Close Call: Use of Cell Phones While Driving

Recently a stationary plane on Chennai airport got hit by an aerobridge. The collision took place because the aerobridge operator was allegedly talking on the mobile phone while the aircraft was trying to align itself. Few years back a train accident happened in the US and the driver was allegedly busy sending text messages and missed out on a red signal.

The grip mobile phones currently have over our lives is quite bewildering, thanks to their usefulness and portability. Probably no other gadget in the entire human history had such an intrusive influence. And people multitask to any extent to stay 'connected', often with disastrous consequences.

Indian roads are a stark reminder of this obsession. To begin with they were anyway not meant for the faint hearted, as potholes, glaring violation of traffic rules and jaywalkers (both of human and cattle kind) heaped misery on motorists and pedestrians alike. The advent of cell phones have further endangered the lives of those venturing into these roads.

Motorists use them with impunity, with least care for others safety or laws of the land. Though occasional reports of police fining such erring drivers do appear in newspapers, this has little effect on the situation on the ground as conviction rates are too low to act as a deterrent.

It's a worrying sight to see those behind the wheels of cars and other four-wheelers using cell phones in one hand and steering on the other. Cab drivers indulge in this perilous exercise while trying to locate the customer's houses, often in narrow by-lanes.

But when it comes to flirting with danger, it is the bikers who take the cake. With handsets held between tilted helmet-less heads and lifted shoulders, they chat and negotiate the traffic putting their own and others lives at risk. It has nothing to do with lack of awareness. All this is done with a willing suspension of all common sense and smug belief that they won't be penalised. Even if that happens they will be let off lightly.

For the police catching these 'in your face' offenders is easy, but it is quite challenging to nab those who have placed their phones inside the helmets close to their ears, using hands-free devices or blue tooths as they cannot be easily detected. Bluetooth devices attached with speakers are also frequently used for talking while driving. Though these devices may free your hand to operate the steering wheel or gear stick, but the risk of getting mentally distracted remains.

There are enough studies to indicate that use of cell phone while driving impairs concentration and reflexes. Some even go to the extent to state that it is as dangerous as drunk driving. Stricter laws and more intense surveillance could deter motorists, but there is no substitute to restraining oneself at least while driving, both for the safety of oneself and others.

Also Read: Bangalore Beat

IRCTC: We don't need no reservation ...

I vaguely remember a Reader's Digest joke in pre-IRCTC days, which was as follows: A foreigner goes to a railway reservation counter in India and said, "Excuse me if it is possible" ... Before he could finish the sentence the clerk interrupted, "In this world everything is possible". But when the foreigner asked for a ticket for a particular destination and date he said, "Oh on that date it is not possible."

A good number of train travellers may now be shunning the queues before railway booking counters, but their interface with IRCTC site no way makes their lives easier. The moment we log on to www.irctc.co.in the only icon that gets going is that of buffering with a message 'Connecting...'. During peak hours, especially when the Tatkal guys are hogging the bandwidth, it acts like the cyber world equivalent of Chinese torture.

The speed with which the IRCTC site loads makes me wonder whether the data packets are being transferred using Railway Parcel Service! Getting the 'plan my travel' page to load is not for the faint hearted. You should count yourself lucky if you attain your Abracadabra or khul-ja-sim-sim moment at 16th or 17th attempt.

But then it is not even half the battle. You need a nimble set of fingers to type in the station codes and passenger names. If the number of vacant seats is above hundred you stand some chance, otherwise its as likely as India winning world cup football.

After making the bookings the path through payment gateway to your bank account or credit card authentication is fraught with all kinds of dangers and you have to wait with baited breath and a prayer on your lips. Minefields such as 'service unavailable' and 'you have timed out' lie in wait to strike at the most unsuspecting and crucial moments.

Once you clear the payment getaway, take a hard look at the booked berths, whether they match with the preferences you had mentioned while booking. IRCTC often reserves its most lethal googlies at this step. If you have booked a berth for a senior citizen with lower berth as preference, chances are that he or she may get top or side upper berth! Or if you have booked for 4-5 persons, chances are that a couple of them may end in a different compartment.

Also Read: Bangalore Beat

A Moveable Feast

Think of Mumbai and the picture of milling crowds trooping in and out of trains comes to my mind. I guess for this 'maximum city' it has been a constant for at least three to four decades. Moreover with the city eating into adjoining suburbs and villages, the residents are spending a good part of their day (or for that matter their lives) in these trains.

Back in early nineties when I was staying there, these trains were bursting at the seams and then I had thought that it couldn't get any worse. But on a recent visit to the city I was in for a jaw-dropping surprise. Even at 11 pm on a Sunday it was difficult to get beyond the doors of a Virar local at Bandra station. The Western line travel seemed a mission impossible exercise - though mercifully I did find some toehold while travelling at the Central and Harbour lines.

Whether it was due to the advancing age or sheer lack of practice, I was woefully lagging behind the nimble-footed Mumbaikars in making a dash at those trains. After three-four unsuccessful attempts, thoughts of taking and auto or bus cross my mind, but I banish them after considering the agonizing traffic snarls. Almost the whole city seems to be dug up for some flyover or the other.

The trains have undergone a makeover from the nineties. Gone are the days of drab maroon and yellow compartments with small windows. The current wide-bodied bogies with larger windows seem less claustrophobic and more colourful. Most of them now have in-train public address system announcing the next station. But amid the saturation crowd one feels little inclined to appreciate all that. Probably it may be of interest only to someone like me on a short visit.

Another redeeming feature is the ticket vending machines and smart card. With them one can bid goodbye to long queues. Back in the 90s I remember sweating it out in those queues, which often used to snake out to the car parks or even adjoining streets and tempers would rise if any particular queue was perceived as 'slow' or if someone tried to sneak in. Really used to wonder as to how those railway clerks coped with such high-voltage pressure while dispensing tickets, especially in eternally-crowded stations like Dadar.  This particular station had (and still retains) the uncanny ability to populate any train that comes its way and at any hour!

My cousin had lent me his smart card and I found it quite easy to use and was a great time saver. However, the only downside was the moment I was done with it, I used to get surrounded by people with cash at hand asking “bhaiya, please get me a ticket also”. The sentiment of altruism does come to mind - but no room for so many.

While trying to meet up with a friend he told me to take the 'skywalk' on the Bandra East. Left me wondering what the Dickens that meant. After alighting at the station I climbed on the overbridge on the East side and it seemed as if the station has developed some huge tentacles. Those longish foot overbridges helped commuters avoid crossing those clogged roads adjacent to stations. Later I discovered many other suburban stations too had it, though it was conspicuously absent at Dadar, where probably it is most required.

The city seems perpetually on the edge, thanks to umpteen terror attacks. It gets almost paranoiac while travelling in trains, the target of some of those attacks. In the stations there are frequent announcements in Marathi, Hindi and English warning the commuters to avoid touching any unfamiliar object and requesting them to alert the police. Within the trains too these announcements keep coming ad nauseum. It all gives one an anything-untoward-can-happen-any-moment feeling. Makes one look gingerly at the motley assortment of bags, suitcases and lunch boxes placed on the luggage shelf of the train and pray to Almighty that no RDX lurks in any of them.

Back in the 90s it was not all that hunky dory either. The city was scarred by post-Babri Masjid demolition communal riots and a deadly 1993 serial blasts. The image of Mumbaikars being obsessed with the dhanda of making money, with little interest in politics got severely dented. Pehle aisa kabhi nahin hua, used to be the constant refrain among long-time residents and newspaper columnists had begun comparing the city with Beirut. Those were perhaps the early days of terror and with hardly any lessons learnt, these bloodbaths keep happening with agonizing regularity.