For many people who were born and brought up in Guwahati and continue to live here, the late ’70s, ’80s, and even ’90s now feel like a dream in hindsight. The city had its own unique charm: slow, relaxed, and idyllic. We could run relay races on the main roads of Ulubari and Rehabari on ordinary afternoons without worrying about speeding vehicles or chaotic traffic.
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Several years and a few decades later, the city has transformed itself into a hotbed of chaos capable of making even a monk contemplate violence. The massive and unabated influx of people has turned Guwahati into a nightmare – especially for those who have lived through its tranquil past.
For a Guwahatian today, the madness begins the moment one steps out of the house. Those who have lived here since birth often feel like outsiders in their own city, outnumbered and outpaced by a sudden population surge that has disturbed the city’s social balance. The situation has become so overwhelming that driving out of Guwahati now brings a sense of relief, while returning to it often feels mentally exhausting.
The population spike alone, however, is not responsible for the collapse in civic sanity. Several other factors have contributed to this urban catastrophe. Let us look at some of the more glaring ones:
1. Vehicular Density: Guwahati today has one of the highest vehicular densities in the country. As of 2023, the number of registered vehicles in the city had already crossed 13 lakh. With nearly one lakh new vehicles being added every year, the current figure could very well rival or even exceed the city's human population.
The problem is simple: the city’s road infrastructure has not expanded proportionately with this explosive rise in vehicles. The number of vehicles has multiplied aggressively while the roads continue to resemble relics from a much smaller town that accidentally woke up as a city one morning.
2. Driving Etiquette or the Lack of It: The situation would perhaps not have become this severe had people exercised even basic driving etiquettes and civic sense. Instead, everyone seems to be in an inexplicable rush. Indiscriminate honking has become normal, traffic rules are routinely ignored, overtaking from the wrong side appears to be acceptable behaviour, and haphazard parking is business as usual.
Add this to the encroached footpaths, pothole-ridden roads, endless flyover construction, reckless driving, and vehicles appearing suddenly from every possible direction. Even a short commute in Guwahati now feels exhausting. Pedestrians, meanwhile, seem to have been completely forgotten.
3. Flood Fury: Heavy rainfall and the flooding that follows have now become one of the biggest fears for the city’s residents. Ironically, people no longer worry about whether it will rain; they worry about how badly the city will collapse after it rains.
The rapid population growth over the years has triggered relentless construction across Guwahati. Apartment complexes are mushrooming everywhere, and finding a vacant plot of land today feels nearly impossible.
Real estate prices, meanwhile, continue to soar despite the city’s poor urban planning. This construction boom has disrupted natural drainage channels, preventing rainwater from flowing out properly. As a result, flash floods are becoming more severe every year.
What makes the situation more frustrating is the apparent indifference of the authorities. The government, GMDA, and PWD appear largely unmoved by the suffering of ordinary citizens. Beyond occasional drain-cleaning exercises, where the removed muck often remains piled beside the roads for days, little meaningful action is visible.
With proper planning, resources, and intent, a long-term solution to this perennial problem could certainly be achieved by learning from cities and countries that have tackled urban flooding successfully. But that would require urgency and accountability, both of which seem missing.
In today’s context, these factors have pushed Guwahati dangerously close to becoming uninhabitable. No number of flyovers will be enough to accommodate the ever-rising number of vehicles unless serious attempts are made to regulate new registrations and improve public transport infrastructure.
Another practical alternative could be the gradual shifting of important administrative, business, educational, and healthcare institutions to the northern bank of the Brahmaputra. Decentralisation could significantly reduce the unbearable burden under which the city is collapsing every day.
What makes all this particularly heartbreaking is that Guwahati was once genuinely beautiful, not because it was perfect, but because it had warmth, calmness, space, and character. To witness its gradual decline today is deeply painful for those who grew up seeing its old charm and now find themselves staring at little more than the exhausted remains of a city they once loved.
(All views and opinions expressed in this article are author’s own)
