Accidental wisdom

If you are in an accident in India, remember, it is never, ever, ever, ever, EVER your fault. Ever. This is why accidents here ALWAYS result in huge roadside shouting matches.

In most countries you have several well-defined rules. Such as, if you hit the back of somebody’s car, it’s your fault because you didn’t maintain a safe braking distance. If you’re coming out of a side street and are hit by a car, it’s your fault because it was the other person’s right of way.

In India, if you are drunk, driving a lorry without brakes and lights in a non-HTV zone down the wrong way of a one-way street, and you fall asleep at the wheel, swerve into somebody’s driveway and smash into their parked car, you must get out and shout, “EH!!! CAN’T SEE WHERE YOU’RE GOING AH? BLOODY BASSSTID!”

When you do get into an accident, people with strong opinions who have nothing whatsoever to do with anybody on the scene will miraculously appear and begin heckling. You’re fighting with the guy whose car hit yours and suddenly from behind a tubby man in a safari suit will start shouting to your opponent: “Hit him! It’s his fault only. I saw him! Hit the rascal!”

There will be many other people like this – if you’re lucky, some will be on your side. However, they won't be – no matter whose fault it evidently is – if:
1) You look as if you’re richer than your opponent
2) If your car or motorcycle is bigger or better than your opponent’s
3) If you can’t fight fluently in whichever local language applies
4) If you look even slightly scared or confused

Remember, the sympathy goes to the underdog first. If the underdog looks scared, confused or apologetic, the sympathy will instantly transfer to you, because you’re going to be the winner. Strange huh?

Nothing happened no?
Once, I was riding my motorcycle and approaching one of my favourite corners (its one disadvantage being that it was totally blind). I thought I’d take a nice swooping turn around it, but suddenly remembered that it had had policemen just on the inside the last time I was there. I wasn’t above the speed limit, but, just in case, I slowed down and took it with extra care. It’s a good thing I did.

Just around the apex was a public transport company bus barrelling at high speed down the wrong side of the road so that it could make it through the traffic light first. Because I wasn’t going too fast, I wasn’t too canted over and could swerve and get out of the way. But it was a close, close thing. I stopped because I was shaking. I decided that I must not let this go, so I turned around and came up alongside the bus, which was waiting for the light to change. The driver was seated above my head.

I asked him – not in the politest terms – what exactly he thought he was doing. He leaned out of the window and said (in Kannada), “What’s your problem? Nothing happened no?”

I opened my mouth to say something, but what could I have possibly said in response?

I then had one of those moments where a part of me disconnects and watches myself doing things. My left hand came off the handle bar, swung back and WHUPPPPATTTT!!!! I slapped him. I still remember his wide-eyed face, it was like John Paul Stapp on his rocket sled ride – cheeks rippling with the force of it. Then I turned my bike around, gave him two short parting words to ease the pain, and rode off. Five minutes later, when I got to where I was going, my palm was stinging terribly. I smiled.

Now if there’s anybody reading who’s put off by this and thinking things like “advocating road violence” etc., remember, this guy almost killed me just because he didn’t want to wait for a traffic light to change. If I had been going even slightly faster, I’d have gone straight under his bus. If I hadn’t died then, my life would probably be very different and painful even today – 10 years later.

Anyway, the point of that story was to illustrate the next powerful evasion tool: the statement, “Nothing happened, so what’s your problem?” This is probably the one most infuriating, insensitive things you could ever hear. I hope you’ll never use it, but it’s good to be prepared to
hear it. Practice your swing.

Don’t hit the walkers
In the underdog vs. the car story, obviously the worst thing you could do is hit a pedestrian or a cyclist. But if you do, just be aware that even if the person isn’t hurt, he or she may just keel over, feigning death/multiple fractures/agony so that they get a lot of money from you. If the underdog is honest and says she is okay, the tubby man in the safari suit will appear (WOP!) and assure her that she is mortally wounded. He will then turn upon you and list all her injuries, and demand several thousand rupees to fix them. The non-injured pedestrian will hear the amount and suddenly keel over with a newly discovered broken knee. You’d have to be a hostage situation negotiator to get out of this one without parting with a lot of money.

Leave the cops out
Unless your car is badly damaged, or somebody is injured, don’t even bother with the cops. Dealing with the police requires a fine balance of demonstration of social might, bribery and backslapping camaraderie. You might go in to report a dented door and suddenly find that your undamaged opponent’s car requires a hundred thousand rupees worth of chassis repair. “You can’t see it, but I know it’s there.” And suddenly you’re responsible for tiding him through this crisis with handouts, mediated by the police.

And the next time you complain about the horrible traffic snarls, think about this: would you want all those morons out there to be able to drive those fancy new cars of theirs at high speeds?