Tuning into Chennai Traffic

Three weeks ago I flew to Kuala Lampur to extend my Indian visa. I was staying with someone I met online and spent several days walking through the city, checking out upscale malls and marveling at the public transportation. Then, over a deeply fried fish in Chinatown, my host sipped a bit of herbal tea and proceeded to tell me why traffic in Kuala Lampur was so bad.

"There are just too many cars--and there are a lot of people who learned to drive in the village and didn't improve once they got to the city," he said.

I was shocked. Not only does Kuala Lampur have extremely well designed roads, but, for the most part, people obey traffic laws. No one runs red lights, there are very few potholes and police have cracked down on drunk driving. Occasionally, during rush hour, people have to sit in their cars for a while, but the jams begin to clear up quickly.

It is normal to complain about the traffic in your city as there is no place on earth where occasional road backups don't mangle your plans. Kuala Lampur is no exception. But when I began to tell my host the traffic situation here in Chennai, I think he came away with a
little better appreciation for his civic infrastructure.

As far as I can tell there are no laws--or at least no one seems to be familiar with them. Run red lights, travel on the wrong side of the road, run down a pedestrian, go slow in a passing lane, don't use a lane at all, cut someone off just to stop in front of them--if you are driving in India it really doesn't matter what you do to get to your final destination.

Every morning before I jump on my motorcycle I wonder if this might be the last time I ever drive. No one wears a helmet, and I see at least one crash a week. Not long ago I was in Pondicherry and I helped move two dying men from the road who had crashed into one another while angry onlookers honked their horns and wondered what was causing the delay. At least three motorcyclists barged their way through the standstill and came dangerously close to running over the prone bodies on their way past. When traffic did start to flow agai I was sure that there were at least a few dirty looks cast my way and I wiped blood from my hands and waited for an ambulance.

Sharing the road with everything from bicycles and rickshaws to motorcycles, buses, camels and cows innumerably extends the sorts of accidents that you can get caught up in. Every day the Deccan Chronicle gives short listings of fatal accidents that usually involve gruesome details of people run over by buses after falling from motorcycles, burned alive when they hit live wires, falling into unseen trenches, and decapitations from un-helmeted people slamming
into the backs of lories.

On the roads the only rule that has any meaning is "might makes right": the bigger you are the more freedom you have to do anything you want. I find it crazy that under Indian traffic law, if you cause a fatal accident, you can usually get off with a fine of only Rs 1500. I know at least one person, who completely at fault, killed someone and was free to continue driving as early as the next day.

I can think of at least a few solutions that might make the problem easier. First, the police need to be empowered to stop, ticket and tow any violators. While there are hundreds of police on the road directing traffic right now, none of them have radios, handcuffs, or even books of tickets to distribute. When a lawbreaker gets directed to the side of the road, more often then not they just speed past and the cop is powerless to do anything about it.

Second, the police need some sort of incentive to actually do their job. Since most traffic cops make something like rs 700 a month (!), it might be a good idea to give the officers rs 10 every time they stop and ticket someone. Not only would it drive up revenues for road improvements, but also the police would have strong motivation to start doing their job. After only a couple of months you would begin to see huge changes in the way that people approach driving.