logo
How it was done: ‘For 12 years, we ate, lived, breathed the Chenab'

How it was done: ‘For 12 years, we ate, lived, breathed the Chenab'

Indian Express2 days ago

'In the beginning, there were no roads. We would go by foot, on mules and ponies, perch ourselves on a ledge and even camp on cliffs at night as we surveyed how we could build roads to move the equipment to the bridge site. I knew the Sahyadris. I was just a boy from Mysore and here I was, high on the Himalayas, so very different, terrifyingly high and so very alien.'
The 'boy from Mysore' is L Prakash who, as Chief Engineer of the Konkan Railways' Udhampur-Srinagar-Baramulla Rail Link (USBRL) project, was responsible for laying the roads.
Now an Executive Director, he recalled the early days when he supervised the 30 km-long road stretch and 350-m long tunnels to reach the bridge site.
'We would break through the rocks and advance by a few metres in a whole day. Finding the light at the other end of the tunnel took months. Frequent landslides meant that we would have to abandon the site and find a new tunnel site. It was a classic case of one step forward and two steps backward.'
But Prakash drew inspiration from local residents who rappelled up and down the steep cliffs, tethered to a simple rope, to help survey teams analyse the rocks.
'I learnt a lot from the locals. They opened their homes to us, cooked food because we would be stranded up there for days. The rain would slap us almost every afternoon. And then we would huddle around the campfire. Without the road, it would take a day to come down to Reasi town. The locals walked, used ponies and crossed rope-bridges. They would carry down the sick on charpoys, strapped to their backs,' he said.
Once the survey was done, he would travel downstream by boat. 'The river currents are strong. But the upstream currents are stronger.'
Prakash was responsible for laying the foundation plinths that would hold up the pylons and girders. 'Each foundation was the size of a football field. And constant rain meant that they would be washed out and seasoned all over again,' he said.
The earth was something that Santosh Kumar Jha, CMD of Konkan Railway, thought he could understand given his background in geology. 'The Himalayas are young fold mountains. You are cutting through strata which are maturing and have not become rock yet. And each stratum is different and shifting all the time. The Chenab Valley is a Grade V seismic zone, so any design had to have the swing feature to move with the rocks. There was no template. Everything was on-site innovation,' he said.
Beating nature was the biggest challenge. The team tested the rocks with pinhole boring and then filled up the loose gaps in the strata with concrete. Then they inserted the rock bolts, each of them about 30-40 m long to reinforce the holding layer. 'We would just finish one rock face over several hours. Then we pumped in water jets at a pressure of 300 bars so that the bolt rods expanded inside and could pack the layers even closer. We used a polyurethane grout which increases the standing time of the water to avoid flooding in the tunnel,' Jha said.
The arch bridge design, he said, was done over one-and-a-half years. 'It is made up of interlocking beams and girders. A suspension bridge would have been lighter but it would not have borne the weight of a 300-tonne railway coach or withstand wind speeds of 266 kmph. So we built hollow girders so that they could be moved up by boats, then filled them up with concrete at the site so that they became weighty and sturdy,' said Jha, who had supervised many such improvisations on the site.
So the day the two ends of the arch were joined in the middle, he was a happy and tense man. Happy that the arch bridge was ready, tense because even a millimetre-long misalignment in the joints could destabilise the bridge. 'We had to make thousands of calculations and recalculations at each stage of launching the bridge to get the nuts, bolts and grooves to fit into each other,' he said.
Prakash recalled how the team used Mi-26 helicopters of the Army to lift the machinery in the initial days. 'But there was a lot of human or superhuman effort. At the tallest piers, workmen soared across on an open platform, tethered to girder rails to dodge the winds and rain. Once on the girder, they would have to stay there for 12 hours before they could be hauled down. They would carry their tiffin in their suits. We even had a disposable, mobile toilet which we sent up and parked on the girder through the shift. There were days when the cranes malfunctioned and we would send up our men in cage lifts to repair them. It took some acrobatics from the crew,' he said.
Prakash rarely left the site. 'All of us were mostly from the southern states, toiling hard to build a megastructure in the Himalayas which we were not familiar with. So there was this pressure of leaving a legacy. Steel expands and contracts easily with temperature and for the most effective interlocking, needs a perfect temperature after sunset. So whenever we would install a portion of the bridge, we did that in the evening. Mornings were about making the girders,' he said.
As a result, most engineers would go back to their quarters only to sleep a few hours. 'We ate, lived and breathed the Chenab. There was such spontaneous camaraderie that we would have meals and a game of basketball or chess together. Most of us stayed away from our families for 12 years. Now when they take the first ride, hopefully my children will understand why I had missed their growing-up years,' Prakash said.
In terms of technology, Jha remembers that the site units were completely automated. 'We had self-climbing cranes, and had to crunch, flip, twist and extend their antlers to do the job. We talk about 3D printing today but a long time ago our CNC machines cut the steel sheets into various shapes, sizes and designs, according to the drawings fed into the computer attached to it,' he said. Each pre-fabricated part, no matter how tiny, was lab-tested for air leaks and lastability, cleared and then moved to make a bit of the giant curve.
Despite difficulties, Jha said, the engineers rarely gave up. 'In fact, over the last few years, many women engineers joined the project too. And we have even increased salaries of staff at the Chenab project,' said Jha, who was taken in by the people who lived along the river banks.
'Just days before the inauguration, some of them came to me saying that they would lose their jobs now that the project was over. They have become family, so we will be redeploying them in other parts of the J&K railways or other Konkan Railway projects. Many of them have acquired skills on the job which have indeed made them valuable manpower for any project,' he said.

Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

How it was done: ‘For 12 years, we ate, lived, breathed the Chenab'
How it was done: ‘For 12 years, we ate, lived, breathed the Chenab'

Indian Express

time2 days ago

  • Indian Express

How it was done: ‘For 12 years, we ate, lived, breathed the Chenab'

'In the beginning, there were no roads. We would go by foot, on mules and ponies, perch ourselves on a ledge and even camp on cliffs at night as we surveyed how we could build roads to move the equipment to the bridge site. I knew the Sahyadris. I was just a boy from Mysore and here I was, high on the Himalayas, so very different, terrifyingly high and so very alien.' The 'boy from Mysore' is L Prakash who, as Chief Engineer of the Konkan Railways' Udhampur-Srinagar-Baramulla Rail Link (USBRL) project, was responsible for laying the roads. Now an Executive Director, he recalled the early days when he supervised the 30 km-long road stretch and 350-m long tunnels to reach the bridge site. 'We would break through the rocks and advance by a few metres in a whole day. Finding the light at the other end of the tunnel took months. Frequent landslides meant that we would have to abandon the site and find a new tunnel site. It was a classic case of one step forward and two steps backward.' But Prakash drew inspiration from local residents who rappelled up and down the steep cliffs, tethered to a simple rope, to help survey teams analyse the rocks. 'I learnt a lot from the locals. They opened their homes to us, cooked food because we would be stranded up there for days. The rain would slap us almost every afternoon. And then we would huddle around the campfire. Without the road, it would take a day to come down to Reasi town. The locals walked, used ponies and crossed rope-bridges. They would carry down the sick on charpoys, strapped to their backs,' he said. Once the survey was done, he would travel downstream by boat. 'The river currents are strong. But the upstream currents are stronger.' Prakash was responsible for laying the foundation plinths that would hold up the pylons and girders. 'Each foundation was the size of a football field. And constant rain meant that they would be washed out and seasoned all over again,' he said. The earth was something that Santosh Kumar Jha, CMD of Konkan Railway, thought he could understand given his background in geology. 'The Himalayas are young fold mountains. You are cutting through strata which are maturing and have not become rock yet. And each stratum is different and shifting all the time. The Chenab Valley is a Grade V seismic zone, so any design had to have the swing feature to move with the rocks. There was no template. Everything was on-site innovation,' he said. Beating nature was the biggest challenge. The team tested the rocks with pinhole boring and then filled up the loose gaps in the strata with concrete. Then they inserted the rock bolts, each of them about 30-40 m long to reinforce the holding layer. 'We would just finish one rock face over several hours. Then we pumped in water jets at a pressure of 300 bars so that the bolt rods expanded inside and could pack the layers even closer. We used a polyurethane grout which increases the standing time of the water to avoid flooding in the tunnel,' Jha said. The arch bridge design, he said, was done over one-and-a-half years. 'It is made up of interlocking beams and girders. A suspension bridge would have been lighter but it would not have borne the weight of a 300-tonne railway coach or withstand wind speeds of 266 kmph. So we built hollow girders so that they could be moved up by boats, then filled them up with concrete at the site so that they became weighty and sturdy,' said Jha, who had supervised many such improvisations on the site. So the day the two ends of the arch were joined in the middle, he was a happy and tense man. Happy that the arch bridge was ready, tense because even a millimetre-long misalignment in the joints could destabilise the bridge. 'We had to make thousands of calculations and recalculations at each stage of launching the bridge to get the nuts, bolts and grooves to fit into each other,' he said. Prakash recalled how the team used Mi-26 helicopters of the Army to lift the machinery in the initial days. 'But there was a lot of human or superhuman effort. At the tallest piers, workmen soared across on an open platform, tethered to girder rails to dodge the winds and rain. Once on the girder, they would have to stay there for 12 hours before they could be hauled down. They would carry their tiffin in their suits. We even had a disposable, mobile toilet which we sent up and parked on the girder through the shift. There were days when the cranes malfunctioned and we would send up our men in cage lifts to repair them. It took some acrobatics from the crew,' he said. Prakash rarely left the site. 'All of us were mostly from the southern states, toiling hard to build a megastructure in the Himalayas which we were not familiar with. So there was this pressure of leaving a legacy. Steel expands and contracts easily with temperature and for the most effective interlocking, needs a perfect temperature after sunset. So whenever we would install a portion of the bridge, we did that in the evening. Mornings were about making the girders,' he said. As a result, most engineers would go back to their quarters only to sleep a few hours. 'We ate, lived and breathed the Chenab. There was such spontaneous camaraderie that we would have meals and a game of basketball or chess together. Most of us stayed away from our families for 12 years. Now when they take the first ride, hopefully my children will understand why I had missed their growing-up years,' Prakash said. In terms of technology, Jha remembers that the site units were completely automated. 'We had self-climbing cranes, and had to crunch, flip, twist and extend their antlers to do the job. We talk about 3D printing today but a long time ago our CNC machines cut the steel sheets into various shapes, sizes and designs, according to the drawings fed into the computer attached to it,' he said. Each pre-fabricated part, no matter how tiny, was lab-tested for air leaks and lastability, cleared and then moved to make a bit of the giant curve. Despite difficulties, Jha said, the engineers rarely gave up. 'In fact, over the last few years, many women engineers joined the project too. And we have even increased salaries of staff at the Chenab project,' said Jha, who was taken in by the people who lived along the river banks. 'Just days before the inauguration, some of them came to me saying that they would lose their jobs now that the project was over. They have become family, so we will be redeploying them in other parts of the J&K railways or other Konkan Railway projects. Many of them have acquired skills on the job which have indeed made them valuable manpower for any project,' he said.

Udhampur-Srinagar-Baramulla Link: How Railways beat seemingly insurmountable odds to crack the Kashmir code
Udhampur-Srinagar-Baramulla Link: How Railways beat seemingly insurmountable odds to crack the Kashmir code

Time of India

time3 days ago

  • Time of India

Udhampur-Srinagar-Baramulla Link: How Railways beat seemingly insurmountable odds to crack the Kashmir code

The Udhampur-Srinagar-Baramulla Rail Link (USBRL) project, which Prime Minister Narendra Modi inaugurated on June 6, marks a significant milestone in Indian infrastructure. This ambitious initiative aims to create seamless rail connectivity from Kashmir to Kanyakumari, overcoming geographical and security challenges that have plagued the region for decades. The USBRL, built at a cost of approximately ₹44,000 crore, spans 272 km and features 36 tunnels and 943 bridges, including the world's highest Chenab Bridge . This engineering feat promises to reduce the travel time between Delhi and Srinagar to under 13 hours, providing much-needed all-weather connectivity. Play Video Pause Skip Backward Skip Forward Unmute Current Time 0:00 / Duration 0:00 Loaded : 0.00% 0:00 Stream Type LIVE Seek to live, currently behind live LIVE Remaining Time - 0:00 1x Playback Rate Chapters Chapters Descriptions descriptions off , selected Captions captions settings , opens captions settings dialog captions off , selected Audio Track default , selected Picture-in-Picture Fullscreen This is a modal window. Beginning of dialog window. Escape will cancel and close the window. Text Color White Black Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Opacity Opaque Semi-Transparent Text Background Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Opacity Opaque Semi-Transparent Transparent Caption Area Background Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Opacity Transparent Semi-Transparent Opaque Font Size 50% 75% 100% 125% 150% 175% 200% 300% 400% Text Edge Style None Raised Depressed Uniform Drop shadow Font Family Proportional Sans-Serif Monospace Sans-Serif Proportional Serif Monospace Serif Casual Script Small Caps Reset restore all settings to the default values Done Close Modal Dialog End of dialog window. by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like Doutora: Truque caseiro para pescoço de peru (Tente isso hoje à noite) Revista & Saúde Saiba Mais Undo A first-hand account: From inception to completion A ToI report (by Arvind Chauhan) captured the experiences of Neetu Sapra, who saw everything from close quarters as the project progressed from inception to completion. "No quarters, peak insurgency, the Kargil War – it was a roller coaster," she told the reporter. Living in a CRPF camp in Srinagar with her young son while her husband, Suresh Kumar Sapra, worked on the USBRL project was fraught with danger. She adds, 'During a shopping trip to Lal Chowk in 1998, we narrowly escaped a bomb blast.' Neetu's life story is a testament to the resilience of families involved in this vital rail project. Live Events TNN The dream and the challenge The USBRL project began in 1997 when former Prime Minister H. D. Deve Gowda laid its foundation in Udhampur. Many deemed the task impossible, given the challenging terrain and ongoing insurgency. The initial spirit of the project was captured by Sandeep Gupta, the executive engineer, who noted the overwhelming challenges faced by the team. Gupta recounts, 'We had no choice but to dive in. This was bigger than us.' The conditions were harsh. The team of engineers faced numerous logistical issues, including lack of housing, poor electricity supply, and inadequate transportation. Sapra recalls dodging landslides during a trip to Srinagar and the struggle for basic necessities. The state power department had not restored electricity due to unpaid bills, and the team relied on candles and water from CRPF tankers. Sapra took on the role of the cook, preparing meals with limited resources. A slow journey: Through danger and other adversities On November 12, 1997, the railway survey team arrived in Nowgam, where local residents mistook them for police and nearly escalated tensions. To ensure the team's safety, the Jammu and Kashmir government provided armed security. Gupta describes the anxiety of the situation, saying, 'I had butterflies in my stomach due to sheer anxiety and fear.' Despite these challenges, the team marked the project's first alignment, a moment Sapra described as planting a dream. The survey work continued, with the team facing harsh winters and encounters with locals, including surrendered militants. However, by October 1998, they had completed the Qazigund-Baramulla survey ahead of schedule. The next phase involved surveying the Katra-Qazigund stretch, which revealed the struggles of local residents who relied on makeshift transport due to poor infrastructure. Tragedy struck in 2004 when IRCON engineer R N Pundhir and his brother were kidnapped and killed by terrorists, causing work to pause momentarily. However, buoyed by local support, the railway personnel resumed their efforts. A trial run in October 2008 marked a significant achievement, with local communities coming together to celebrate the occasion. The Udhampur-Srinagar-Baramulla Rail Link eventually turned out to be not just an infrastructure project; it represents years of determination, resilience, and the unwavering spirit of those who worked tirelessly against the odds. It stands as a symbol of hope for the people of Kashmir and a testament to India's efforts towards linking all regions.

‘Prakruti' Prakash ‘bombs' the forests, with seeds of hope
‘Prakruti' Prakash ‘bombs' the forests, with seeds of hope

Time of India

time4 days ago

  • Time of India

‘Prakruti' Prakash ‘bombs' the forests, with seeds of hope

1 2 Hyderabad: On June 5, World Environment Day , Rajanna Sircilla witnessed a stirring sight — environmental crusader Dobbala Prakash, affectionately known as 'Prakruti' Prakash, was out doing what he cherishes most: seed bombing. Armed with 15,000 jamun (java plum) seed balls, Prakash spent six relentless hours—from 7am to 1pm—flinging, dropping, and scattering them across the rugged terrain of Manala forest in Rudrangi mandal. A writer and singer by talent, and a green warrior by passion, Prakash has earned his nature-loving moniker for his unwavering dedication to afforestation. The seed balls, made from seeds and mud, were prepared over weeks by collecting fallen jamun seeds. Carefully targeting forest zones and hills, the idea is simple yet powerful —rewild the landscape and coax life back into the earth."The govt must demarcate and protect the boundaries of all hills and hillocks," said the 37-year-old green crusader. "Only then can nature thrive and greenery flourish," he told TOI. For Prakash, this wasn't a one-off ritual. Over the past 22 years, he has crafted and dispersed an astonishing 18 lakh seed balls across forest tracts, open spaces, and barren hills using traditional methods and even drones. His greening efforts span regions like Lingampeta, Chandurthi, Nikalamarri, Akkapelli, and Gambhiraopet in Rajanna Sircilla, and Sarangapur and Kondagattu in Jagtial. This monsoon alone, he plans to drop six lakh seed balls — including tamarind, jamun, custard apple, mango, neem, and other fruit-bearing varieties. Hailing from Suddala village in Konaraopet mandal, Prakash has a heartfelt appeal to chief minister Revanth Reddy: "Protect the hills from encroachments. Fence them if needed. Let nature reclaim its space."

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into the world of global news and events? Download our app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store