Sharmada Sivaram, Licensed to Drive (The Making Of)

Happy new year! I hope 2016 is a lovely mix of kind, healthy, funny and generally amazing-ness.

Our national capital, and my home for almost eight years, has implemented a policy to curb pollution. It is a temporary solution, on a trial basis. From 1st to 15th January, private vehicles (with some exemptions) will run only if number ends in a certain digit, on a certain date (#oddeven - look it up!) resulting in mini Rajiv Chowk rush hour situations replicated across metro stations and many in Delhi discovering, while carpooling, that their colleagues are also neighbors.

I don't intend to debate on the merits or lack thereof of this policy. I will only pray that it helps and that 'air quality levels down from severe to very poor' won't qualify as the "good news" of the day, in Delhi, any longer. Till a couple of months ago, I was a pedestrian, user of public transport and had the luxury of being driven around by others. Had I not learnt to drive last year, I wouldn't have bothered to know or remember which cars could run on which days. And this learning to drive business was a fairly long, amusing process for me. Since you're kind of jobless and on my blog, lucky for you - you get to know all about it!

A goal I had every year (from the year before I turned 18) for my birthday, was to learn to drive and have a license. It took five years in the making, but on my 23^rd birthday, I had had a license to drive for almost a month. For most of you who know to drive, you probably won’t have thought too much about the process of learning or about having multiple teachers, etc. My story probably isn’t the most unique or exciting one out there, but it was definitely isn't run-of-the-mill. Plus, I would be happy if this sort of helps anyone else treading this path in the future.

I graduated with a Master’s degree earlier this year, in May. This was followed by a trip to the US, which stretched to almost a month. I returned around mid-June with the status of a berozgaar. The job hunt was bound to be slow, but I also didn’t have any short-term commitments at the time. The setting was ripe to learn a skill. Finally, there could be no excuses. It wouldn't exactly cut into my daily oversleeping quota either. Learning to drive had to be priority.

My first attempt at successfully making a car move, probably took place when I was 17. This was on the newly paved, entirely empty road, behind our house in Mohali. Ma told me how to begin driving our Swift Dzire. Drove about 500 meters in the first gear. Whenever I mentioned the first gear part to people, they smiled at me thinking it was just precious that I counted first gear as driving. For years, that was my only (illegal) attempt.

Before actually driving a car in some legal sense, I needed a learner’s permit. However, for all practical purposes, my paperwork points to my place of residence as Punjab. And so, applying for one in Delhi just couldn’t happen. And I didn’t have enough time to spend in Chandigarh/Mohali just so I could apply for the permit, learn and take the final test. It wasn’t a practical solution – it was, however, one we considered every couple of weeks.

Over the years, I had managed to open a bank account in public sector bank in Delhi. Turns out, the passbook (public sector bank, active for 6 months or above) can serve as address proof in applying for a learner’s permit (among some other options like water bills etc.). Armed with that information, we began contacting the usual suspects – driving schools in the area. The Automobiles Association of Upper India, in the Qutab Institutional Area, has been recommended to me by many. It was, in any case, among the top few I wanted to consider. However, their schedule was a little restrictive for me. In case they suit you, you shouldn’t think twice. It is highly recommended. Additionally, my mother wanted to accompany me while I learnt and this wouldn’t have been possible in AAUI.

Among the few others that we contacted, SMDS* seemed to offer the most favourable deal. Ma could come along, they would assist in processing the learner’s permit and permanent license, would arrange for a pick-up and drop too. I was asked to show up on a Saturday morning at their office so that they could prep us (other applicants and me) for the learner’s permit test and take us to process the permit. The night before, like the uncharacteristically diligent student that I am, I went over 200 questions and answers listed in the question bank on the Transport Authority’s website. The test would have only 10 MCQs; in fact, the 7^th question wouldn’t show on your screen if you got the first 6 right.

Armed with all that studying and excitement, I turned up at the office. I came across as a know-it-all in front of the others. This is really saying something, given that most of the questions we were asked were fairly common-sensical (if you put safety first, generally in life, and have lived in India enough to know what side of the road we drive on). Anyway, we were handed e-appointment letters and asked to head on to the RTO in Sarai Kaale Khan. This was very far from that area (or even my area). Arif Bhaiya and I reached there to find that the computers were down for the day and the RTO closed in half an hour. We were told to come another day.

In the meantime though, a notice caught my eye. It warned the general public, on behalf of the Delhi Government, to not engage with SMDS – in the simplest terms. This explained why our ‘instructor’ at the office had mentioned that it would be best if we answered that we hadn’t narrowed in on a school, when asked about it. Maybe I could have continued on and learnt at SMDS. Some suggested that it would be harmless to continue - perhaps, the authorities weren't getting an adequate bribe and so, wanted to badmouth them. However, the safer option was to find a new school or teacher.

In any case, a learner’s permit wasn’t going to be contingent on a School. E-appointments allow you to pay up the fee online (with extra convenience charges) and take an appointment at an RTO which doesn’t cater to your jurisdiction. I remembered hearing from a friend that the RTO in Vasant Vihar was fairly well organized and wasn't usually crowded. I filed for an e-appointment a week after the SMDS incident. Ma and I went to Vasant Vihar super early, optimistic about our chances. The guy at the counter who looked at my documents blankly said no. When prodded, he elaborated. Turns out, they didn’t recognize a public-sector bank passbook as a proof of residence. He pointed to a small piece of paper taped to the counter which said “Aadhar Card/Election ID only for …” [On a side note, I think its worth investigating why different RTOs have different 'requirements' in this sense. No one we asked seemed to know.]

Disappointed and demotivated, we headed on home. I called up the helpline (which has been fairly helpful and accurate with information related to the RTO, btw). They said that usually it should be accepted but perhaps, to be on the safe side, I should take an attested or notarized copy. We decided to get one made in any case. After two failed attempts, we decided to give it a rest for some time.

After a bit of asking around, we found out that someone we knew, knew someone else, who knew another someone who worked next to the RTO at Sheikh Sarai (the one that jurisdiction over my area of residence anyway). We were assured that this guy would help us out the next time we went. Although apprehensive about this method, we gave it a shot. All that he did at first was go over my paperwork/documentation. He felt that we wouldn’t need the notarized residence proof. In good faith, we headed to the appropriate floor of the RTO. The line was long and winding. This was scary. However, a kind man pointed out that women and senior citizens were allowed after every fourth man. Not sure how this logic had been arrived at by the authorities, but on that day, it worked out perfectly for me. Others in the queue were cooperative. After moving from line to line quite quickly – including the one whether they manage to capture your worst photograph – we went back to our man of good hope. He took me aside to talk one-on-one. He was just about hinting at how to cheat on my test when I told him I didn’t need to – I had studied. I think he suppressed a laugh and told me to go on ahead and to let him know in case I needed help with the second attempt.

With all that over-preparation, I managed to pass the test super-fast. I was told to stop by the afternoon to pick my learner’s permit up. Victory, at last.

The next task at hand was to look for a teacher. Arif Bhaiya recommended NMS, just a lane away from our apartments – a family friend of his, apparently. We inquired and were satisfied with the answers Mr N gave. I would be taught one-on-one in a dual-controls Hyundai i20 for 15 days, one hour a day, and my mother could ride along.  We even got a discount because of Arif Bhaiya. And thus began my nightmare. 

[To be continued] 
*I could just have written the names of the driving schools but I plan on retaining some of this mystery - go ahead and guess, or comment/email me to ask, if you care to know.