Exhibit 1: Empty road. A lone biker. And if not the deafening ugly sound of a broken silencer (read: Bullet), then the high pitch shrill of the honk.
Exhibit 2: Road. Mild traffic. Car. And honk.
Exhibit 3: Busy road. Heavy traffic. Lots of cars. And bikes. And cycles. Lots of honks.
No matter where you go, no matter the amount of traffic on the road, no matter the season of the year or time of the day, you will find someone honking the life out of their vehicles. And, for no apparent reason.
Take to any street and you’d find motorists, especially bikers, honking away gleefully, even if the road is absolutely devoid of any other soul, living or dead. The only reason for the honking is: It’s there, it should be used. The other components of the vehicle are used during the course of driving – the gear, the gas pedal, the brake, and the steering; so why should the horn be left behind? After all, people have paid money for the vehicle, for the entire vehicle, horn included; and so should use all its components equally, no?
So, why are Indians so fond of honking?
Is it that, having always been brought up in the chaos, noise, and din of India, they feel that noise is an intrinsic part of the culture, part of the fabric of our society and being; and they need to contribute to the National Noise. (Yes, we are the only country to have both a National Song and a National Noise; though I haven’t visited any other country save for Bhutan, I think I can safely vouch for this).
Or is the reason more ‘genuine’: The need to announce their impending arrival to whomsoever may care to pay attention. Which is, no one. The honking is so ubiquitous, that no one actually pays attention to it. Which defeats the purpose of honking. And because honking does not get the job done, more honks. It is a vicious circle. I have seen bikers honk, and continually honk, starting about 100 metres away from a scene of a crossing or a junction; and my guess is, to caution people from coming in their way. They want an open road, a free way; and much like the callers and durbans used to announce the arrival of a king in the old days, they like to trumpet the arrival of their vehicles, lest anyone should dare to breach their way. They think they are the kings of the road. Or alternatively, bullies of the roads.
Some, I feel, honk for the pure ‘fun’ of it. These are the positive types. They can enjoy the music of the cacophony of multiple honks going off together. They want to contribute to the medley. They take great pride and pleasure in being part of a larger meaning of existence: to honk together. Out of unison, obviously.
Then there are the competitors. He honked? Oh, he thinks his honk is better than mine. Let me show him the power of my instrument. Honk Honk. Take that.
On to the truckers then. They love to honk. They get so bored, they and their cleaner-partners, driving along lone at night, that they need some music to keep the mood up and the spirits high. And what better instrument at disposal than a sweet-sounding honk. Truckers have actually been known to love the sound of their honks. It’s apparently a matter of pride for them.
And then there is the kind for whom the reason is: The trucks say so. See, for some incomprehensible reason, the universal motto of all Indian trucks is: Horn OK Please. There’d nary be a truck you would find this declaration not written on the back of. And this golden quote, this emphatic advice, these mighty words of wisdom, are taken to heart by our people who feel the need to keep the glory of the resounding proclamation alive even on the city streets, with our without traffic, night or day.
And so we honk. Because, well, we are true patriots. We wear our patriotism on our sleeves, and produce proudly our National Noise.
