As the taxi
entered Mount Road from GN Chetty road, Mr Khalil said, “Indians are such wonderful
drivers. The traffic is so disciplined.” You can imagine my reaction. I was
just happy the taxi-driver was not listening. “Especially the auto rickshaws,
those drivers have their vehicles under such control.” Actually he used word tuk-tuk,
which is how most foreigners refer to autos. Extremely fortunate, because while
I had a spasm run through my spinal cord, the taxi-driver did not understand
tuk-tuk : if he had, his full body spasm would have resulted in our taxi
crashing.
“They
know every route, they never have any accidents, they drive in such thick
traffic with such remarkable control,” he continued.
No this
conversation is not a figment of my imagination –it happened in April 2012. Mr
Khalil is a Professor of Mechanical Engineering from Cairo University, an
air-conditioning expert – he is the man who cools the pyramids of Luxor. On my
friend Balaji Dhandapani’s request, I was on the way to show Prof Khalil the
monuments of Mamallapuram.
“Nobody in
India thinks we drive well, least of all the auto drivers,” I suggested. “Indian
traffic is chaotic.”
“Well,
relative to the US or western countries, perhaps. But compared to Egypt this is
excellent,” he continued, as several autos avoided us by inches. “You rarely
see any accidents in India, do you? With this many vehicles there should
normally be several more crashes. But people are careful, they may drive close
but they drive carefully.”
“What
kind of tuk-tuk drivers do you have in Egypt?” I asked. “Oh, it is terrible,”
he said. “Mostly, 12 year old boys. They drive illegally with no driving
licenses and they have no control; at that age, they will not have much control
anyway; and they have all kinds of accidents; they mostly drive in poor parts
of Cairo, where there is no other transport.”
Our taxi
merged into the Brownian motion of buses, two wheelers near the Teynampet
suggestion. A traffic light glowed red, suggestively, and after some
consideration, some vehicles stopped.
“And the
people of India are so hard-working and punctual,” he continued, continuing his
psychological warfare, unaware of the grotesque contrast between expression and
reality. “Which people?” I said – maybe he meant the staff at his five star
hotel. “Your government employees, for example,” he continued in deadly
earnest. “Is this also a case of Indo-Egyptian relativity,” I mused. “In Egypt
they come to work between 9 and 10, work for an hour, have a cup of tea. Around
11.30, they prepare for the 12 o clock prayer, at the mosque. Then after the
prayer, they have lunch, maybe until 2. Then they come back, and around 3, they
are somewhat tired, and head back home.”
I
recently visited Gujarat. In Ahmedabad, I saw several collisions at traffic
intersections, mostly between autos and motorbikes : in just the two actual
days I was spent travelling in the city. Statistically that may not be a valid
sample size, but it occurred to me that Madras auto drivers are far better. This
experience prompted this blog. Also, an article in Times of India, that some
auto drivers conduct charity events, but it gains them no respect or
recognition. It occurs to me, that in India, we drive by manodharma, not by
law. That is not necessarily a bad thing. It is the law that has to adapt.
Taxi merging into the Brownian motion of buses... :)
ReplyDeleteஇந்த எட்டு வருஷத்து நிறைய மாறியிருக்கு கோபு. பணம் ஒன்றே குறி. அதற்கு நடுவில் அபூர்வமாய் பாயசத்தில் முந்திரியாய்...வேணாம் டயபடிக்காரி பாயசம் பத்தி பேசப்படாது...பொங்கலில் கிடைக்கும் முந்திரியாய் அகப்படுகிறார்கள். - வித்யா சுப்ரமணியம்.
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