The Art of Jaywalking
Jaywalking is an essential skill to cope with most Indian cities and Mumbai is no exception. Indians are genetically geared to excel in this. No one ever teaches anyone. From childhood, youngsters observe the adults, newcomers to cities observe the veterans and together all of them learn and evolve the best strategies to navigate the onslaught of heterogeneous traffic and the odd slow-moving bovine creatures. (Incidentally the more we in 'modern' India try to vehemently deny the presence of the aforesaid peace-loving bovine creatures on urban roads, the more they pop up at the most annoying places, in full view of camera-happy foreigners).
Back to jaywalking. It is not just an art. On further thought, I believe it involves quite a bit of a complex science, an understanding of human behavioural responses, the experience of animal behavioural responses and a small belief in kismat.
So here are some starter’s tips. As you hit the metalled surface, first spend half a second to crook your neck rightwards to mentally capture the form and composition of traffic that’s approaching you. After that, in the next half second you start moving in a straight or diagonal direction depending on which vehicles (and drivers) look like they are most likely to slow down or brake suddenly as you appear in their frame of vision. As you walk confidently onwards, you grab ‘your share’ of road space and if necessary eye-ball those chauffeur-driven cars who don’t want to make the effort to manoeuvre their long shiny cruise liner-like cars away from the path they have decided to careen through.
The more experienced jaywalkers would have by this time sub-consciously calculated the gaps between vehicles of different speeds and sizes. They are able to effortlessly wander across by alternately stopping and moving from one strategic base to another on a multi-lane highway. Their movements akin to a fast game of checkers, these guys are no less than sophisticated computer programs, which as my ex-colleagues in the world of transport modelling will remember, consistently fail to replicate road user behaviour in India!
I must also do some justice to the vehicle drivers here. They are not just skilled drivers but part mind-readers too. The average driver is prepared for anything and everything to come in her or his way. It could be hop-scotching school children, a cyclewallah carrying a 'bori' of rice, small rusty cars, big flashy cars, happy couple chatting on a Bajaj scootie, dude on a mobike trying to impress his girlfriend with a 45 degree Bollywood-style manoeuvre , a small ‘tempo’ van with the helper hanging out of the side window, a big chartered bus full of pilgrims, or just a bucket full of laundry water being splashed without notice on the local road. Any of the drivers (or passengers) can change their mind about what they were doing three seconds ago, or where they want to go in the next three seconds. Hey everyone has a right to think a new thought, and once you’ve made up your mind why wait, action it immediately.
However there are a couple of unwritten rules. For example, taking no panga (dare) with the BEST (Mumbai State) buses please. And just accept this: the auto-rickshaws and taxis rule the roads- some of the really thrill-seeking ones even consider trying to cut off a BEST bus. Although, thankfully, most seem to change their minds at the last minute or the last second. With no indication of where they will turn next and no lights to show whether they are speeding or braking, it’s a matter of endless possibilities as the autos keep everyone guessing about their next moves.
The typical yellow-black Fiat taxis usually find it beneath them to even respond to such attention-grabbing antics, but sometimes get disgruntled enough to throw in a couple of sharp moves themselves. The BEST buses don’t bother with anyone and keep hurtling on while the drivers sitting in the air-conditioned comfort of shiny cars vent out their anger by scowls and angry honking and comments on lack of civilisation- all this just before downing their windows to throw the empty crisp pack and chocolate wrappers outside. Through this all, the brave jaywalker manages to walk across the other half of the 4-lane road, maybe spews a bit of ‘paan’ by the roadside and then continues briskly to the suburban rail station.
This isn’t just Mumbai I talk of. As I travel around I see people in cities across India jostling for public space. The cityscape changes, the faces change, the shape and make of the vehicles change, the animals on the roadside change, the bright coloured advertisements on the sides of rickety buses change, the languages in the adverts change but the jaywalker remains. More out of necessity rather than choice.
An experienced vehicle driver once told me: Madam being on the road is like playing a video game, and you have to win. Did someone say Indians were 'non-sporty'?
Back to jaywalking. It is not just an art. On further thought, I believe it involves quite a bit of a complex science, an understanding of human behavioural responses, the experience of animal behavioural responses and a small belief in kismat.
So here are some starter’s tips. As you hit the metalled surface, first spend half a second to crook your neck rightwards to mentally capture the form and composition of traffic that’s approaching you. After that, in the next half second you start moving in a straight or diagonal direction depending on which vehicles (and drivers) look like they are most likely to slow down or brake suddenly as you appear in their frame of vision. As you walk confidently onwards, you grab ‘your share’ of road space and if necessary eye-ball those chauffeur-driven cars who don’t want to make the effort to manoeuvre their long shiny cruise liner-like cars away from the path they have decided to careen through.
The more experienced jaywalkers would have by this time sub-consciously calculated the gaps between vehicles of different speeds and sizes. They are able to effortlessly wander across by alternately stopping and moving from one strategic base to another on a multi-lane highway. Their movements akin to a fast game of checkers, these guys are no less than sophisticated computer programs, which as my ex-colleagues in the world of transport modelling will remember, consistently fail to replicate road user behaviour in India!
I must also do some justice to the vehicle drivers here. They are not just skilled drivers but part mind-readers too. The average driver is prepared for anything and everything to come in her or his way. It could be hop-scotching school children, a cyclewallah carrying a 'bori' of rice, small rusty cars, big flashy cars, happy couple chatting on a Bajaj scootie, dude on a mobike trying to impress his girlfriend with a 45 degree Bollywood-style manoeuvre , a small ‘tempo’ van with the helper hanging out of the side window, a big chartered bus full of pilgrims, or just a bucket full of laundry water being splashed without notice on the local road. Any of the drivers (or passengers) can change their mind about what they were doing three seconds ago, or where they want to go in the next three seconds. Hey everyone has a right to think a new thought, and once you’ve made up your mind why wait, action it immediately.
However there are a couple of unwritten rules. For example, taking no panga (dare) with the BEST (Mumbai State) buses please. And just accept this: the auto-rickshaws and taxis rule the roads- some of the really thrill-seeking ones even consider trying to cut off a BEST bus. Although, thankfully, most seem to change their minds at the last minute or the last second. With no indication of where they will turn next and no lights to show whether they are speeding or braking, it’s a matter of endless possibilities as the autos keep everyone guessing about their next moves.
The typical yellow-black Fiat taxis usually find it beneath them to even respond to such attention-grabbing antics, but sometimes get disgruntled enough to throw in a couple of sharp moves themselves. The BEST buses don’t bother with anyone and keep hurtling on while the drivers sitting in the air-conditioned comfort of shiny cars vent out their anger by scowls and angry honking and comments on lack of civilisation- all this just before downing their windows to throw the empty crisp pack and chocolate wrappers outside. Through this all, the brave jaywalker manages to walk across the other half of the 4-lane road, maybe spews a bit of ‘paan’ by the roadside and then continues briskly to the suburban rail station.
This isn’t just Mumbai I talk of. As I travel around I see people in cities across India jostling for public space. The cityscape changes, the faces change, the shape and make of the vehicles change, the animals on the roadside change, the bright coloured advertisements on the sides of rickety buses change, the languages in the adverts change but the jaywalker remains. More out of necessity rather than choice.
An experienced vehicle driver once told me: Madam being on the road is like playing a video game, and you have to win. Did someone say Indians were 'non-sporty'?
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