After Byrnihat was ranked the most polluted city in the world, a pressing question emerged: How could such a small township generate so much pollution? Since then, numerous reports have been published identifying the culprits — rapid industrial growth, the town’s topography and a surge in heavy diesel vehicles using the highway that cuts through it.
Yet a glance at everyday life in Byrnihat suggests its residents play little part in generating the town’s mammoth emissions. Instead, they are unwittingly trapped in toxic air, deprived of even basic infrastructure — chief among them, a functioning public transport system.
Merina Marak, a resident of Nongkyllah, rushes each day to her job at a factory in Lower Ballian (Rajabagan). “I walk from my house to the auto stand near the national highway, catch a shared autorickshaw and get down about 3-4 kilometres away. Then I walk again to reach the factory,” she said. Like Merina, Bobby Sharma follows the same routine.
Their story mirrors those of countless others who serve the scores of factories that now line both sides of National Highway 6 (NH-6), as Byrnihat morphs into a full-fledged industrial town straddling Assam and Meghalaya.
Byrnihat’s skeletal road network is anchored by NH-6, which begins at Jorabat, shortly after leaving Guwahati. A few minutes' drive takes one to the 12th Mile area — on the outskirts of Byrnihat — where the highway splits jurisdictionally: Assam to the left, Meghalaya to the right. This divide continues until the Umtrew River bridge, after which both sides of NH-6 fall within Meghalaya.
The broader Byrnihat region stretches back to the 13th Mile, home to landmarks like the Byrnihat Post Office and the Central Academy for State Forest Service (CASFOS). At 14th Mile, Byrnihat’s more developed section begins, with factories belching smoke both along the highway and deep into interior zones.
From these inner neighbourhoods — whether in Meghalaya or Assam — residents mostly rely on shared autorickshaws to access NH-6 and travel along it. Despite the area’s industrial veneer, most of Byrnihat’s population lives in lower-middle-class conditions. Private cars remain a luxury, which partly explains the absence of chronic traffic jams.
Iada Wahlang, a teacher at the high school within the Conservation Training Institute (CTI), commutes daily from Nongkyllah Khasi. Her husband, Raju Patar, drives her to work each morning. But for the return journey, like most residents, she has no option but to depend on a shared autorickshaw.
The three-wheelers operate under an informal but organised system, permitted by transport authorities from both Assam and Meghalaya. Each auto stand has its own committee and a roster of vehicles. “Autos from one stand may drop passengers at another, but they cannot wait there,” Bhubaneswar Deka, vice president of the Jorabat Shani Mandir Auto Stand, told Down To Earth (DTE). “Each vehicle must return to its own stand to park or wait.”
Deka begins his day in Byrnihat, picking up mostly students and factory workers en route to Jorabat. The 12 kilometre journey typically takes 20-25 minutes in the morning when truck movement is restricted. But once trucks are allowed back on the highway — post 9pm — NH-6 becomes choked with long lines of parked lorries.
Sunny, the Byrnihat traffic-in-charge, told DTE that over a thousand trucks pass through Byrnihat each night, bound for Guwahati from across the North-East — Silchar, Mizoram, Shillong and Manipur. “Trucks are barred from entering Guwahati between 8am and 9pm, so they queue along the highway through Byrnihat, causing massive delays,” he said.
Auto fares follow a tiered structure. A ride from Byrnihat to Jorabat costs Rs 40, but students pay less — typically Rs 20-25. “We have an informal agreement to give students a discount,” said Deka.
Despite being the town’s transport lifeline, a handful of privately operated buses also run. “One bus starts from Byrnihat and goes to Adabari in Guwahati. It’s supposed to run daily, but due to low passenger numbers and frequent mechanical issues, it often doesn’t,” said one resident.
Another bus runs the reverse route — from Adabari to Byrnihat — via NH27, which connects Guwahati to upper Assam. Together, these buses make no more than two trips per day.
A handful of ageing Tata 407 mini-buses also ply between Byrnihat and Paltan Bazar in Guwahati — a crowded terminus adjacent to the railway station, often compared to Delhi’s Paharganj for its budget hotels and transport connectivity.
Siddiq Ali, who manages this 407 fleet, said his employer owns four such buses. “They can seat 20, but we often run half-empty. These days we barely break even — most people prefer autos,” he told DTE.
Speaking to auto stand representatives, DTE estimated that nearly 1,000 auto-rickshaws operate daily in and around Byrnihat, connecting residents to interior localities and to Guwahati.
“To go to places like Sonai Gaon, Moupur or Sarutari, autos are the only way. No buses or government transport go there,” said Hari Chetri, an auto driver from the 14th Mile Auto Stand and resident of Moupur. His route connects underserved areas, acting as a vital lifeline.
Attempts to obtain official data from the District Transport Office in Nongpoh were unsuccessful. Because autos from both states operate across jurisdictional boundaries, a precise count remains elusive. Still, around 1,000 vehicles operate regularly in total, estimate autorickshaw stand workers. “At our stand alone we have 35,” said Gorja Bahadur Chetri, treasurer of the Jorabat Kali Mandir Auto Stand. “Each stand varies, but the difference isn’t drastic.”
Despite its industrial might, factories in greater Byrnihat do not rely entirely on local labour. Residents pursue a patchwork of livelihoods — some work in low-paying factory jobs, others farm or run small businesses.
Sanjit Killing, a betel nut farmer from Lower Balian, earns just over Rs 20,000 a month. A third of that — Rs 8,000 — goes on auto fares for his three school-going children, underscoring how mobility eats into already fragile household budgets.
With few schools offering education beyond Class 10, many students — particularly on the Assam side — commute to Guwahati or Sonapur for further studies. “There’s no decent Assamese-medium high school nearby. Students in Classes 10-12 often spend over Rs 3,000 monthly on travel,” said Arjun Dey, a teacher at a government middle school.
Hemanta Timung, former Mandal president of the Bharatiya Janata Party in Jirang, told DTE that a government degree college in Byrnihat is urgently needed.
“There is no government office, no municipality here,” said Bracy Nongrum from the Nongthymmai locality in 15th Mile. “Byrnihat produces goods that benefit many states, but we breathe toxic air and have no local governance.”
Recounting her childhood, she added, “We saw green paddy fields and marshlands on the Assam side. Since 2006, unregulated industrial growth has destroyed everything.”
Pollution remains politically sensitive. Meghalaya’s Chief Minister, Conrad Sangma, has previously claimed that most polluting industries lie on the Assam side. Timung added: “There was talk of a joint action plan between the two states, but nothing happened. Meghalaya did shut down some polluting factories early on, even before Byrnihat was labelled one of the world’s most polluted towns.”
A March 2025 study by Council of Scientific & Industrial Research-National Environmental Engineering Research Institute (CSIR-NEERI) found that road dust contributes 63 per cent of particulate pollutant PM 10 levels, while industries account for 38 per cent of fine particulate matter PM 2.5. Vehicular emissions contribute 14 per cent of PM 10 and 11 per cent of PM 2.5.
Autorickshaws and buses dominate sulphur dioxide and nitrogen oxide emissions — but Timung believes the synchronised ignition of thousands of trucks each night worsens the crisis.
This article is part of our series on how India moves, which looks at the relationship between air quality and human mobility in cities and towns.