Communicating in India
An important communication tool in India is the horn. Every vehicle has one, and every vehicle uses it. You even see "Horn Please" painted on the back of trucks and autorickshaws. This is a language all to its own.
Typically, the smaller the vehicle, the bigger the horn. So if you hear, "BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!", you are probably being approached by a motorbike. This basically means, get the F--K out of the way. Small man, small bike, small...you know.
Sometimes you will hear a gentle, "beep-beep", which is quite civilized and means, excuse me, please, much appreciated if you would just scoot to the side so I don't accidentally clip you.
Once in a while you hear a playful horn, with a sort of a sing-song voice. This usually comes from something very large. As if to say, "Big thing coming, you know what to do. Isn't this fun???"
When I first got here, I hated the horns. And "hate" might be too soft of a word. I nearly jumped out of my skin each time I heard a horn. Now that I understand the language, what they are saying, I am okay with it.
But I admit, I do fight back sometimes. Rishikesh is spread along two sides of the Ganga River, and the only way to cross is by way of the two pedestrian bridges. By some twist of Indian fate, motorbikes pass for pedestrians here. So they use the bridges, along with people with loads on their heads, vendors with their pushcarts, cows, children, monkies. The motorbikes on the bridges shout the loudest. I've nearly been clipped numerous times. Foot traffic is supposed to conform to the flow of vehicular traffic, meaning you walk and drive on the left side of the road, like in England. I have yelled at many young men who have violated this rule, while confusing themselves with the handsome, dashing Bollywood stars of the movie scene here.
But the best thing happened today. I was crossing the bridge with a friend, tiny petite Jara from Belgium. A motorbike approached on our side of the traffic flow, on the wrong side, horn blaring. Jara stopped in front of him, threw her arms in the air and yelled, "shanti, shanti, shanti" ('shanti' means peace). Stopped the driver dead in his tracks. He was smiling as we walked past him, horn quiet. I guess that's the power of peace, called upon by a very small but powerful woman.
Typically, the smaller the vehicle, the bigger the horn. So if you hear, "BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!", you are probably being approached by a motorbike. This basically means, get the F--K out of the way. Small man, small bike, small...you know.
Sometimes you will hear a gentle, "beep-beep", which is quite civilized and means, excuse me, please, much appreciated if you would just scoot to the side so I don't accidentally clip you.
Once in a while you hear a playful horn, with a sort of a sing-song voice. This usually comes from something very large. As if to say, "Big thing coming, you know what to do. Isn't this fun???"
When I first got here, I hated the horns. And "hate" might be too soft of a word. I nearly jumped out of my skin each time I heard a horn. Now that I understand the language, what they are saying, I am okay with it.
But I admit, I do fight back sometimes. Rishikesh is spread along two sides of the Ganga River, and the only way to cross is by way of the two pedestrian bridges. By some twist of Indian fate, motorbikes pass for pedestrians here. So they use the bridges, along with people with loads on their heads, vendors with their pushcarts, cows, children, monkies. The motorbikes on the bridges shout the loudest. I've nearly been clipped numerous times. Foot traffic is supposed to conform to the flow of vehicular traffic, meaning you walk and drive on the left side of the road, like in England. I have yelled at many young men who have violated this rule, while confusing themselves with the handsome, dashing Bollywood stars of the movie scene here.
But the best thing happened today. I was crossing the bridge with a friend, tiny petite Jara from Belgium. A motorbike approached on our side of the traffic flow, on the wrong side, horn blaring. Jara stopped in front of him, threw her arms in the air and yelled, "shanti, shanti, shanti" ('shanti' means peace). Stopped the driver dead in his tracks. He was smiling as we walked past him, horn quiet. I guess that's the power of peace, called upon by a very small but powerful woman.
posted by No Day But Today | 7:00 AM
2 Comments:
love it :).. miss you
Reminds me of the time when I was in college in Bangalore, I rode in a friend's car to classes. The car had one of those tuneful horns which he used to blast from a 1/4 km away. I could tell it was him since it was a unique tune. Those days not many people had fancy horns, that made it a little easier. This was my warning to get myself and paraphernalia to the front door ASAP. How I dreaded that horn, I was always running late and this dude was always on time to boot. By the time I was in junior year, had my own two wheeler, no more scrambling!
Post a Comment
<< Home