Mumbai’s traffic is severely congested due to high vehicle density, limited road space, and poor road conditions. This is something that even the Almighty Himself cannot avoid. It’s so crazy that no matter who you are or what you are driving, you WILL HAVE TO STOP AND FACE THE TRAFFIC CHAOS.
Every morning, you open Google Maps like a delusional optimist, thinking, “Today will be different,” but it is never different. It is always the same. Whether you leave at 7 am, 11 am, 3 pm or even 2 am – you will always be stuck in traffic, recalculating your life choices and wondering whether you even needed to leave the house at all. At times, maybe even Google Maps will say that it will take longer to reach your destination by car/auto than by walking.
Every Mumbaikar has said these famous words at least once: “Bas 20 minutes ka traffic hai,” “I will reach in 5 minutes,” and “This shortcut is faster, trust me.” I don’t know who started these lies, but it is a legacy now.
The worst part is the hope that you get when you are travelling by an Uber/Ola cab. The ETA (estimated time of arrival) will show “12 minutes left!” You may feel victorious and superior, and then suddenly you realise your vehicle hasn’t moved an inch for the last two hours. In the meantime, a stray dog may be overtaking your car at full sprint. The auto next to you may be playing songs at maximum volume and you have become deaf. Your driver has accepted his fate and is halfway through a nap. Meanwhile, you are busy texting your boss/friend “on the way,” while knowing damn well that you are closer to death than your destination.
Mumbai traffic takes hours to crawl. For some, a medical emergency is a nightmare, as a trip to a hospital can take over two hours instead of the usual 20 minutes. If you have a flight to catch, or worse, if someone dear to you is in an ambulance, maybe even God can’t help you.
How can we forget the near-miraculous skill of bikers, who slide through microscopic gaps between cars with seemingly impossible agility, delivering goods while navigating the chaos? These bikers deserve awards. The way they slide through tiny gaps is something even our “Bahubali” or Bollywood heroes can’t explain. Physics laws don’t apply to them. They will deliver your Swiggy/Zomato orders, your groceries, etc., with a backpack bigger than the bike itself. Traffic rules for them are just peanuts, and they consider their safety to be others’ responsibility. You will frequently find them hiding in small by-lanes leading to the main road, ready to jump in front of you at the last moment, to check your brakes and your reaction time. If you are driving, no matter how much you honk or try to squeeze through, they’ll zoom in front of you in a zigzag pattern at high speed. Meanwhile, you are just left wondering, sitting in your vehicle, if it is even worth travelling anymore.
Every time a car is stuck trying to reverse at a weird angle, someone’s going to say, “Pakka lady driver hoga,” because some people assume that only women are capable of bad driving/parking in the city. One must understand that women are trying to survive the same potholes, the same flying rickshaws and the same existential crises as you do.
There are autos who think they own the road. Just when you think you are about to drive safely, the auto-wallah next to you will decide to switch three lanes without signaling. They tend to utilise even the slightest gap in traffic, creating more traffic and more confusion. They also have that tactic of squeezing through spaces you thought didn’t exist. One minute you think you are moving, the next minute you are parked on the same spot. At some point, you will think to yourself – “What if I just abandon my car and live here?”
Indicators are just decorative items. People honk nonstop even when the signal is red, leading to noise pollution and anxiety. Why don’t they attach wings to their cars/bikes and fly? No one will hinder them in the sky. People don’t understand the basics. Red light means stop, and if you are honking unnecessarily at a red signal, you are a fool. No one will break the rule to allow you to go. Have patience. After all, it is just a matter of plus/minus five minutes. Maybe by honking, they think they will turn the signal green faster. But what is the use of honking when the person before you is also stuck due to someone/something before him/her?
Another shoutout to the people who casually cross highways/roads like they are taking an evening stroll in Bandra. No urgency. No fear. They tend to catwalk on the centre of the road, usually talking on their mobiles. Then there are people driving on footpaths and then honking at pedestrians.
There are harmless drivers identified by a large red “L” sticker on their cars. These are the people whose status is “I have a license but I don’t know how to drive.” They are mostly harmless, only testing your patience at times by being overly cautious or making moves that might make you question your own sanity. Hang in there, as letting them take that extra few moments to make a U-turn or pass through narrow lanes will help the traffic flow far more than blocking them and creating a jam.
There are those people who feel they have the road ownership certificate. They are unapologetic and will come head-on at you while screaming/honking/flashing with full confidence, demanding that you back off and give them the non-existent space they believe they deserve. What I hate the most about Indian traffic is the spontaneity of people—you never know where a vehicle will appear from. They can pop up from anywhere or stop anywhere suddenly without any warning.
There are the truck/bus drivers who drive their heavy vehicles zigzagging on the road, blissfully unaware of the laws. They make you wonder whether what you are witnessing is exceptional driving skill or plain ignorance mixed with stupidity.
The traffic gets worse due to uneven roads. It is difficult to ascertain whether the roads have potholes or potholes have roads. Year after year, crores are spent filling the same potholes in the exact same spots. The monsoon in Mumbai is actually a water park season wherein you find adventure sports of potholes and floating debris. Kyunki har pothole kuch kehta hai!
The situation is worsened by hawkers on the road, who not only occupy space but also get away with parking their vehicles everywhere. There are also illegally parked cars that add more menace to the congestion.
You will find people spitting gutka in the middle of the road by opening their car door while driving at 100 kmph. Some are deeply engaged in talking on the phone and then suddenly realise “ohhh they had to turn right,” and without any indicator, they hastily take a turn. It then solely depends on the expertise of the person behind them—or in front—how quickly they brake to avoid an accident. Then there are underage kids driving cars rashly. They don’t have a valid license, but their dads have enough money to buy them Audi, BMW and the traffic police.
At some places, there is no meaning to a One-way signboard. Even if you lawfully think it is one-way, you may never know when a vehicle will come from the front and scare or hit you.
Welcome to the circus of Mumbai traffic.
It is a personality trait. It builds character, tests patience and occasionally turns sane people insane. The thing is, it’s weirdly comforting too. You start recognising the same street dogs sleeping under the same tea stalls. You start picking your favourite pothole. You start bonding with random cab/auto drivers about how hopeless it all is. There is community in the suffering.
In fact, Mumbai traffic turns one into a philosopher. You genuinely feel you are participating in a live meditation session. By not succumbing to the frustration, one can find a sense of inner peace even in the midst of the overwhelming and chaotic traffic. There’s pride in saying, “Yaar, I survived 3 hours from Kandivali to Chembur and didn’t lose my mind.”
Traffic in Mumbai is so bad that by the time you reach your destination, your car model is already outdated. Nobody gives way to anybody. Everyone angles, points, and dives directly toward their destination. People glare and fight for space. All are equally determined to get ahead, leaving just scant inches. No one considers themselves responsible for the traffic jam but looks at others as the culprit.
We have no choice but to survive this. So the next time you are stuck at a signal, just remember—you are not alone. There are many more wondering if we should just abandon our vehicles and live on the streets. Maybe someday the roads will be clear. Maybe someday people will follow lanes and traffic rules. Maybe someday Uber drivers will stop saying “bas 5 minute aur” when they are still in Dadar.
Until then? We suffer. Together.
Mumbai’s traffic teaches you patience and a sense of hope – Ek atoot bharosa ki ek din traffic kam hoga. (An unwavering belief that one day the traffic will reduce.)
