Today, I tried something very adventurous. It got me all pumped up, set my adrenaline running, and left me feeling high. Did I, you may ask, go bungee jumping? No. Maybe it was something else like rock climbing or stomach rappelling. Wrong. It was something far more adventurous than that. Something that would put underwater caving or base jumping to shame. Hold your breath. I went… driving through Chennai.
Balderdash, I hear you say! I sense that tone of disbelief, disappointment and outrage in your thoughts, as if in a Bollywood movie you were watching, the bad guys were all killed by malaria rather than by a hail of bullets. Driving through Chennai is no big deal, you might think. Many of you do it everyday. But for me, as a NRI returning to my janmabhoomi after a hiatus of several years of driving overseas, it was a big deal. It boosted my confidence to realize that I had not lost my touch. That I could still blare a mean horn. That I could still duck and weave through a labyrinth of people and vehicles. And most importantly, that I could travel a full 20 kilometres and stay alive. Indeed, I am proud of what I have achieved.
And so, on this sultry afternoon, I have decided to sit down and pen my thoughts, so the uninitiated and future generations can truly understand the intricacies of the art that is driving in Chennai, to rival the masterpiece that is Zen and the art of Motorcycle Maintenance or even Das Kapital.
A dear friend of mine used to say “The first rule is that there are no rules”. Since he was run over by truck before he could give me the rest of the rules, I have suitable paraphrased it to “Everyone driving on the roads of Chennai is entitled to their own inalienable personalized set of rules”. After all, we live in the world’s largest democracy.
So, imagine you were at a traffic light at an intersection and wanted to turn right. If you were an obsessively organized person, you would move to the rightmost lane and turn on your indicator. However, in Chennai, this is not necessary. You have the power of choice. You can choose to turn right from any lane of your liking, even the left most one. All it needs is a bit of blaring the horn and pretending that you own the land on which the intersection is built. Using your indicator is optional. You might as well save the battery power to operate the horn or air conditioner rather than the indicator. Come on, if people around you cannot read your mind, it is their fault.
The most important rule you need to learn deals with right of way. As a general rule, smaller vehicles give way to larger vehicles. Cars give way to buses and trucks (or lorries, as they are called). Scooters and motor bikes give way to cars. Bicycles give way to any motorized vehicles. And the hapless pedestrian gives way to everyone else, including potholes on the road. There is one exception to this great pyramid of giving way. Cows do not give way to anyone. They are the supreme masters of the human race on Chennai roads. They have a ticket to move anywhere without fear of being run over – be it the median on the centre of the road, the dustbin on the side, or even at a bus stop. All traffic must slow down and weave around to accommodate the vagaries of the cow.
Once you have learnt the right ‘right of way’, the next lesson is a quick one in becoming an accomplished three dimensional terrain driver. If you enjoy driving over sand dunes or dirt trails, or participating in the Dakar rally in your spare time, you will master this in no time. It’s quite simple really. Just keep an eye on the terrain, so you can avoid potholes on the road. Some of them may look like large craters left when the Martians last invaded Earth, but do not worry, they are perfectly drivable. Keep another eye out for traffic on your left and right, and front and back. No doubt, when you reach your destination, you will have exercised your eyes so much they could give Arnold Schwarzenegger a run for his money for the Mr Universe title. Just be sure to give the cars around you 6 full inches of space to maneuver.
Chennai drivers have a lot of lane discipline. They ensure that all lanes are used up in an optimal manner. Even if this means that someone has to go driving down the wrong side of the road so that the lane is used up. The interpretation of a lane is that you can fit a minimum of one car in a lane. It is quite normal to fit 6 cars side by side into a 4 lane road, so there is not an inch of empty space left over. The cops know this, and they try to outsmart them by setting up so called road blocks that block off two of the best lanes on a 4 lane road. The hapless drivers then have to squeeze the six cars into the remaining two lanes. They manage this with dexterity from years of practice and by playing the game ‘Is my horn louder then yours?’
Parking is a breeze as well. If you are in a hurry, you can park anywhere – in driveways, under a flyover, parallel to another parked car or if on a motorbike, in the 12 inches of space between the bumpers of two parked cars. Too many choices! As long as your vehicle plays loud music while reversing into a spot, you should be fine. You are even allowed to make a three point turn at a busy intersection to ensure you don’t miss that elusive spot. Don’t worry about getting a parking ticket – at the speed at which most traffic moves, the cops are never sure if you are illegally parked or just stuck in traffic.
If everything fails, and you still cannot bring yourself to drive in Chennai, I have a surefire remedy. Just get the word ‘PRESS’ tattooed in big bold letters on your vehicle. It gives you the right to continuously sound the horn while driving at breakneck speeds, drive on any side of the road, and park anywhere you want. To complete the transformation add the words ‘SOUND HORN’ and ‘Ferrari’ to the back of the vehicle. Then people tailing you will know who they are up against and realize that resistance is futile.
In short, driving in Chennai is like meditation. It is chicken soup for the soul. It brings one a strange sense of calm, almost like you are about to enter the next world. How can you feel road rage when you aren’t even sure if you will get to your destination horizontally or vertically?
In the second part of this article, we will cover more advanced topics, such as how to avoid freshly broken coconuts and melon on roads, how to make your number plates unreadable by getting them written in Tamil, and most importantly, what expletives to use when you come across an elderly pedestrian who wants to cross the road at a zebra crossing. We also provide 101 legitimate excuses for when a cop pulls you over going down the wrong way in a one-way street. I will start working on that once I get out of this traffic jam in 2012.
