Officials maintain that the flyover is “progressing as planned”, which is administrative shorthand for “we know exactly where the files are, just not why they are there”. The structure, rising majestically and then stopping mid-air like a paused YouTube video buffering at 2 per cent, has become a symbol of civic patience, cardiovascular health and the mysterious art of tendering. The upper deck is still awaiting its destiny, while the lower deck has been claimed by joggers who insist they have as much right to public infrastructure as traffic that never comes.
At 5.15 am, the stretch resembles a marathon sponsored by irony. Retired uncles with fitness trackers nod solemnly at software engineers counting steps, while aunties debate whether brisk walking under unfinished flyover pillars burns more calories due to “extra stress”. A group calling itself the Flyover Fitness Collective meets daily to stretch next to barricades that were installed during a previous phase of optimism. One member, who asked not to be named because his son works in a consultancy, said the flyover was “a blessing in disguise, like GST but for knees”.
Traffic police, initially baffled, have adapted with admirable flexibility. Whistles now signal overtaking by power walkers. Cones mark hydration points. A constable was overheard explaining to a confused motorist that vehicular traffic would be allowed “after the walkers finish their cool-down”. The department has also issued an advisory clarifying that reflective jackets are mandatory, not because of traffic, but to avoid colliding with stray dogs who have taken up parkour between pillars.
The project’s cost, officials say, should be viewed in context. ₹449 crore, they argue, is not just concrete and steel, but also hope, ambition and a very expensive lesson in project management. “If you divide the amount by the number of steps people have walked here, the per-step cost is very reasonable,” said a senior engineer who requested anonymity because he was not authorised to speak but felt authorised to jog. He added that delays were due to “technical challenges”, a phrase that covers everything from land acquisition to the coffee machine breaking down during a key meeting.
Locals have responded with the pragmatism for which South India is famous. Food vendors have appeared, selling idli-energy bars and electrolyte filter coffee. A start-up has launched guided flyover walks, promising mindfulness, civic awareness and a free rant session at the halfway point. Influencers film reels titled “Manifesting traffic on a flyover that manifests abs instead”. One reel went viral after a jogger tripped over a blueprint and claimed it was the closest anyone had come to interacting with the project’s design.
Urban planners insist the flyover will revolutionise mobility once completed, citing models that show reduced congestion and improved air quality. Walkers counter that air quality is already excellent at 5 am and that congestion has been successfully eliminated by simply not opening the road. “Zero traffic, zero stress,” said a software tester between lunges. “This is the future of smart cities. We have leapfrogged directly to post-traffic civilisation.”
The structure’s double-decker nature has inspired philosophical debate. Some argue the upper deck represents aspiration, while the lower deck symbolises reality. Others believe both decks are aspirational, just at different budget approvals. A retired professor conducts free lectures on the sociology of flyovers, pointing out that unfinished infrastructure creates community in ways finished projects rarely do. Attendance has grown steadily, especially on days when the wind whistles through rebar like a municipal flute.
Authorities have promised multiple inauguration dates over the years, each greeted with cautious optimism and then brisk walking. One date was postponed due to rains, another due to paperwork, a third because the ceremonial scissors could not cut through symbolic ribbon tied to symbolic pillar. An insider told FD Staff that a rehearsal inauguration was held where everything went smoothly except the flyover itself, which refused to cooperate by remaining incomplete.
Meanwhile, the jogging track has developed its own governance. Informal rules dictate clockwise movement on weekdays and anti-clockwise on Sundays to keep things fresh. A volunteer committee enforces silence zones for meditation and loud zones for complaining. There is even talk of elections, with candidates promising better lighting, fewer barricades and a bold manifesto to complete the flyover only after everyone achieves their step goals.
Economists have taken notice. One paper suggests the project has accidentally delivered public health benefits that would have cost an additional ₹200 crore if planned intentionally. Insurance companies are exploring discounts for policyholders who log kilometres on “approved civic structures”. A wellness app has requested official recognition of the flyover as a certified fitness trail, arguing that its length, elevation changes and existential dread provide a full-body workout.
Not everyone is amused. Daily commuters, peering longingly from adjacent roads, question why a flyover built to ease their misery now hosts zumba sessions. “I support fitness,” said a delivery driver stuck in traffic nearby, “but my scooter would also like to be healthy.” Officials replied that patience is the ultimate cardio and suggested he join the walkers until the road opens.
Political reactions have been measured. Leaders have praised the “innovative interim utilisation” of public assets while assuring voters that completion is imminent. Opposition figures have accused the government of promoting elitist jogging over inclusive congestion. A banner briefly appeared thanking taxpayers for funding the nation’s longest treadmill. It was removed after officials realised it was accurate.
The project’s documentation has grown thicker than the concrete. Files detailing extensions, revisions and clarifications now require their own shelving system. A junior clerk, flipping through papers during his lunch walk, remarked that the flyover has created more employment in file management than it will ever create in traffic management. “This is Make in India,” he said, adjusting his pedometer.
Cultural adaptations continue. A local school conducts morning PT classes on the stretch, teaching children that discipline involves both exercise and waiting. Wedding photographers have begun booking the flyover for pre-wedding shoots, attracted by the industrial aesthetic and metaphorical value. One couple posed under a half-finished ramp captioned “Our love is under construction but on track”.
Safety audits have produced mixed results. While vehicular accidents are impossible without vehicles, there has been a spike in collisions between optimism and reality. Authorities are considering signage warning walkers about sudden announcements promising completion “within six months”, which can cause dizziness.