Driving With Blinkers On

India loves cars. We love to buy them, polish them, name them, post delivery selfies online and occasionally fantasize about driving like the wind. Then, reality strikes. The moment a car leaves the dealership, the romance ends and the rulebook lands on your dashboard like a flock of birds hitting a plane that’s taking off. Owning a car becomes a tug-of-war with laws that don’t trust you or understand your car. They are certainly not interested in keeping pace with the modern world.

Your dream machine may have adaptive cruise control, lane-keeping assist, a panoramic sunroof and a dashboard that look like spaceship panels. But tyres with wider grip? Suspicious. Tinted glass? Contraband. Roof luggage rack? Shameless provocation. Two horns? Show-off. In Delhi-NCR, diesels are ‘too old’ at 10 years, even if they are cleaner than all the bikes belching smoke. Aspiration is welcome, autonomy is not. And if you try to see clearly in winter, be prepared for fines that will blind your wallet. Because if you retro-fit a proper headlight, India says you have broken the law.

Opaque Death-Zones

In December, a 13-vehicle pile-up on Yamuna Expressway due to thick fog and inadequate vehicle lighting left two dead and 20 injured. Drivers fumbled with hazard lights, unable to see more than a few metres ahead. That same week, a similar accident on the Gurgaon Expressway in the early morning involved five cars, fog again cited as a key factor. These are not isolated incidents; they are a consequence of rules that treat headlights as optional add-ons and fog as an unavoidable nuisance.

Each winter, fog and smog descend on North and North-East India like an invisible executioner, reducing visibility to a few metres and turning highways into skid-fests. Headlines echo a predictability that is tragic, not newsworthy. Pile-ups, smashed cars, injured commuters, lives altered before breakfast. The Ministry of Road Transport and Highways confirms it. Over 30,000 accidents annually are linked to fog. Multi-vehicle collisions on expressways often involve well over a dozen cars, vehicles that could be mistaken for slow-motion car bumper-carnivals, except that real people get hurt.

Even on smaller roads, the problem is acute. In November, a fog-related crash in Siliguri involved three trucks and four cars, trapping commuters for hours because first responders struggled to reach the site in near-zero visibility. Highway patrol officials recall drivers crawling blind for kilometres, their only guide the faint glimmer of taillights disappearing into white nothingness. This isn’t mythology. It is a seasonal nightmare that law and logic have failed to prevent.

Blinded by Design

Here’s an irony. India sells modern cars capable of assisting drivers like co-pilots, yet the headlights — supposed life-saving beacons — barely pierce pea-soup fog. Low beams are made dim by design and aftermarket improvements are frowned upon or downright illegal. Drive with brighter LEDs and you risk fines or vehicle seizure. Desperate motorists often resort to high beams or hazard lights, creating a strobe show of useless light that dazzles everyone, including themselves.

Globally, adaptive headlights and proper fog lamps reduce accident risk by over 30 per cent. In India, these safety measures are treated as optional or criminal. Forums overflow with tales of migraines, blinding glare and frostbitten patience as people crawl through fog that could be cut in half with logic, enforcement and a dash of common sense.

Consider today’s ultra-modern SUV-owners, many of whom admit that the stock halogen headlights barely illuminate beyond 15-20 metres. Owners upgrade to projectors or LED kits, only to be warned by police that the enhancements are illegal, despite the fact that these very upgrades can prevent multi-car collisions in near-zero visibility. The result is collective improvisation. Drivers reducing speed to a crawl, flicking hazards on and off, praying that the car ahead doesn’t stop suddenly.

Mod-Laws Madness

India is a country that rates rules over sense. Tyre upgrades, tinted glasses, luggage carriers and even performance tweaks trigger on-the-spot challans. The authorities claim that such rules protect safety. In practice, they punish it. Winter fog is a test of survival. A competent fog lamp can prevent disaster, yet enthusiasts face fines for getting one. Enforcement emphasizes paperwork over outcomes, punishing intent while leaving hazards unaddressed. You could almost admire the efficiency, if only people weren’t dying in the predictable and preventable chaos.

The absurdity extends to basic accessories. An advisory from the Delhi Traffic Police says aftermarket auxiliary lights, intended to help drivers see safely in fog, are ‘illegal’. Meanwhile, expressway crashes continue year after year, driven by poor visibility. We live in a nation that forbids survival tools in the name of order, and then complains about the disorder that follows.

Theatre of Enforcement

Winter driving in India is Kafkaesque. Slow down and you inspire tailgaters. Upgrade and you invite a fine. Do nothing and you gamble with death. Advisories urge ‘proper fog lamp use’ while cracking down on ‘illegal’ mods, because nothing says public safety like contradicting yourself on a freezing winter morning.

Some states, like Rajasthan, have rolled out awareness campaigns, reflective markers and repaired streetlights. Yet highways remain poorly lit, even lethal. Multi-vehicle pile-ups on the Ludhiana-Delhi Expressway show that infrastructure neglect compounds driver vulnerability. It is as if the law prefers bureaucratic neatness to human survival. Meanwhile, drivers innovate with high beams, hazard lights and sheer willpower, while the rulebook sits on the windshield – unbending, unhelpful and infuriating.

Blind Spots, Blind Laws

Car ownership, once a source of pride, has become a bureaucratic endurance test. Factory headlights are dim, fog upgrades are restricted and drivers improvise in desperation. Laws assume misuse rather than encourage responsible innovation, punishing drivers who try to enhance safety. Meanwhile, cars arrive loaded with tech that could prevent accidents, but regulation outlaws its use. Roads, vehicles and enforcement are misaligned in a perfect storm where darkness is inevitable and logic optional.

Every winter, we witness the consequences. Ambulances delayed because a multi-car collision has jammed the route, helpless drivers trapped, families stranded. These are not accidents of chance; they are mishaps of omission. Omission by law, infrastructure and regulators who seem to measure safety by paperwork, not by people alive at the end of the drive.

Fog, Forgetfulness, Fatalism

Just as winter, this combination also reappears each year. Poorly-lit highways, confused drivers, fog thick enough for birds to walk on and laws that treat prudence as a crime. Drivers perform a nightly ballet of hazard lights, high beams and prayers, hoping to avoid death. In an office smelling faintly of bureaucracy, a man ticks boxes that prove that enforcement has occurred. On a nearby highway, drivers die in predictable chaos. It would almost be admirable if it weren’t so horrifying.

Modern problems need modern solutions. Indian motoring laws often treat 21st-century hazards with 20th-century thinking. Until that changes, every foggy morning will remain a lottery, with human lives as the stakes. Modern vehicles have to be aligned with modern rules.

Lighting standards need a serious overhaul: high-performance, adaptive headlights and front / rear fog lamps should be mandatory. Laws must differentiate between frivolous mods and essential safety upgrades, allowing drivers to see clearly without fearing a challan. Enforcement should reward safety, not punish foresight. Road infrastructure must complement technology such as reflective markers, functional streetlights, intelligent fog detection systems and seasonal advisories.

Soliloquy: Thousands die on roads where visibility could be improved with logic, engineering sense and regulatory courage. India’s highways are a warning and a metaphor, because tech, aspiration and human effort are stifled by regulations that have overstayed their welcome. Darkness is unavoidable in fog, but the law needn’t make it worse. Until India can see — through the fog, bureaucracy and decades of half-hearted enforcement — its roads will remain arenas where light, logic and life are optional. Where absurdity reigns supreme.