As the reported visit of the Prime Minister of Japan to Guwahati on July 1 draws closer, the city has suddenly transformed into a giant construction site. Roads are being resurfaced, footpaths rebuilt, walls repainted, and flower beds planted at unprecedented speed. On the surface, it appears to be a welcome effort to improve the city. But for many residents, it raises a familiar and uncomfortable question: Why does Guwahati only receive attention when a VIP is expected?

The most visible example is along Zoo Road, Panjabari Road, and several other stretches where existing roads have effectively been narrowed to accommodate new concrete planters and decorative landscaping. These are not temporary arrangements. Valuable road space has been permanently sacrificed in a city already struggling with congestion.

What is often forgotten is that these roadside margins served as one of the few practical parking options available to the public. Guwahati has long suffered from a severe shortage of organized parking infrastructure. The Guwahati Municipal Corporation has failed to create adequate public parking facilities, forcing residents, customers, and businesses to depend on limited roadside spaces. Now even those are disappearing in the name of beautification.

A beautiful city is desirable. But a functional city is essential.

The current approach appears more focused on creating a visually appealing route for visiting dignitaries than on addressing the daily struggles of ordinary citizens. Roads likely to be seen by VIP convoys are receiving urgent attention, while many other critical stretches continue to suffer. Residents using VIP Road, Narengi Road, and several other corridors know that potholes, poor drainage, and traffic bottlenecks remain unresolved.

The disconnect between image and reality became even more visible with the recent public outrage over the removal of singer Zubeen Garg's mural from a flyover pillar. The resulting protests brought traffic to a standstill and exposed a growing frustration among citizens. The mural was not merely artwork; it represented an emotional connection with Assam's cultural identity. Removing it in the name of beautification sent the wrong message to many people.

What authorities may be missing is that public frustration is not about flowers, paint, or landscaping. It is about priorities.

Citizens are tired of temporary solutions designed to impress visitors. They are tired of roads being dug up and repaired repeatedly without lasting results. They are tired of seeing resources concentrated on showcase projects while basic urban services remain inadequate. They are tired of spending hours in traffic, struggling with poor drainage during rains, and dealing with a chronic lack of public infrastructure.

If the Japanese Prime Minister does visit Guwahati, perhaps there is no need to hide the city's realities behind decorative walls and flower beds. Japan itself became a global model through efficient urban planning, public transport, disciplined infrastructure management, and long-term thinking, not through cosmetic preparations before important visits.

Let the world see Guwahati as it truly is: a city with immense potential, hardworking people, rich culture, and serious urban challenges that require genuine solutions.

Perhaps then the conversation will shift from how the city looks for one day to how it can become a better city for every day.

And if it rains on July 1, as it often does during the monsoon, no amount of fresh paint or flower beds will conceal the deeper questions residents continue to ask. The true test of governance is not how a city appears during a VIP visit. It is how comfortably and efficiently its citizens can live every single day.