Horn not OK

H. Kishie Singh

It was a dark and stormy night, the rain fell in torrents, as said Edward Bulwer-Lytton. That morning, at 5 o’clock, there was also thunder, lightening and freezing cold. I was on a Good Samaritan mission, rushing a pregnant woman to the hospital.

I drove into the porch to get out of the rain, but before I could open my door, a car came and pulled up millimetres from my car. The porch was empty except for my car, yet he jammed me into a tight spot. “Bloody Junglee!” I muttered under my breath. No manners, no decency, not a thought for the people around him. After all he was in a hospital.

The rain fell in sheets as I reversed out of the porch to allow the pregnant woman, moaning and groaning, to alight. The driver of the other car was in no rush. He just ambled away.

The Junglee came out and reversed. As soon as he engaged reverse gear, the stillness and silence of the pre-dawn morning was shattered by the cacophony of the reversing alert. Beep-beep-beep. It went on and on!

The Junglee was a lousy driver. What could have been an easy three-point turn, he executed in a 5-point turn. And that too, in an empty parking lot! The beeping alert would not be allowed in any developed country. The driver would be arrested for being a public nuisance! Especially in a hospital.

The Chandigarh Police have done a tremendous job with their ‘Please don’t honk’ campaign. It has had some effect but dealing with the most undisciplined, thoughtless, badly behaved human being on earth, the Indian driver, is not easy!

One driver being challaned in the GMH-16 hospital argued that he had to honk because a child got in his way. The man did not have the decency, emphasis on that word, to allow a child to cross the road, that too in a hospital. At all times, a child, the elderly or any pedestrian for that matter has the right of way, more so in a hospital. They may be patients. What is required is compassion.

The Indian driver suffers from the Genghis Khan syndrome. The moment he gets behind the wheel of his car, he is transformed into a road warrior — aggressive and supreme. “I am monarch of all I survey; my right there is none to dispute!” And the horn is his weapon. This is the face of the Indian driver.

The shortest span of time, so short that even an atomic clock may not be able to record the time lapse, is at the traffic lights. The light turns green and the driver behind you blows his horn. He has been just sitting there, with his itching finger hovering over the horn button. Instantaneous would be too long.

There should be a law saying no honking within 100 m of the traffic lights! Police will reap a bountiful harvest of challans. The offending motorist cannot escape. Other than the honking maniacs, there will be bikers who are duty bound to jump the red lights.

Another ‘Road Safety Week’ has come and gone. Did it accomplish anything? I doubt it. If anything will help, it will be a ‘Road Safety Year’. It will cover the next 51 weeks.

Happy Motoring!