The morning of July 1, 2023, began like any other. I woke up, got dressed, put on a raincoat and pants that were too large for me, and set off on my usual route to work. A pretty normal morning, well, until I accidentally cut the red light at the traffic signal opposite Kala Academy in Panjim.
In my defence, I was simply following the car in front of me and found a path to squeeze past. After all, I had no option, but to accept the unspoken rule on the roads that cars always get the upper hand over bikes just because they are the bigger vehicle.
As for the people on the bikes – who really cares about them? Word on the streets is that it is every man for himself, be it cars blocking exits which they couldn’t have passed through anyway, or the ruthless showering of dirty puddle water on the biker trying to navigate through the same puddle as carefully and slowly as possible. Maybe indifference is the new language, and everybody seems to be learning it. Or maybe, they are just plain morons.
Coming back to my traffic signal mishap – traffic lights have always been a sign of good traffic management. And, jumping the red light is on me. While I take full responsibility for my mistake, who is to be held responsible for the lack of uniformity and the improper functioning of the traffic signals?
While some days there are new traffic signals that appear overnight, on other days, they are constantly blinking a confusing amber (yellow), which usually means ‘proceed with caution’, and sometimes we must ignore the signal and look out for the traffic police standing in the corner, navigating the traffic.
If I’m being honest, the real skill that we should all work on adopting is memorising the placement of the signals, just as we have memorised the placement of the potholes all over the state.
The latest new addition to Goan roads are the AI-operated traffic signals. Most AI signals come in a package and are accompanied by their human friends, the Goa police, who are generally as confused as us, the people waiting at the signals.
Turns out, the only thing that has stayed constant is the hand in our pockets to shell out the money after we have unintentionally zoomed past the traffic police and his AI-operated friend.
Returning to the issue. Over the years, I’ve come to learn that mistakes happen all the time, but, what makes all the difference is what you do to make it right. So, like a good citizen, upon noticing that I was the only one that had moved forward, I hit the brakes! After that, I started backing up using my two legs to reverse my way to the end of the line.
This made me wish I had an electric bike and its reverse option. Although I did not manage to make it to the end of the line, I made my way to where I guessed the camera was situated and looked around, hoping that the AI inspector would have a change of heart and notice that I came back and spare me the challan and a possible reprimand from my mother.
God knows I’ve tried to explain to her that while the new traffic system is commendable, how feasible is it really to have signals installed within a distance of just a few metres like they are next to the Mandovi Bridge in Porvorim?
While one tells you to move on ahead, the next one, within your visual range asks you to stop just as you have picked up speed. The fear of meeting with an accident and the utter confusion caused by these signals is frustrating, to say the least. Take, for example, the one at the Merces junction.
Call me slow, but sometimes, my brain refuses to process how abrupt some of the signals are. Looks like the term 'mixed signals', which is now used in romantic relationships, was coined because of the Goan traffic signals.
Well, as for the answer to my human error that morning, only time and a text message from the Panjim RTO will tell. Until then, I may be wrong, but, I think almost half the commuters in Goa are going to receive a minimum of one e-challan from the sharpest, but not the smartest eyes in town.
