Travel
India: Where Driving Is An Adventure
by H. KISHIE SINGH
Once upon a time, long ago and far away, when the wisdom of the ancients prevailed, men were men and women were happy. Good manners, chivalry and etiquette were the order of the day. There were unwritten laws like "where there is a will, there is a way," and more importantly, "spare the rod and spoil the child."
This last saying, having been ignored by society today, has cost mankind dearly. Use the rod judiciously and there will be no traffic violations; rape will be not be a spectator sport on Delhi streets. Our worthy ministers will not specialize in scams.
Let us consider the saying, "where there is a will."
Every time a driver gets into his car and gets on to the road, all he does is curse the Indian government for lack of roads, connectivity, maintenance and everything required to get from A to B. Our very own Sheila Dixit did not want to be badnaam. The Commonwealth Games were approaching and she had to make her mark in society.
The most common problem that drivers on NH (National Highway) 1 from Chandigarh to Delhi face is that they are obliged to overtake from the left. The reason is quite simple. Most traffic, especially the heavy traffic, drives in the fast lane, leaving the other two lanes, the slower lanes, open for faster traffic.
Some heavy traffic could be in the left-hand lane, which means a driver is constantly changing lanes. This is possibly the most dangerous driving situation. Has the National Highways Authority of India (NHAI) made any effort to rectify this situation prevailing on NH 1 for the last 20 years? It is progressively getting worse by the minute.
In all my years of driving on NH 1, I have been stopped just once. NHAI official vehicles are parked on the sides of the road with cups of tea on the bonnets and the officers' noses buried in newspapers. The mayhem on the roads is none of their concern. We all know that most of the driving licences can be bought. The need of the hour is to impart some knowledge to the drivers on the highway.
If the authorities have the will - and it is abundantly clear that they do not - there would be signs along the NH 1 saying "keep to the left." There would also be policemen standing on the road, directing traffic towards the left-hand lane. It would be a good beginning, and soon enough people would know where to drive.
This is what the Delhi police has accomplished. Take a look at the accompanying photograph.(top of the page). All heavy traffic is confined to the extreme left-hand lane, leaving the other two lanes for fast-moving traffic. It is now possible for the average driver to cruise past the lumbering behemoths at an easy 50-60 kmph. Informatively, it took the Delhi police about one year to effect what can be termed as a minor miracle. Actually, any change in traffic conditions on Indian roads for the better should be considered a miracle.
The NHAI authorities have to make a concentrated effort and the results would be there for all to see.
There is another deadly plague on our roads - tailgating. Cars, of course, do this occasionally, but the worst offenders are the big bullies of the state transport buses. It happens all the time. A car in the fast lane is unable to overtake for whatever reason. A bus, headlights on, with its horn blaring, will have his front bumper a meter away from the car. In case of the car having to suddenly slow down, the bus will make mince meat of the car and its occupants.
Road signs are vital to a driver to get to his destination. In India they are given least importance. Recently, there was a rather alarming news item in Chandigarh papers.
"Rs. 50 million to be spent for updating road signs in Chandigarh."
They were done a couple of years ago and they were a monumental mess. They are still up on Madhya Marg and seem to be a mixture of Sudoku, a crossword puzzle, and an astrological chart.
There is a strange syndrome in our country. The man who tailors your trousers wears pyjamas. He does not know how to wear a trouser. The man who makes your shoes wears chappals. He does not know what arch support is. And the man who designs road signs probably does not even have a driving licence. This became abundantly clear with the last set of road signs that were put up in Chandigarh.
Hopefully, the Rs. 50 million to be spent now will not be wasted.
Happy motoring.
The author is a motoring journalist based in Chandigarh, Punjab.
[Courtesy: Tribune]
April 23, 2011
Conversation about this article
1: Sangat Singh (Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia), April 23, 2011, 9:12 PM.
Some 12 years ago, I decided to take the Punjab Roadways bus to travel from Patiala to Ludhiana. Naturally the bus driver was a six-footer burly Sardar ji. During that period, a Punjabi song "Hey Jamalo" was the rage - I don't remember the lyrics. Within minutes of his taking his command seat, he inserted the cassette loud enough to be heard 20 miles away and started to sing along to add extra mileage. Occasionally, he would leave the steering wheel and move his hands in 'wah wah!' This was the time when the dual carriage-way was not yet constructed. It was a single multipurpose road with no line to divide the road, and thus allowed the traffic to weave in and out impartially, Indian style. It even allowed the man herding goats to have the right of way. Of course, the burly bus driver's disdain was quite visible and often expressed with the blaring of the horn and befitting invectives. Every now and then, we would pass a village that contributed scooters, auto-rickshaws, pigs, pedal rickshaws and bicycles onto the scene and allowed them unfettered access to the road. Despite these minor irritants, overtaking was mandatory. Every moving vehicle must be overtaken, especially the one that has just overtaken you, and then you must occupy the middle of the road. After all, Singh is a King. On this occasion, the two truck drivers rattling along in the opposite direction recognized each other, flashed headlights and braked, shimmying from side by side, wholly blocking the road and shrilled greetings to each other, reaching out to shake hands and then, reluctantly, went their separate ways, oblivious of the cacophony of horns from both sides with practiced indifference. Where can you get this kind of camaraderie - and opera? If you want to see and feel India, take a Punjab Roadways bus, but only after accepting and becoming comfortable with your mortality. Or reinforcing your Punjabi sense of immortality!
2: Vandna (India), October 31, 2011, 7:07 AM.
You are totally right.