Learning to Drive and my first accident!

I wasn't quite seventeen when I first started to drive, back in 1979. My brother's hand-me-down verrry used Triumph Herald was the first car I got to drive. I remember when he bought this car, I think for about Rs 4,000 (~$100) and then had the engine re-bored by a crew that worked right in our backyard! With all the repairs and a new paint job along with the imitation leather seat covers, I think the total cost of that car was about Rs 11,000 (~$275).

But a great car it was indeed! Newer models (long since discontinued, even back in '79), made entirely in India were called the Standard Herald but this original made-in-England Triumph still had a fantastic engine and an original floor-shift manual gear-box that worked great. I liked that car. It was easy to drive and just purrrfect for an underage kid learing to drive!

My brother gave me driving lessons too. Early some mornings, on a less-used road along the wonderful Marina Beach in Madras (now Chennai) where we lived. The mechanics of driving were simple for me but I still didn't have the confidence to drive in India's chaotic traffic. That breakthrough happened when I understood that I had good slow-speed control of the car. One night, I suddenly realized I had nothing to fear when I could control my beast at walking speed or less.

That was my first driving epiphany. Like losing the fear of water (or rather drowning) or of flying.

Despite the fact that I couldn't legally drive, I was allowed sometimes to drive to a friend's place across town and borrow VHS tapes for the family to watch. And I did this often enough that I eventually decided I should get a driving license. Despite the fact that I was only 17 then, and below the legal driving age of 18 that is still enforced in India, I did manage this feat by being 'recommended' by my friend's dad who was a high government official. You see, driving licenses in India didn't carry a date of birth at that time and all the application form wanted was your age - which I of course entered as 18, the minimum required.

The driving test was as easy as one could ever expect. I was asked to drive by myself - without the inspector in the car - to the end of the deserted lane in Adyar where the Road Tax Office (or RTO, the licensing authority) was and come back. My 'recommendation' ensured that no questions were asked and I got my license very quickly indeed.

India has amongst the most chaotic traffic conditions on the planet and the only rule that anyone ever learns is that there are no rules whatsoever! While I was a natural at the man-machine interface and could control my car like it was just another limb, I don't think I actually became a good driver until my first accident.

That was entirely my fault though I was stupid enough not to think so at that time. We were in a traffic signal, me and three school buddies, in my dad's silver-gray fiat. We'd just been overtaken by this rash driver in his Ambassador and he was stopped just in front of us. As the light changed to green, he took off, as rashly as ever and I accelerated after him while laughing and chatting with my pals in the back-seat. It was a horrified look from the back-seat that alerted me to the possibility that something was wrong. I turned around just in time and stamped on the brake when I saw that the traffic in front of us had screeched to a halt because of some obstruction. But the fiat's brakes simply weren't good enough nor was my experience sufficient for my instinct to take over. I braked too little, too late and our car crashed into the one in front.

Like in most parts of the world, you know whose fault a rear-ender is. In the stupidity of youth and incensed by the previous rash driving exhibited by the driver we hit, I refused to agree that it was my fault and the police came and registered a complaint. This actually went to court and I was asked to plead quilty by an old-timer employee in our family company. He ensured that the conviction and fine didn't get on my license and that was the best I could expect. Did I mention that the poor little fiat required a new radiator?

But I digress. This accident greatly sharpened by driving skills and my instincts and fortunately, I've not had a single accident since. It's been nearly 28 years now and while the traffic around has grown increasingly more chaotic, I've learned much and am proud to say, I am one of the few drivers in this city who is not exasperated by the streets of Chennai and perhaps the only one who doesn't honk at all!

I drive in Chennai by the rules of Chennai -which if you had absorbed every word of this post, you'd know is that there are no rules - and I drive elsewhere in the world like a gentleman or a beast, as the local culture demands. Welcome then to my blog on multi-cultural driving, my ramblings on how to drive in Rome as the Romans do!