India’s relationship with speed bumps is, to put it mildly, complicated. While traffic calming measures are essential for road safety, their implementation in Indian cities often feels like an art installation gone wrong; if that art installation was designed by someone who really, really hates suspension systems.
Let’s talk about the elephant in the room (and no, not the kind you might occasionally find ambling down an Indian highway): our speed bumps are often poorly designed and haphazardly placed. In many residential areas, you’ll find them appearing like unwanted plot twists, sudden, jarring, and sometimes coming in pairs so close together that they might as well be married; like two massive speed bumps barely two meters apart. It’s as if someone thought, “If one bump doesn’t slow them down, the second one will definitely destroy their vehicle’s undercarriage.”
The real issue isn’t just their abundance or size; rather it is the lack of standards to be followed and proper implementation.
In developed nations, speed bumps follow strict engineering guidelines of specific heights, slopes, and spacing. They’re well-marked, properly lit, and maintained regularly. In India, however, it sometimes feels like we’re following the “jugaad” philosophy of “Let’s just pile some concrete here and call it a day.”
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This cavalier approach has tragic consequences. On dark, rainy nights, unmarked or poorly marked speed bumps become lethal obstacles. What’s meant to prevent accidents ends up causing them; a cruel irony that demands immediate attention.
Such an example can be dated back to March 2020, when it was reported that a 51-year-old woman in Bengaluru fell from a speeding motorbike and died on the spot after it hit a speed breaker. And this was not a single case; many two-wheeler injuries and deaths in Bengaluru are caused by badly built road humps. It seems like “speed thrills but, with a mind-boggling mix of poorly designed, unscientifically laid road humps, it kills”.
In majority of cases in India, we like to play the game of North vs South; however, it emerges as speed breakers and their makers do not keep biases, they equally torture both the ends of the nation. A case from 2019 from Amritsar denotes the case of Mehnga Singh Saini Marg, usually referred to as College Wali Gali, near Khalsa College for Women, in which the stretch of around 1 km has 17 speed breakers!!! Since these are constructed without the guidance of some expert, these add to the woes of commuters who are already troubled by frequent traffic jams in the city.
Ok fine, you may think that these are a handful of year old cases and such a situation is now not seen. Then let me introduce to the recent affair from October 2024, from Gurugram, where a viral video capturing vehicles seemingly “flying” over an unmarked speed bump on Gurugram’s Golf Course Road had sparked a storm of social media reactions and safety concerns. Several users joined the digital chit-chat, debating the need for a speed bump on this stretch of road, noting that the road’s design shouldn’t have speed bumps.
Sarcastingly, and beautifully, one user wrote that “the speed bump is intended to slow down traffic due to U-turns, but poor implementation without proper signage defeats the purpose. It’s like our cricket team these days, good intentions, but poor execution”. So this problem of unmarked, poorly designed speed breakers were there in the last decade, are in the present decade, and will probably remain in the next decade as well, because we all know the lethargy of the Indian SYSTEM!
Well, it’s not just troubling ‘WE, THE PEOPLE OF INDIA’, but it also compromises our VISHWA GURU image in front of foreign folks!
While Indian drivers adapt to these conditions (necessity being the mother of invention), foreign visitors often find themselves overwhelmed. It’s not just the speed bumps; it’s the entire ecosystem of unexpected road features that makes Indian cities particularly challenging to navigate. We’ve inadvertently created an obstacle course that requires local knowledge and years of experience to master.
Indian license holders can generally drive comfortably in most countries worldwide. The reverse, however, isn’t true. Foreign drivers, even the players with decades of experience, often find themselves entangled, confused and irritated by Indian road conditions. It’s not because they’re less skilled; it’s because our infrastructure sometimes feels like it was designed by someone playing SimCity with a grudge against motorists.
So, what’s the solution? While criminalizing poorly designed speed bumps might be extreme, we desperately need standardization and enforcement that enforces clear guidelines for speed bump design, placement, and marking, strictly enforced by municipal authorities; followed by professional engineering where speed bumps should be designed by traffic engineers, not well-meaning but unqualified individuals or residents who fancy themselves amateur road safety experts.
The end is not here, we also need regular maintenance to upkeep including repainting, reflector replacement, and structural maintenance, and ofcourse, the voice of common man, aka the public consultation which comprises that before installing traffic calming measures, local authorities should consult with residents and traffic experts to determine the most effective and safe solutions.
The humor in this situation, if we can call it that, lies in our unique ability to turn a simple road safety feature into an adventure sport. In most countries, speed bumps are minor inconveniences. In India, they’re conversation starters, suspension testers, and occasionally, impromptu launch ramps for the unsuspecting motorist. But let’s put jokes aside, beacuse life is serious, this is a serious issue that requires utmost attention. While our authorities shouldn’t completely remove speed bumps, they serve a vital purpose in traffic control; we need to ensure they’re helping, not harming. Every poorly designed speed bump is a potential hazard, and every unmarked obstacle is an accident waiting to happen.
The situation becomes even more complex in emergency scenarios. Imagine ambulances navigating these obstacles while trying to reach hospitals, or fire trucks responding to emergencies. Every second counts in these situations, and poorly planned traffic calming measures can cost precious time. Perhaps what we need is a complete rethink of our approach to traffic calming. The goal should be to create safer streets without turning them into obstacle courses. We need solutions that protect pedestrians and residents while not putting drivers at unnecessary risk.
It’s better if our authorities understand road safety isn’t just about slowing down traffic, it’s about creating an environment in which all road users can coexist safely. Our current approach to speed bumps often feels like we’re solving one problem by creating several others. Let’s hope for a future where Indian roads are known for their safety features rather than their safety hazards. Until then, drivers will continue to navigate our streets with the skill of rally drivers and the patience of saints, while suspensions across the country cry out in collective anguish.
After all, in the end, we want our roads to slow people down, not absolutely destroy their will to drive. And maybe we can achieve this without making every journey feel like an impromptu automotive gymnastics routine. The next time you encounter one of these monstrous speed bumps, remember, you’re not just experiencing a traffic calming measure, you’re participating in a uniquely Indian tradition of turning simple solutions into complex problems.
Until then, wear helmets, use seat-belts, drive safely, watch out for those unexpected bumps, and maybe consider investing in some heavy-duty shock absorbers. Because in India, every journey is an adventure, even if sometimes it’s an adventure we didn’t sign up for.
