On Indian roads, traffic laws are optional art forms. A red light signals a race, zebra crossings are floor décor, and honking is the official language. Driving here isn’t about discipline but about improvising like a street performer—survival demands sharp reflexes, blind faith, and a generous dose of sarcasm.
1 After all, why fix behaviour when you can sell accessories with a green signal?
On Indian roads, rules are a comedy show. You cannot use earphones while riding a two-wheeler—it’s unsafe, they say. But a Bluetooth helmet? Oh, that’s perfectly fine! Because clearly, music and calls become safer when delivered through an overpriced helmet. As if the rider’s focus magically improves when the voice in their head comes from a “government-approved” gadget. Meanwhile, the same rider weaves through potholes, dodges cattle, and squeezes between buses like it’s an action stunt. Road safety here isn’t about logic, it’s about loopholes. After all, why fix behaviour when you can sell accessories with a green signal?
2 Buying ADAS in India is like buying a treadmill to use as a clothes hanger.
3 Supercars on Indian roads are like wearing a tuxedo to wade through knee-deep mud.
In India, you can spend crores on a supercar that hits 0–100 in seconds, but the only race you’ll win is dodging potholes deeper than swimming pools. Forget high speeds, you’ll crawl slower than an auto-rickshaw, praying the bumper survives that unmarked speed breaker. Traffic ensures your “beast” spends most of its life idling beside cows, honking scooters, and buses that think lanes are optional. That roaring engine? Reduced to background music for endless jams. Supercars on Indian roads are like wearing a tuxedo to wade through knee-deep mud—expensive, flashy, and completely useless against our world-class obstacles.
4 Ministers say " you go EV 1 will be in petrol" for safety.
Ministers keep telling us, “Buy EVs, it’s the future!” as if Indian roads are magically lined with chargers behind every pothole. Meanwhile, how many of them actually drive an EV? None—you’ll spot them in luxury SUVs, guarded by fuel-guzzling convoys that block half the road. They don’t know the pain of pushing an EV to the nearest charger or praying the battery lasts through a traffic jam with cows, autos, and buses piled up. For them, EVs are speeches and slogans. For us, it’s range anxiety, bad roads, and zero infrastructure. Truly, leadership by “Do as I say, not as I drive.” The Head of Minister of Road Transport and Highways of India own Petrol and diesel but he say to buy Ev.
5 Buying EV without charging.
In India, people are rushing to buy EVs like it’s the latest iPhone launch, without sparing a thought for where they’ll actually charge them. Who needs charging infrastructure anyway, when we have extension cords long enough to trip half the neighborhood? After all, isn’t it fun to fight for the only working charger at a highway dhaba, while praying the inverter doesn’t die? And of course, nothing screams road safety like a car running out of charge in the middle of a six-lane highway. But hey, at least it’s “green”—until the tow truck comes belching smoke to rescue you.
It’s funny how many proudly flaunt their knowledge of NCAP child safety ratings while buying a car, yet the moment they hit Indian roads, the “child seat” magically transforms into the parent’s lap in the front. Because of course, in India, airbags, sudden brakes, and accidents are powerless in front of parental love. After all, who needs proper child seats when one strong hug can apparently defy physics? Road safety awareness exists only until the delivery of the car, after that it’s “adjust karo.” Truly, we’re redefining modern safety standards—with tradition and a dash of recklessness.
Some bonus Facts
do you why because Tesla's Do developed the Features to deduct Cow (sorry Mother) sitting on the road or a street dog cross that road, or the simple hand gesture to stop so the the walking person can cross the road at any moment.
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