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Road rage - How do you deal with it?

Discussion in 'Safety First!' started by PatchyBoy, Nov 22, 2013.

  1. fiatlover

    fiatlover Esperto

    Grande Punto 1.4
    I recently started keeping a few CDs of lectures on Mahabharata, Ramayana and Sri Mahabhagavatha. Sri Mahabhagavatha alone runs to 50+ hours, all in a CD(Malayalam). I started listening to these everyday en route office. They calmed me down so much that even when someone repeatedly honks behind me, I could simply smile and give way. There may umpteen other methods to calm you down when you are behind wheels. But these are what helped me.

    Once when I was entering the outer ring road from Sarjapura side, a lady in an Innova coming from Kormangala side was angrily waving, and may be shouting too, at me to stop or slow down so that she could pass. I just smiled at her as she proceeded. Before that, I don't think I ever smiled at someone who shouted at me. I would shout back in the same tone or may be even worse.
    4 people like this.
  2. Road rage involving a pakistan diplomat
    Pakistan's Foreign Office today called in the Indian Deputy High Commissioner to protest against the road-rage incident involving a Pakistani diplomat and his driver in New Delhi.

    The Foreign Office conveyed its "serious concerns" to Deputy High Commissioner Gopal Baglay over Monday's incident in Delhi in which First Secretary Zirgham Raza and his driver Haider Zaman were allegedly "physically abused".

    Here is one of blog post which refers to road rage incident
    Why I Left India (Again)

    <address class="byline author vcard">By SUMEDH MUNGEE</address> 21-bullockcart-Indiaink-blog480.jpg Arko Datta/ReutersA car and two bullock carts make their way through traffic in Mumbai.
    The Hindi movie on my “return to India” flight on Dec. 13th, 2006 was “Swades” (literally: “My country,” a story about a patriotic NASA engineer who returns to India to help improve his homeland).
    The idea that you can fix India’s problems by adding more people to it — even smart people — is highly suspect. No, I wasn’t going back to fix things; I was leaving the U.S. to go back to Shri Thomas Friedman’s India: an India that offered global companies, continental food, international schools and domestic help; an India that offered freedom from outsourcing and George W. Bush.
    I was excited about moving to India and I thought I had the right expectations—after being away for eleven years (I grew up in Mumbai), I was prepared for India to feel less like home and more like the flight’s “Indian vegetarian meal”: visually familiar but viscerally alien.
    Our move was a success by any metric. My wife and I are software professionals, and our careers flourished at an Indian rate of growth (R.I.P., “Hindu rate of growth”). Our daughter attended a preschool in Bangalore whose quality matched any in the Bay Area. Our three-bedroom flat in Defence Colony, Indiranagar, was so comfortable and so American-friendly that my friends called it the Green Zone.
    And yet, two years and nine months after our move to India, on one of our regular evening jogs along our impossibly leafy street, my wife and I found ourselves discussing not whether we should return to the U.S., but when.
    A month later, we were back in California.

    Anyone who’s written about India has at some point claimed that there are two or at most three Indias, whether “airplane India” or “scooter India” or “bullock cart India.” Maybe they stop at three because it is difficult for the reader to imagine more.
    Early on, all the metaphors rang true. I’d see bullock-cart India beg from scooter India while scooter India was getting honked at by airplane India.
    But then the metaphors started to fade and the daily grind set in. I stopped noticing India’s newness, oldness and juxtapositioned-ness. Within weeks, I had joined the honking swarm driving in Bangalore. I knew a guy who could repair anything from my daughter’s talking Barney to our Bose Wave radio. I could sweet-talk an auto-rickshaw driver into not fleecing me (even though I was Kannada-challenged). Everything felt familiar, normal, unremarkable, as it should be; I was in India.
    That’s when it started going wrong.
    Three months after our return, after a friend told me that his two children were sick with amoebiasis — he thought they got it from their maid — my wife and I designated a separate set of dinnerware for our maids. It’s more hygienic.
    Within six months, I’d brusquely refused my driver an emergency loan of 500 rupees ($10) to attend his grandmother’s funeral. I’d learned my lesson after our previous driver scammed me into paying for his son’s broken leg (as it turned out, he had no son). It only encourages them to ask for more; besides, they’re all liars.
    Near the first anniversary of our return, I had my first road-rage incident: I verbally abused a hawker who was blocking the road. I’m not going to let bullock-cart India make my daughter late for her school admission test.
    The hawker glared but scampered away, the road cleared, and, as I walked back to my car, I saw something new and disturbing in my driver’s eyes: respect. I don’t know how my daughter felt because I couldn’t look her in the eye.
    Was this even a real problem? Make your peace; it is how it is.At the end of a long phone call to my mother in Pune, she said, “Don’t think so much. Just work hard and you can get whatever you want.”
    But I never doubted what I could get; I hated what I was becoming.
    I struggled, I regressed, I improved, I tried learning from others — except so many seemed (to me, not to them) worse off: an offensive Sardar joke here (even the kids laughed), a not-so-subtle inquiry about my caste (I’m still furious with myself for answering), tips on how to keep our maid “in her place” — it just didn’t stop. Et tu, airplane India?
    And so it goes.
    In any breakup, there is this moment when a person who was a part of you just an instant ago becomes a surrealistically familiar stranger. After that moment, inertia and denial can only delay the inevitable.
    On my last night in Bangalore I drank an egregious amount of my favorite takeout Chinese hot-and-sour vegetable soup, and I cried; I knew this second goodbye was final. When I first left India in 1996, I left for the U.S. When I left India in 2009, I left India.

    Why do I feel better in the U.S.? Maybe it’s not because I’m at home here, but because I’m an alien. Perhaps three thousand years of history have made us Indians a little too familiar with one another for our own good. We’ve perfected Malcolm Gladwell’s “blink” — the reflexive, addictive and tragically accurate placement of other Indians into bullock carts, scooters, airplanes and who knows what else. These issues exist in all countries, but in India, I could see the bigotry in high fidelity and hear the stereotypes in surround-sound — partly because it is worse in India, mostly because I am Indian.
    India’s wealth and lifestyle disparity is still impossibly great; I probably spent more on pizza than on my maid. She knew this too, because she was often the one who handed the pizza delivery guy his money. Everyone in India has to deal with this, but I coped in the worst possible way: by dehumanizing her and other people like her, ever so slightly, ever so subtly — chronic amoebiasis of the soul.
    Though my return to India failed, I came back feeling more optimistic than ever about India’s long-term success. India is regaining her leadership position — the position she held ever since humans were civilized, a position she lost only because of a few uncivilized humans (at least give us back our Koh-i-noor!). I know India will rule the future. It’s just that I’ve realized — I’ve resigned myself to the fact — that I won’t be a part of that future.
    I’m glad I went back to India, and I’m glad to be back in the U.S. Life has come full circle but the center has shifted. I didn’t go to India to find home, but I did find it; I now know where I belong. As Laozi might have said, sometimes the journey of a single step starts with a thousand miles in the opposite direction.
    (There was no Hindi movie on the flight back to the U.S. Or maybe I didn’t check.)
    Sumedh Mungee lives in the United States.

    Another story of road rage where some one lost his life for scratch.

    NEW DELHI: On a recent chilly evening, Gaurav Kumar eased his small truck onto a congested road in the Indian capital and accidentally scraped another vehicle in the honking mass of cars, scooters and motorbikes.

    Enraged, the other car's driver blocked Kumar's truck and attacked him. He pulled the 24-year-old deliveryman out and shoved him so hard that his head hit the sidewalk. An hour later, Kumar died in a nearby hospital.

    ``It was a small scratch. For this he lost his life,'' Kumar's widow, Prem Latha, said by telephone from the nearby town of Aligarh, where she lives with her 7-week-old daughter.
    Last edited: Nov 22, 2013
  3. asimpleson

    asimpleson Esperto

    Linea 1.3
    Never Wave !

    I have evolved with a better idea over the years. I simply put out my right hand out towards and above the mirror, that way the irate driver behind or ahead of you is thrown off into wondering what I am signalling him and really helps him cool off as his mind is diverted into thinking "look at this moron" or "what the ..." or something like that.

    And Volt, do whatever my friend, but do not wave :eek:, never wave! Some half-wit might think you are teasing him.
    Last edited: Nov 22, 2013
    1 person likes this.
  4. Ganges

    Ganges Esperto

    Driver Seat _/
    Grande Punto 1.3
  5. DRIV3R

    DRIV3R Esperto

    I was driving back home, a moron on a P220 cuts me from the perpendicular lane and he joins the main road which am traversing. Fine, staying calm.

    I had honked while he was trying to cut me, seems like he didn't like it. This is what he did. He blocked my way and made me follow him for a distance, I didn't honk but was following him. Staying calm still. Then he braked suddenly, purposely, watching my reflexes from his RVM. There, I lost my cool. But didn't do anything. He then zoomed away. Sigh!

    Sometimes I feel Chennai traffic and roads, both are better than Bangalore.
    Last edited: Nov 22, 2013
  6. rudresh

    rudresh Regolare

    Hyderabad, India
    Its getting very difficult not to get irritated while driving these days because of nonsensical driving of Autos and bikes. They come from 5 lanes from the left and go to right most lane for U-turn. You gotta be on right most lane to take U-turn: almost ABCD of driving. Bikes sneak in to slightest of spaces between cars and so do autos. Driving in high traffic hours where everyone is in a hurry has the same stress level as flying a Jet may be.

    Anyway, my car has been brushed by bikes 4-5 time mainly left side of front bumper where they just want to cut me from left and all the time I have let it go. Some guys said sorry, some showed attitude. Only once an auto hit me from back which resulted a dent in the boot, i couldn't control, chased him down and found he did not have license and registration. after meaningless argument where he showed Rs50 all he had, I had to move on.

    Music does help so does the soothing conversation with co passesngers. Its not advisable to drive with a terribly preoccupied mind. These day even I get irritated by the attitude/mistakes, I control by saying that I might end up doing more harm to the car and lose time. Most irritating thing these days are High beam of on coming traffic. It should be made mandatory pay fine if police catches that, then people will learn may be.
    Last edited: Nov 22, 2013
  7. I can't imagine how it will be in Mumbai,which is almost 100 sqkm smaller than bangalore but has higher number people and vehicals.

    I dont dare to drive a car in banagalore city during peak hours.it is not at good for gadi or body.
    prabhjot, sakartechin and DRIV3R like this.
  8. livelyyoungman

    livelyyoungman Regolare

    Linea 1.3
    Perfect start Mr. Rajan

    And I do this regularly. I listen and say Vedic Chants while I drive to and from Office. That not only helps me to stay calm; it also adds to better mileage.
    Last edited: Nov 22, 2013
    2 people like this.
  9. naruf1

    naruf1 Amatore

    Namma Bengaluru
    Ditto experiences here, espcially some people (read psycho) stop exactly in middle of the road for a co passenger to alight/board. When we are moving behind them at normal or decent speed.

    I usually tend to avoid them, however, in case intolerable, I clearly state that what they are doing is wrong and then carry on.

    But in the end it tends to end up with a quarrel for sometime with that person and later with co-passenger for correcting who is right or wrong.

    May be this is the experience we need to undergo, until we have seperate lane for two wheeler and other vehicles.
    Last edited: Dec 4, 2013
  10. SoumenPaul

    SoumenPaul Regolare

    Over the years I have developed the state of mind that I ignore the two/three wheelers and don't get angry on them, whatever circus they do infront of me.
    I have to develop the same for other vehicles too, however still trying for the same.
    Last week near Varthur Market, when I was driving peacefully and saw a bike coming from opposite side and wants to take right turn infront of me inspite of me blinking my lights.
    I stayed calm and stopped slowly so that that guy can do whatever he wants to, I stopped, he took turn, when he was about to come to my left another bike coming from my left and... BANG !!!....both collided and fell on the road with bad injuries to one of them.....:eek:
    I stood there for a while, people came from all direction, someone just told me to move on as I was blocking the traffic.

    The biker coming from my left, honking repeatedly did not anticipate that I am a decent driver and will stop for the oncoming bike.
    Last edited: Dec 4, 2013

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