By Bhogtoram Mawroh
For a cyclist, Shillong and its surrounding environs provide many opportunities for exploration. There are numerous routes one can take that provide a challenge and a glimpse into the beauty of the rural landscape close to the city. One of my favourite routes is the Shillong–Nongstoin–Rongjeng–Tura highway. There’s very little traffic on this road, so it’s safer, and there’s a lot to see. Then there’s the road to Nongjrong, which diverts from the Mawkynrew road and takes one to the Umngot valley, which has some of the most beautiful rice terraces in the state. When I descend from Khrang village, I feel like I am looking at the Ifugao rice terraces of the Philippines, which UNESCO has identified as a World Heritage Site—something Meghalaya has been striving for with its living root bridges. The rapidly improving road network makes all this exploration possible. This is something missing in other states of the region.
A few weeks ago, I made two trips to Nagaland, one to Peren district and another to Phek district, to attend workshops. The first was to Peren. I was told that the road had improved and we would arrive at our destination early. However, the reality was quite the opposite. There were innumerable potholes on the road, and mud covered a large portion, making travel hazardous. Since the Kohima highway had experienced a landslide, trucks going to Manipur were using the same road, creating an additional problem since it was quite narrow. We reached the town of Peren completely exhausted. While returning to Dimapur after the workshop, the driver took a different route, which was equally bad, and I was almost late for my train.
The following week, I left again for Nagaland, this time for Phek district for another workshop. There is a perception that Assam has very good roads, but this does not seem to apply to Karbi Anglong, through which we had to pass on the way to Dimapur. Just before and after Dokmoka town, the road was in terrible condition. Our driver, a young Bodo fellow, drove through the potholes, with the underside of the vehicle often getting hit by rocks laid down for road building. The road in Dimapur was very good and had improved from the last time I was in Nagaland. Around that time, the Kohima highway was being built. It was now complete, but travelling through it was dangerous. Last year, a video was circulating on social media that showed large boulders falling onto vehicles stranded on the road, killing a few people. I wanted to know if they had taken precautions to avoid such an incident again.
On the side of the hills, stakes had been driven into the rock face and fixed with nets to stop any boulders from falling onto the road. In many sections, the landslide prevented people from using two lanes of the four-lane highway. Sometimes, the mud even covered the lanes in use. Just before Kohima, a landslide blocked the main highway, so we had to take the Jotsoma village road to reach the town. Finally, after taking so much punishment, the tyres gave way and got punctured. I was happy that the puncture didn’t happen on the highway because that would have been a disaster. I had to take another vehicle to Phek, and I was already running late. Fortunately, the organisers had arranged a vehicle for me with another participant.
I had been to Phek twice, and the road, though not of high quality, was still motorable. But this time around, it seemed the road had gotten worse, and it did not let up until we reached Pfutsero, the highest town in Nagaland, situated at 2,133 metres. We reached Chizami village (the site of the workshop) late, and I was completely exhausted. The next day, I fell sick and did not recover until the last day of the workshop. The return journey was equally strenuous. We had to take an alternative route to return to Dimapur because the one we took while coming had experienced a landslide. Before we could reach Kohima, there was another landslide, and we had to take the Kisama heritage village road, which was equally bad. Finally, we somehow reached Dimapur, and I took the train to Guwahati, where the car I had booked was already waiting for me. I got home late at night, completely exhausted and grateful to see good roads without potholes and mud.
People cannot deny that the road network in Meghalaya has improved a lot, but too much of a good thing can also be bad. One route I often take while cycling is from Tynring village, which connects to the bypass. Initially, I would take the Diengpasoh village road when it was still under construction. Later, while cycling, I found out that they had laid a new road through Ummir village, which also connected to the bypass. Recently, I went for a ride with my friend on a scooty along the newly laid Diengpasoh road. We wondered why the government had spent so much money on expanding two roads that ultimately led to the bypass and were located so close to each other. There’s another road being built through Umsaw village, where the eco-park is located, which is supposed to connect to the bypass. I went trekking to find out if the road is good for cycling. Maybe I took the wrong turn, but the new road, still incomplete, ultimately joined Umrynjah, through which the VIP road passes, which connects to the Shillong Airport. This road is currently under repair, and I have ridden through it as well on the way to Bhoirymbong. I didn’t understand why they were building a different road to connect to the same destination. Maybe I took the wrong turn. But it seemed that new roads were being built and old ones expanded even when there was no need.
The best example of profligacy in road building is the bypass, which starts from the District and Sessions Court in Tyrchi village and joins the road that leads to Dawki out of Jowai. Considering the traffic and the distance, the need for the project seemed totally unnecessary. In fact, there is an ongoing case in the NGT regarding the environmental impact of the project on the Myntdu River, which supplies water to the town of Jowai and holds deep spiritual significance for the Pnars. On the 27th of September, 2025, Philippe Cullet (Senior Lecturer in Law at the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London, UK), Angela Rangad (social activist), and I were invited by the Khooid Ya Ka Wah Myntdu association—led by Khroo Lamsalanki Pariat and some senior citizens of Jowai—to join the consultation meeting on ‘Myntdu River Restoration, Rejuvenation, and Beautification’. Present at the meeting were Advocate Sristhi Agnihotri and Advocate Tara E. Kurien, both from the Supreme Court, who are representing the association in the NGT. The next hearing is on October 17, 2025.
While I was returning from Chizami, the passengers in the car (all experienced development practitioners) were discussing the infrastructure projects being implemented in the Himalayas. These projects were wreaking havoc on the fragile local ecology. This year has been particularly devastating for the communities living in these regions, with huge losses of life and property reported. We also talked about the expansion of road networks in Arunachal Pradesh, where there is minimal traffic.
There is no doubt that the Northeast and Meghalaya have suffered from poor infrastructure for a very long time. However, the pace at which the projects are being implemented or chosen leaves much to be desired. I had travelled to Kohima before the four-lane highway was conceived, and the road, though smaller, was safer. The state’s capital needs a bigger road, but the project also creates risks that cannot be denied. People have actually died. We need good infrastructure, but we also need to discuss how those projects are conceived and implemented. Infrastructure projects cost a lot of money, and for a small state like Meghalaya, it is important to avoid wasteful expenditure and ensure that every rupee spent is justified while not creating additional problems.
(The views expressed in the article are those of the author and do not reflect in any way his affiliation to any organisation or institution)
