Driving in Kerala: How I overcame fear and mastered India’s wild roads

“Do you drive in India?” my friends in Dubai always ask. The quick answer: yes. But it’s never that simple. It took me a while to get used to driving on Indian roads.

It wasn’t that I lacked confidence — I was just downright terrified of Kerala’s chaotic traffic.

Indian roads? You have to see them to believe them. It’s bumper-to-bumper madness. Autorickshaws (tuk-tuks) dart in and out like they own the place. Throw in motorbikes and bicycles weaving through every gap, and you’ve got pure mayhem.

Every trip to Kerala, I’d sit in the passenger seat, wide-eyed, wondering how anyone manages to navigate that swirling storm of vehicles. Even after years of driving in Qatar and the UAE, I just couldn’t summon the nerve to drive there.

Strangely, I’d spent years biking and motorbiking on those roads with zero incidents — no crashes, no close calls. Clean slate. So why the freeze behind the wheel?

Sometimes, I toyed with the idea of driving my father’s car. But my mother quickly shut down such thoughts. “No needless adventures on vacation,” she warned. So, we stuck with our trusty family driver.

Except Sundays. That was his day off. And Sundays were precious for us —the only day everyone was free to visit friends and family.

One Sunday, our driver failed to turn up. It was too late to find a replacement. So, who had to take the wheel? Yours truly.

We cruised to our destination without a hitch. Who says I can’t drive in India? Turns out, it was just fear holding me back.

When I finally grabbed the steering wheel, everything clicked. My friend Alex had always told me to drive in Kerala as he hops in as soon as his plane lands in Kochi. Now I get it.

The secret is to stay sharp. Watch both sides. Cars, autorickshaws, motorbikes and buses will overtake you from anywhere. So you’ve to be extra vigilant.

Not everything was smooth sailing. One day, out of habit, I tried to slip into a traffic queue from a side road, expecting a little space. I found some and merged, but the KSRTC (Kerala Road Transport Corporation) bus driver behind me wasn’t amused — he rear-ended me lightly.

A lesson learned the hard way. “Don’t mess with KSRTC drivers,” dad said, eyeing the fresh blue streak on my Hyundai i10. “They’re ruthless and backed by the union. Steer clear of them.”

That mark is still there. Now, I’m no longer the reluctant driver. I slide into the driver’s seat as soon as I land in Thiruvananthapuram. My kids drive in Dubai, but so far, no offers to take over when we’re back home.

Wonder why?