Brave boy – braving life with cheer!

Notes from a recent weekend getaway

A sudden flash flood had the Kadem stream in spate at the Kuntala waterfalls in Neredigonda Mandal of Adilabad on July 29, 2001. Tragedy struck a group of picnickers from Bellampalli town, catching them unaware. As the surging water washed away six people in the flash flood, there were many more stranded on the hillock, facing imminent death with the water level swelling. The brave act of a teenage fisherman swimmer who swung into action and saved many lives made headlines that year.

Kuntala waterfall at its best

On a recent weekend getaway to Jannaram Forest in Telangana, to experience the wildlife in the Kawal Reserve, a group of 5 of us from Hyderabad decided to take a detour from NH 44 at Nirmal and see a few waterfalls. Our first stop, the deserted Pochera waterfalls nestled in monkey infested ravine was a delight to watch. However, the waterfall itself was just like standing under the shower, the natural rock formations around chiselled by the gushing water at its best flow, were the only saving grace.

Our next stop was Kuntala falls. One of the star attractions for tourists from Hyderabad for its quantum of water that cascades down the stony face. Many a social media post is made beautiful by the proud pics of standing under the silvery waterfall. The expectation and the experience, however, were in stark contrast. In spite of a prolonged monsoon in 2019, the waterfall was a big let-down, there was hardly much to rave about, leave alone taking pictures.

There was something more to take back from the visit to Kuntala. One of our team members told us about meeting a young national bravery award winner years ago and how he saved many lives from drowning in the flooded Kadem stream. At the foot of the climb towards the hillock abutting the Kuntala waterfalls are a few shops selling snacks to tourists. Manning one of them is a non-descript bearded 35-year-old selling Tea, snacks, cold drinks and more.

My friend recognised him immediately as Putta Somanna, the man who shot into news almost two decades ago as a teenage bravery award winner. We asked him about the unfortunate day of July 2019 and how he rescued people from the floods. He recollected the events of that day.

Putta Somanna recieving the National Bravery Award 2001
from Hon'ble Prime Minister Shri AB Vajpayee. 

As the surging water washed away six people in the flash flood, there were many more stranded on the hillock, facing imminent death with the water level swelling. The young 16-year-old Somanna swung into action swimming across the dangerously gushing water and saved six lives, including three from a family of picnickers from Bellampalli. In a 6-hour rescue act, he ensured that the tourists caught in the floods were safe at the far side of the waterfall. With the arrival of villagers, police and forest dept officials, the rescue of the stranded people was accomplished. Later news spread of the selfless, brave act of Putta Somanna and he was recommended for the national bravery award 2001. He was awarded the National Bravery Award in 2002.

2001 Bravery Award winners with the President

Somanna showed us his proud album of photos, clicked during the award ceremony on January 26, 2002. Pictures with Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee, President KR Narayanan, Chief Minister Chandra Babu Naidu and many national and regional leaders were part of his album collection.

The young teenager did not bask in the laurels of the national award and went on to make a livelihood at Kuntala. Now married, Somanna runs the shop that not only sells wares for the tourists but also doubles as swimmer rescuer and a tourist guide, who knows the place like the back of his palm.  

With the real-life hero Putta Somanna on 02.02.2020

The picturesque waterfall at Kuntala, with its beautiful surroundings nestled in the dense forest, brings lots of visitors from across Telangana and nearby Maharashtra. There are many beautiful memories to carry back in the form of pictures clicked for social media bragging. Sometime next when you visit this place, pay a visit to Putta Somanna and have tea at his quaint shop.

This brave teenager-turned-young entrepreneur is braving odds and making a decent livelihood. Sometimes spending time hearing to their stories of courage brings cheer to them.

Meet real-life heroes for once!

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Pics Courtesy: Putta Somanna, Internet

Sport - Skill, Excellence, Entertainment...! Safe?

Sport, as a popular internet encyclopedia defines, includes all forms of competitive physical activity or games which, through casual or organised participation, aim to use, maintain or improve physical ability and skills while providing enjoyment to participants, and in some cases, entertainment for spectators.

While the World over, sports enthrals billions in various forms, some are quite barbaric causing physical injury and some are totally dependent on technical strengths like Motor racing. Skill plays a major part in sports - both mental and physical, however, there is always room for improvement. Sportspersons thrive hard to achieve success through relentless practice in pursuit of glory at the highest stage. 

The thrill and excitement created by the sport to its followers is the stimulant that draws spectators and money in Billions. 

Every sport has an element of risk in it, an element that rushes the adrenaline of both the sportsperson and its unabashed followers. One of the aspects that are governing the world of sports is the issue of safety. How life-threatening is a sport? An F1 car crash, a broken jaw of a boxer or a 5 and a half-ounce of leather hit by a marauding cricketer hitting a cheering kid in the stands... Every one of them has its perils, but ones that have been kept in check, most times. What baffles me is why do some sports exist?

That brings me to the incident in Kerala during a sports meet recently. Abheel Johnson was serving as a volunteer for the javelin throw event at the State Junior Athletic Meet. Since the hammer and javelin throw events were held simultaneously and the venues were near each other, Abheel couldn’t escape when the hammer, which was thrown by a participant, came directly to him. The hammer, weighing around 3kg, fell on his head from a distance of nearly 42 metres. Though he was rushed to the Government hospital and doctors performed emergency surgery, his health condition never showed any significant improvement. He eventually breathed his last. An accident caused by a 'sport' that can never be classified as a sport!

Hammer throwing, one of the throwing events in track and field, was developed into a sport centuries ago in Ireland, Scotland, and England. Legends trace it back in various forms to the Tailteann Games held in Tara, Ireland, around in 1829 BC. Centuries later Celtic mythological hero Cuchulainn was said to have gripped a chariot wheel by its axle, whirled it around his head, and threw it farther than any other mortal. Wheel hurling was later replaced by throwing a boulder attached to the end of a wooden handle. Among the ancient Teutonic tribes, forms of hammer throwing were practised at religious festivals honouring the God Thor.

Unlike international sports circuits, the safety aspect of hammer throwing is much debatable. The mandatory safety net around the thrower is minimally visible in training centres, The trajectory or the angle of the throw on the field too is quite unpredictable. 

The shot put and Javelin throwing events have acceptability of the landing area and I find it reasonable to be continued as a 'sport' showcasing one's physical strength in hurling objects. However the same cannot be said of the hammer throw. So, what is achieved through this throwing sport but for replicating the whirling of a chariot wheel with its axle of a bygone primitive era?

When tragedy strikes sportspersons, as has been the case from Raymond Chapman to Ayrton Senna to Sarah Burke to Philip Hughes and many more, we're often reminded that the athletes are not just a statistic in the game's annals, they are human beings. Then there are incidents that have effected the spectators, the bystanders, the involuntary participants in sport.

It's time to revisit the definition of sport - Hammer throwing for one is not!

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Pics: Internet

Surprise at the Airport!

Monday early morning flight home

She had completed her second semester of Masters in Health Psychology and Cognition. It was a long break before she came back for the final stint in the university. Nikitha decided to spend the 8 weeks holiday with her mother back home in India. Bidding goodbye to the North Carolina University campus was tough, for now. She had some wonderful time there and over the past few months, learnt a lot of new things, grew to love the university and the life in the campus. She had a new friend who really made her feel at home.

Sarayu stayed 50 km from the University in a little suburb. She was from Bangalore and was studying with Nikitha, they both were travelling back together up to Mumbai on Monday. Over the weekend both went shopping for gifts for their family, Sarayu bought a gift for her aunt who stayed in Hyderabad and Nikitha volunteered to hand it over to her. After shopping, they had dinner together at a Chinese restaurant and stayed overnight at Nikitha's room, where they saw a spooky mystery movie that scared them to wits.

Sunday morning, Sarayu left for her home, the plan was for Nikitha to pick her up at 11.00pm on her way to the airport for the 3.30 am flight.

The day went by with packing her suitcases, cleaning up the room, putting away her books and study material in the racks. Nikitha was tired and it was 5 pm when she finished, she had coffee and slept for a while. A couple of hours later, she woke up startled, images from the previous night's movie haunted her, seemed more like a nightmare. There was eerie silence in the room, which was dark. She switched on the lights and looked outside the window; the streets were deserted. Suddenly she felt scared, a chill ran down her spine. The loneliness was uncomfortable and she desperately wanted to have company.

Nikitha showered and hurriedly had sandwiches for dinner and decided to leave early to meet her friend, and from there to the airport.

At 9 pm she booked a taxi and left for Sarayu's home. Her mind was racing, she did a quick checklist of all the things she had packed and the double checked her handbag for the flight tickets, passport and other documents. they were all in place. A half hour later as she paid the taxi and reached Sarayu's apartment on the 3rd floor, she was shocked to see the door locked. She quickly dialled her mobile. It was switched off. There was a note on the door which said, "Away for 8 weeks"!

Why did she leave two hours before she was to be picked up? Why didn't she inform her? Hope everything was alright? Nikitha couldn't control her thoughts. As she alighted the elevator and walked on to the porch, she tripped on a flower pot and fell. She got up, grabbed her bags and suitcases and ran towards the gate to a waiting taxi. "Airport"! she screamed and hopped in with her luggage. It was over an hour's drive. Midway, as the taxi pulled into a gas station for refuelling, she hopped out and entered the convenience store. She bought a can of orange juice and as she rummaged through her handbag to pay, she went pale. The passport was missing.

The shock didn't last long as the clerk at the payment counter handed her passport and said "here, is this what you are searching?" Nikitha stood dumbfounded. "How did it land with you”? she asked. The lady said, "never mind, you have a good flight". She was perplexed and a strange feeling encompassed her. She got back into the taxi and felt the driver was smiling. Why was he smiling, did he know anything about the passport? She didn't dare to ask and looked out of the window. The stars in the dark sky were shining bright. Thoughts of going back home and meeting mom, friends, coffee at her favourite joint momentarily brought a smile on her face. She had hardly closed her eyes with the thoughts when the bright lights of the airport ahead made her sit up.

She reached the airport around 10.45pm it was bustling with passengers travelling to various parts of the world. At the entrance, the security handed her a can of orange juice and said: "You forgot this"? Nikitha stood in her tracks! What was happening? How did she leave the can in the store? how did it get here? Was the taxi driver following her? No, he left from quite a distance. This was no coincidence, she started sweating and was lost in thought. "Hello! have a nice flight Ma'am," said the security guy with a beaming smile. She looked at him and vaguely smiled back. What else was in store?

Walking down to the Baggage check-in, she felt she was being followed, she constantly looked around for Sarayu, she was nowhere in sight. It seemed surreal. The passport and the juice can be handed to her by strangers who she didn't know. After she checked in her suitcases, she took her boarding pass and proceeded to the immigration desk, a long line of international travellers was ahead of her. She craned her head to see if her friend was anywhere around. She couldn't spot one familiar face.

After the stamping of her passport and immigration, she went through the security check and walked across the lounge towards her gate - the flight was still almost 3 and a half hours away. She decided to walk into the shopping arena and look for some mementoes. She bought some magnets and key chains and moved to a book shop.

The long flight would need a nice book she thought and browsed the stacks. She found a romantic thriller and picked it up, at the payment counter she was handed a gift-wrapped box with a note ‘For You’. "What's this?" she exclaimed. The salesgirl said, “it's for you”. “Who gave it? Are you sure, it’s for me? I don’t know why I would want to take it”?

"You will know when you get into the second room on the left in the privilege lounge", the sales girl replied.

She was aghast. ‘Was this a trick? Is someone stalking me?’, her thoughts meandered.

Nikitha started walking fast towards the lounge, less scared and more inquisitive to find out the source of her gift and solve the puzzle trailing her.

The privilege flyers' room was shut, she opened the door and it was dark inside. She was about to leave the room when a tiny light flickered in the middle of the room. She garnered courage and entered in. Just as she approached the light, there was a loud roar and the room was washed in bright light.

Holding a cake was Sarayu, as the airline staff, around her, sang in chorus “Happy Birthday to you”! Nikitha had tears in her eyes and checked her watch, which flashed 00:00!

She hugged Sarayu and punched her on the cheek. As tears ran down her cheeks, she heaved a sigh of relief, for once it had nothing to with disappearing people, haunting noises, knocking doors or staring billboards!

Nikitha dropped to her knees, blew the candle on the cake and felt like a celebrity!

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Ps: Nikitha later learnt that Sarayu was hiding behind the bushes as she tripped and dropped her passport, her friend picked it up and followed her closely in another taxi.

Pic courtesy: Internet

An all new experience!

Facing the camera - discussing cricket and analysing pros and cons for a web tv channel has been quite an exhilarating experience!

Cricket has been a passion for over four decades and I have judiciously followed the game from the early 1980s - on ABC, BBC & AIR via radio commentary and then Live on TV, and yes, some great matches on the ground too. I have played the game at a much amateur level having started as a wicket-keeper batsman to turning into a spinner in the later years. I also had the opportunity to officiate as an umpire in over a hundred local T20 league matches - mostly organised by my erstwhile cricket club Frisco.

With a fair understanding of the nuances of the game and the players in international cricket, it was obvious I took to social media to post my own armchair critical versions through micro and macro blogging.

The big break

The 2015 Cricket World Cup got me an opportunity to ghost-write for a retired South African international cricketer. The daily columns were featured in a popular international website. It was one of the most defining moments for me as a writer and it surely opened up many other avenues. 40 days and 40 match reports got me critical acclaim for thinking like an accomplished world-class cricketer, a perspective totally new for my style of writing. While I wanted to continue writing ghost columns, I didn't get another chance of the same standard and had to wait four years and another World cup to do something different.

Facing the camera – a first

As part of a totally crazy cricket following closed user social media group called Pure Cricket, I have been analysing much cricket for the past few months with the ‘gang’. It was during IPL, we hit upon the thought of creating an innovative buzz with our knowledge. Initially, the plan was to launch a dedicated cricket website with daily pre and post-match analysis starting with the World cup 2019.

Then came the brilliant idea mooted by my friend Sairam Chavali, who initiated a discussion with the popular web tv portal HyBiz.tv, about a daily short 3-5-minute sponsored analysis on the forthcoming World Cup matches. The channel owner, old friend Rajgopal, jumped on the idea and had Sairam and me summoned to his studio for a brief. In no time we were shooting short capsules without much preparation or cuts, takes and re-takes.

The first set of videos started bringing in much feedback. While most were congratulatory messages, there were also quite a few tips on body language, posture, content, attire and even personal grooming. "You seem stiff and not relaxed". "Could you not look at the camera a little more"? "Why those blazers"? "Can you speak a little more naturally"? “Can you not colour your hair and shave off your moustache”? "You are too conscious of the camera". "Where is the innovation"? - Well there were countless messages of advice and all were accepted in right earnest – some were put into practice too.

Then there were messages from professionals who gave tips not just on content but also on technical aspects. Like an ardent cricket fan said, "Why don't you both talk about the advantage of left-arm seamers"? And a movie maker friend said "Change the seating position to an arc facing each other and crop the screen space to focus the speakers in the centre" - Well, I was overwhelmed. There was an air of acceptance in what we were doing and sincerely as amateur presenters facing the camera for the first time Sairam and Me have learnt a few good things and look forward to inculcating our learning for better output.

It’s always nice to be involved with something one is passionate about – in a small way I have been pursuing my unbridled passion for cricket through these initiatives.

Let’s see where this takes me!

Until the dawn of another new match day, it’s Stumps!

The Summer nights

Friday night: The air conditioner in her bedroom was set to 22° C, but the clock approaching midnight was giving Nikitha an eerie sensation. She wiped the drop of sweat off her brow and was waiting for a repeat of the last two nights.

Wednesday 11th:

Her bedroom on the first floor was in the corner of the huge house, and she was alone. Her parents slept on the ground floor. There was a big hall - a living room outside her bedroom that opened to a balcony on the rear. A huge mango tree outside covered most of the balcony. She spent most of the monsoon season under the tree with the living room door left open. Summer, however, was different. The summer holidays were scorching and the nights were no less tormenting, but the AC had its effect and she felt comfortable.
After a sumptuous dinner and chatting with her friends online for over an hour, Nikitha slipped into her bed to watch her favourite thriller series 'Sherlock' on Netflix. It was almost midnight and she felt she heard someone knocking on the rear door. She got out of bed, walked to the end of the living room and opened the back door to see the source of the knocking. She switched on the lights around the house and peeped out, there was no one.
The first floor had no way up from the ground except the internal stairs. The walls were high and it was impossible for someone to scale them and reach the rear door and knock. She went back to her bedroom and opened the front door to the small balcony facing the road and saw the gates were locked. The street was washed in lights from the pole across the house and not a soul was outside.
She looked below - her red car was gleaming in the street light, the stray dogs which usually barked at the slightest of intrusion from strangers were sleeping too.
She closed the door and went back to her laptop. The episode was thrilling and soon she forgot the knocking on the door. An hour later she shut the laptop, put her mobile phone on silent and dozed off.

Thursday 12th: 

Nikitha woke up early and opened the eastern balcony door to view the sunrise, the mango tree swaying in the breeze. She looked up at the high unreachable mangoes and noticed they were still a few weeks away from ripening. As the day progressed, she decided to stay home all day and finish a few of her college summer assignments and catch a nap in the afternoon.
As she showered late and got into comfortable cotton clothes for the day, her mother called out for lunch in the afternoon. Nikitha remembered the previous night's knock on the door but did not want to tell her mother about it. After lunch, she slept for a couple of hours and later called up her friend to meet up in the evening.
Nikitha returned home past 8 pm and decided to finish two episodes of Sherlock. After completing the first episode of season two, she took a break and had dinner with her parents. It was 10.30 pm as she returned to her bedroom. Over the next half hour, she was giggling over funny text messages with her friends on chat. And soon, The Hounds of Baskerville beckoned her, and she got involved in the thriller. Halfway through the episode, she was startled by the knock on the door. There were three continuous knocks and then it stopped. She paused the viewing and sat up straining her ears. It started again, the knocking on the door. This time it was louder, and distinctly human.
Already affected by the goings on in the web series, she felt a chill run down her spine. Nikitha garnered all her courage and walked to the end of the living room and stood near the door. There was silence as she slowly opened the latch of the door and peeped out into the dark. She switched on the balcony light and stepped out. There was no one and nothing that could have caused the knock on the door. Perplexed she stood near the door for a few minutes as the mild breeze dried the sweat on her face.
She smiled, wondering if it was the effect of the thriller she was watching that made her conjure the noises in her mind. She shut the door and walked back to her room. Just as she was about to sit on her bed, the knocking began again. And this time, they did not seem to be human. It was louder and relentless, almost like a pounding on the door. Terrified now, she closed her eyes and ears tight and prayed for it to go away. The noise subsided. She switched off her laptop and jumped into bed. It took her a few minutes to realise the knocking had stopped completely. Wearily, she slipped into a deep sleep.

Friday the 13th:

Nikitha woke up late and the first thoughts were to get to the door. The sun had risen high into the sky, and it was bright and hot outside. There was no breeze and the temperature was quite high for the morning. She looked up at the clear sky and knew that the day was surely going to be a scorcher. She had already made plans to go for a movie and lunch at the Coffee Shop with her friends.
At the breakfast table, Nikitha told her mom about the sounds of the previous night. Her mom was calm and concealing her anguish- she patted on her daughter's back and said "stop watching late night shows on the laptop and sleep early, you will be alright". She smiled, but wondered- was her mother thinking she was hallucinating? In their 4 decades at that house, her parents had never heard of any burglary or even a thief intruding, it was one of the safest localities in the city. Could there be some supernatural beings at work? Ghost?! Hmmmmm… She stopped thinking of that.
The cute animation detective movie cooled her senses, as did the company of her chirpy friends. After a lunch of pasta and mojitos, she drove back home late afternoon in her car. She headed straight to her laptop and completed the unfinished Hounds of Baskerville mystery.
It was 5 in the evening as dark clouds formed in the sky, dust storms gathered and the summer evening became unusually pleasant with a drizzle. Two hours later, it turned into a thunderstorm. The rain started pounding and the street was filled with gushing water. After dinner, as Nikitha strolled into her bedroom balcony, the lightning persisted and with a loud bang the power went off, and after was finally restored after what seemed to be the entire night but was just an hour.

The air conditioner in her bedroom was set to 22° C, but the clock approaching midnight was giving Nikitha an eerie sensation. She wiped the drop of sweat off her brow and was waiting for a repeat of the last two nights.

A loud bang on the back door startled her. She screamed and ran down the stairs to her mom, and that night she slept in her parents’ bedroom.

Saturday 14th: 

The sun was back in the sky, shining and bright and the devastation of the previous night was seen all around the house. Tens of fallen mangoes, mostly broken, were picked up in buckets.

Nikitha and her mother went to the first-floor rear balcony and opened the door. There was a huge branch felled by the stormy winds of the night sprawled on the balcony.

The branch that swayed in the winds and knocked on the door, was lying on the floor, silent!

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When communication wasn’t instant but effective!

In the age of instant communication – the lack of response, acknowledgement and failure to reach out to people is quite simply distressing!

In the mid-1980s, when I was just out of school, summer holidays meant whiling time with friends playing cricket all day. One of the good things about those days was how everyone knew where anyone was, almost at all times. We could contact the entire team to inform the next day's match venue and opponent with ease. Well, I am speaking of days when there was no telephone - not even the good old land line.

The network was simple- inform one of the mates who connects to three-four others and the communication is done. Then as we got into college - there were the various 'Adda'. Typically the Irani cafe hangouts. Good Luck Cafe Safilguda or Akbar at Paradise or Sun Cafe in Tarnaka or many such addas across the twin cities- you knew exactly where to find the gang or one or two of the representatives. While these were there, there was no beating the simple staright go visit friend's home - scream out names from outside the gate rather than knock on the door, what better way to communicate than in person! I remember when a friend once called me to his home and I found a locked door, I just left a message scribbled on piece of paper that had lasting effect - the apologetic dost rushed home on seeing the note that read "I came, I saw, I vent!". Messages were innovative, crisp and clear, they were not instant but they were effective.

Among other modes of communication was the fixed messenger - the owner/manager of the Adda - the one who sits in the Cafe counter all day - passes on the message.

Then as we got into jobs in the early 1990s - there was the office phone - and the friendly telephone operator who always took a message from mates. Soon there were residential landline phones and messages, match schedules, movie plans, meeting spots were conveyed to whoever manned the phones at homes.

During the mid-1990s was launched a small device with a screen that carried scrolling text - it was called a Pager. Just like the mobile phone which came later, it would display text messages to a maximum of 150 characters. A revolution of sorts for most of us sales guys who could be reached with messages on the move. Messages ranged from come home early, contact boss, meet client, cricket match time, date, venue to lunch dinner, party plans.

I still remember one of messages to a friend who borrowed my bike helmet and didn't return it for a week. It read "I'm worried about my head and it's time I had it covered, you could help" - That evening my helmet reached home with a note – ‘You scared me’!

While mobiles phones made their presence in our lives in late-1990, they were expensive and calls were mostly incoming and then there was the 'Missed call' - an effective tool too!

While the Millennium brought much changes in the communication technology, the advent of social media across platforms and the internet data going economical - things turned on their head.

We are in the age of instant communication - where you reach any corner of the earth in matter of seconds, broadcast happenings, share opinion, contact multiple people at the push of a button - all instantaneously!

But then… wait…!

I started this piece of writing to rant about the abject lack of acknowledgement of the Millennial to messages – In the age of the ‘twin blue ticks’ we have the procrastinators with the abject disregard for accepted norms of communication - two-way communication.

Digressing a bit, I have seen unread emails pile up in thousands. I actually saw a colleague with 33,000 unread mails in his Yahoo Inbox. He said most of them were unsolicited marketing mails. Simply because he subscribed to mail lists and left the inbox untouched for many days. Well, one can never catch up on that, and you got there with bad habits. The easiest solution is to unsubscribe from lots of lists, disable email alerts from social media, set up filters, decide what email you care about and only read that. The remaining just delete them all! For the record – I never ever leave an unread email in my Inbox. I have an OCD for Zero Inbox.

Coming back to my rant! The instant communication through platforms like SMS or Messenger or the craze of the nation – Whatsapp is not really as instant as we think they are, these days.

Why do people not respond to messages, not all times it’s about money (not just soliciting, but failing to return too) - sometimes simple requests for help go unheeded.  Have you heard of Whatsapp with 5000 unread messages from about 40 odd contacts lying for months? I am appalled to hear of people with thousands (yes, tens of thousands in some cases) unattended notifications on their mobile screens. Why can’t we be frugal in maintaining zero unread notifications? Most of these are from Apps that have been installed for the heck of it, on the move. These apps are fighting for your time.

It appears these Apps are taking advantage of neurological weak spots. A lot of people don't seem to be able to even figure out how to slow down or stop the notifications to a more manageable level. Procrastination is not the solution.  

Just go to that message from the well-wisher  – Someone who took time to wish you on your special day, ignore it or acknowledge it, but don’t leave it unread. You never would want to be in a similar situation, some day!

Going Mobile while mobile with disdain

Mobile phone mania on the roads goes unchecked and there is no end in sight!

Today morning while waiting at the Habsiguda x roads signal, I heard a gentleman speaking loudly beside me, I assumed he was talking to his pillion, and turned to the side to see he was on his phone, giving instructions to a plumber about some leaking pipeline in his house. 

Guess, it’s summer and every drop of water saved helps! But was it necessary to engage in a conversation in the middle of the road while riding a two-wheeler? Even as the signals turned green, he continued to chatter with scant respect for the traffic rules or the morning rush of vehicles all around.

Talking or texting on a mobile phone while driving a vehicle is dangerous, but that doesn't stop most Hyderabadis from doing so. Every day I see dozens of two-wheeler and four wheeler drivers talking on phone while driving. While the car drivers use innovative ways to talk on speaker phone or Bluetooth enabled car loud speakers, it’s the two-wheeler drivers who are blatant in their abuse of the law.

Most riders drive with their head tilted precariously balancing the phones between their ear and the shoulder even as they manoeuvre their bike oblivious to the zig zag path they take, putting both themselves and the others on the road to danger. There are those who slide the mobile phone in their helmets, enough to block the ear from hearing anything other than their callers’ voices and the incessant honking on the roads falls on deaf ears. Then there are those who use handsfree earphones or Bluetooth devices to speak on phone or hear to loud music on the go.

What does the law say?

Section 177 of the Motor Vehicle Act, 1988, prescribes a fine of between Rs 100 and Rs 300 for using mobile phone while driving. If such an action causes inconvenience or pose a hazard to road users, the fine is Rs. 1,000 and the compounding fee is Rs 500. In fact, the police have even started imposing a fine of Rs 2,000 for causing inconvenience or driving rashly while on phone, but the malady is unending.

The use of cell phones while driving is rampant and the accidents that are caused due to the distracted driving is also on the rise. But who cares? Looks like the world would end if the call is not taken or the drive is not completed in time without halting for two minutes to finish the conversation.

Though the penal provision for talking on the phone while driving is harsh, it has so far failed to work as a deterrent. This is perhaps due to the traffic police's poor prosecution record. Only a handful of motorists are challaned for the offence, while thousands go scot free every day.

A complaint on Twitter tagging the Hyderabad Traffic Police and the City police elicited no response from the law enforcement. Guess, they are feeling the summer heat and cooling themselves turning a blind eye to the happenings on the roads.

The obsession of mobile phones has increased in the past decade and the smart phones have only made the humans dumb. Senseless usage is perilous and strict measures taken up on a war footing by the police is the only way to end this ever growing mania!

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Pics Courtesy

Biker with white helmet - Clicked by me today (01.05.2019) at Habsiguda, Hyderabad.

Rest: Internet