Democracy

Slowly but insistently the level crossing gates dropped in front of us and we stopped with a clear view of the main railway line from Chennai to Delhi. On the other side of the crossing we watched a phalanx of vehicles forming up, across the width of the road with spaces in between filled with motorcycles, bicycles, handcarts and numerous pedestrians, boxes on heads.

From the solid bulk of traffic on both sides people pushed through the mass, ducked under the barrier and walked over the rails. Despite the shrill whistle of the Delhi express cyclists manoeuvred their bikes under the pole and walked across the rails in front of the engine. 

Only the passing of the trundling train produced a pause in the steady stream of people crossing the rails. Passengers standing in the open carriage doorways waved listlessly to the waiting population of this small West Bengal town.

When the dust settled the barrier still refused to lift. So the numbers crossing the tracks increased and impatient motorcyclists started to duck under the barrier. One family dismounted, Dad leaned the motorbike over to get it under the pole, Mum held the baby whist the oldest son stood and looked down the track to watch for the next train.  At a word from dad they all climbed back onto the motorbike and bumped over the two sets of tracks to repeat the procedure on the other side.

Only after the Chennai Express rumbled through did the barriers lift. Then the masses of traffic from both sides advanced to meet in the middle. A complete impasse of  too many vehicles with no room to pass. But accommodations were reached amid repeated impatient horn sounding and long periods waiting for impacted motorcycles to wriggle free.

Turning to our friend Chhetri we asked why people were not trained to drive. Why did motorists not look ahead to predict problems and drive accordingly. Ah he said smiling people just do what they want to do. It’s a free country after all, the largest democracy in the world. We drive democratically!