An oblong bit of stone, a smear of vermilion. A few grains of rice came one day, a diya was lit on another. A few days later, the oblong bit of stone was a stone no more: it had attained iconic status. God had been born.This is a quintessentially Indian phenomenon: a temple that springs up out of nowhere, a shrine that comes up on a place where a ‘‘miracle’’ took place. It’s the land of saints and shrines, after all, and a look at roads in any city amply proves this. So what if traffic suffers, if people have to take a detour, if movement on the road — particularly true in old city areas — takes place at a snail’s pace at peak hour.Religious structures are up there on that list that those in charge would rather keep at arm’s length. Bow their heads, fold their hands and move on. Who would want a holy discord after all, inviting the ire of sants as well as their disciples? Who would want to question why a ‘‘house of God’’ has to be removed? And be termed ‘‘faithless’’? That’s the reason that the number of illegal structures — call them shrines or encroachments — eating away into our network of roads and pavements grows every year.With no one to question, the keepers of these temples as well as the religious brigade have a field day. Devotees throng the ‘‘shrines’’, and everyone indulges in a public display of faith. No one seems to be able to do anything about this problem. Dare you complain about the long line that makes driving difficult, about the many flower and agarbatti vendors who are occupying space earmarked for your car as well as affecting pedestrian traffic? God almighty, how can you even think of it? And quite frankly, most of us just can’t be bothered to protest. Complain to whom? Will it lead to anything?But if faith can move mountains, it can also bring down illegal structures. A resident of Mumbai showed this when he filed a petition against illegal shrines, based on which the Bombay high court told the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation to demolish all shrines that were encroaching on pavements and eating away into the public’s domain. Over 1,000 illegal shrines were demolished. It’s not as if all the shrines dotting roads in Mumbai disappeared, they’re still there: a mandir at one crossing, a small dargah at another. But the fact remains that one man managed to make a difference.In the name of God, it’s time to do something: let public thoroughfares remain public thoroughfares, let’s not turn them into places where we indulge in a public display of faith.
