn from our tiny neighbour to the North, and we ought to learn fast!