I was inching forward at the crossing of Lansdowne Road and Lansdowne Terrace, opposite Ramakrishna Mission Hospital when boom a bus coming down at breakneck speed crashed into my left side and zoomed ahead regardless. The police on duty and bystanders rushed ahead and stopped the bus to reprimand him. Concerned that it could have been worse and I looked rattled. No cause for panic as I am a woman who is made of sterner stuff, I reassured them.

An argument ensued. I am not a very good driver and can collect zillions of negative testimonials but this was simply not my fault. Funnily all the passengers in the bus insisted that it was my fault. They hoped to scare me. The reason was obviously that they wanted to be on their way as soon as possible. I stood firm as did the bystanderss. A sergeant drew up and asked me to make a MCR (Motor Collision Report) at the local thana. He gave me details and procedure and I am resolute. I will!

Irony! While we were all arguing, standing near the recalcitrant bus another speeding monster almost ran all of us over amidst dada hochhe ta ki… etc…

The errant driver started the bus went forward and promptly stopped in the middle of the road on the Lansdowne Hazra crossing. The sergeant on duty shrugged indifferently when I asked why he didn’t protest. The bus was holding up traffic and the authorised bus stop was a metre away. He said that they were resigned to rule breaking as no action was ever taken and these Government employees as party workers were above reproach. Sounded familiar, though I am sure there was a nexus of mutual protection too.

This problem was marginally alleviated many years ago due to vigilant reporting by newspapers. These drivers and their khalaasis are not paid a salary. They are paid a commission on earnings. They wish to pick up as many passengers from all possible unscheduled stops. The same reason why public vehicles never take flyovers. A simple fixed salary will solve the problem and bring some order in the chaos. But the Government has obviously some convoluted reason for saving funds.

While driving in Kolkata we become fearless – negotiating bottlenecks, dealing with abusive males and non-chalant policemen. I have always picked up cudgels and fought relentlessly even with law makers who are law breakers. An instance among many comes to mind when a Sergeant abused me calling me an irresponsible meye chhele. That got my goat and gut. This was opposite the South City Mall. I was right and his comment was absolutely uncalled for. I just put off the ignition and demanded an apology. He wouldn’t budge, nor would I. The people around cajoled and coaxed and we both stood firm. About fifteen minutes of mayhem later he half apologised and we moved.

Some years down the line my family pleads with me to not pick up pungas with policemen as times are bad. Our Kolkata where the dadas always came to the rescue of a damsel in distress. Many decades ago with no cell phones my parents never worried when I drove on my own. Nowadays even with cell phones one worries continuously about loved ones – road rage, drunken driving, unhelpful policemen.

Meanwhile I am going to register my protest. Everyone thinks its a futile exercise. My dad rightly said as a citizen its our duty. I guess but the lingering feeling of dread that it will be a number in a musty file with no action pending remains!

So?! Is anyone listening… Media, Government, the powers that be?…