I have given the matter some consideration1 and I think it’d be fair to say that our road traffic etiquette reflects a deep cultural predisposition to better one’s own situation (literally) with scant regard for rules. Consider the evidence. We are a nation that has introduced the world to the idea of jugaad - a philosophy and way of life rooted in the bending of rules for personal benefit. Greasing the right palms and knowing the right people can help you get ahead in almost every aspect of life in this country. In fact, being known as jugaadu (i.e., one who is skilled in the art of jugaad) is a badge of honour, a cause for celebration. Those conferred with this title wear it with pride and disdain for the slow-witted commoners who stick to the straight and narrow. In this context, is it any surprise that our roads are riddled with people who view traffic rules as polite suggestions, and think nothing of cutting lanes and jumping traffic signals?
Anyone who drives in India is bound to have encountered such folks and, in all probability, been infuriated by their on-road shenanigans. In my view, there is an acute need to undertake an anthropological study of these specimens and develop a taxonomy to classify them. Indeed, such an exercise could also help us deal with them in a calm and rational manner instead of wishing they drive off the Bandra - Worli Sea Link. So, for everyone’s benefit, I have made an attempt to categorise the traffic-pests as follows2:
The Honkers: The Honkers are the most commonly occurring variant of the traffic-pests. We have all had our eardrums assailed by them but before we rush to curse them, we should try to understand their motivations. The Honkers are driven by religious fervour. They are students of the Old Testament. They hold onto a staunch belief that by honking incessantly they can part traffic the way Moses parted the Red Sea. They also have incredibly fast reflexes. They will be stationed behind a few cars at a traffic signal but within milliseconds of the red light changing to green, they will start honking. If honking were an Olympic sport, our country would be a shoo-in for a gold medal.
When I was younger I would often tail a Honker and honk at him in revenge. As I have grown older I have seen the error of my ways. Now, I have resolved to keep a box of eggs in my car. Every time a Honker passes me by, I will throw an egg at them. I believe this will be a more satisfying experience for everyone involved.
The Winkers: You know what I am talking about. You’ll be driving along peacefully minding your own business, when suddenly you’ll be blinded by a sudden flash of light in your rear-view mirror. The cause? An inexplicable twitching of headlamps by the car immediately behind you. I had always been non-plussed by this weird headlamp winking. What was it supposed to convey? Having spent a few years in Mumbai, I have finally stumbled upon the answer. The headlamp winking is the vehicular equivalent of the pursed-lips-kissing sound Mumbaikars make to draw your attention. Both are oddly salacious acts intended to patronize you and make you uncomfortable.
You see, calling out to someone is too mainstream. There is no power dynamic in such an engagement. But when you make an obnoxiously wet kissing sound and beckon someone towards you, they are instantly degraded. You hold all the power in that exchange. That’s exactly how the Winkers operate. They could easily overtake you to move ahead, but that doesn’t satiate their deviant needs. They want to rattle you into changing lanes and making way for them to speed ahead. Tackling Winkers requires nuance. On occasions, I have stood my ground and forced a Winker to overtake me. However, this strategy is fraught with risks. Winkers are prone to have psychopathic tendencies so it’s better to avoid angering them if you feel they could follow you home. Discretion, after all, is the better part of valour.
The Fortuner-ers: I appreciate that on the face of it this category may seem arbitrary and not based on any behavioural aspect (like the ones above). Some of you (who drive Fortuners, perhaps) may accuse me of bias and even jealousy. Admittedly, I drive a small hatchback which has, in the past, been described as a “cupcake box”.
But I assure you that my reasons for including Fortuners as a category are entirely scientific, namely, they make me feel small. Whenever a Fortuner pulls up next to me, I can only see the top of its front wheel and that’s just rude. Do these elephantine vehicles exist for any reason other than to make the rest of us feel puny? I get enough of that feeling when I go to the gym, I don’t need to experience it on the road, thank you very much. I am not at all suggesting that all Fortuner owners are blots on humanity but has anyone who owns a Fortuner, ever won the Nobel Peace Prize? I think that tells us all we need to know.
This classification is, of course, not comprehensive. There are numerous species and sub-species within these broad categories, with their own unique attributes. I have merely started the groundwork and there is much that remains to be done, to advance this field of study. If you are inclined to contribute to the traffic taxonomy, please feel free to share your views below.
Happy driving!
Particularly when I have been stuck in traffic.
Since my driving experiences have been limited to Kolkata and Mumbai, I have not made any references to gun-wielding road-ragers in this list.
Love your writing and how you make reading so effortless.
The highlight of your writings is that you make simple mundane everyday acts worthy of the time you make us devote to them.
Keep them coming
Loved it! But hey we need the honkers too for here in Calcutta, there are The Driver-Philosophers who start solving the particularly knotty tangles of thought EXACTLY when the signal turns green ~ and remain immersed -:)