I’ve had to join the rat race. And all the alpha males seem to be out there, fighting over… well nothing actually.

For a lot of us, there's a constant struggle to assert our masculinity over others. And some of the most absurd examples happen on public roads. Bogged down by crumbling public transport and new life situations, I’m taking driving lessons.

And I have developed greater respect for people who can drive. Without killing anyone (or themselves). In just over a fortnight, I've been battered and bruised and now I'm unrecognisable to myself. Yes, Bruce Springsteen was actually talking about the streets of Delhi.

Every driver/rider here believes that – to use an Indian lexicon – the road belongs to his father (we'll discuss women later). It doesn't matter if they actually pay their taxes or not, there's a real-life road rash/road rage/speed racer mash happening. They have outlawed driving in a single lane and red lights are considered challenges to be passed at max velocity. And every extra honk will get them another virgin in heaven.

Ultimate virility
In fact the first bit of advice my driving instructor gave me was to buy a louder horn, because the factory fitted ones aren't meant for road use. I wonder why do people buy big cars to compensate for small dicks when they can just invest in a louder horn and be hung like an elephant.

Obviously ultimate virility is derived from rolling down the windows and sharing your taste in Yo Yo Honey Singh with the whole wide world. For best results, such behaviour needs a Skoda or a Honda. Sadly my puny Alto just wouldn't do. Yes, compatriots have subwoofers that cost more than my hatchback.

Aggression
But the biggest issue that my driving instructor has is my lack of assertiveness. Apparently I need to stare down the rest of the silverback gorillas on the road and make space for my car. For frustrated folks, aggression equals to confidence and the term ‘road warrior’ is taken too literally. I am new to the game, but learning.

The adrenaline-induced aggression is pretty infectious. Despite an ever-worrying mother, I do threaten to flex my puny arms 0.1 times per kilometre. With their incredible bulk, and undying loyalty, cars do make us feel powerful if not invincible.

The trick is to find the right opponents. Mine are pedestrians and motorcycle riders. Yes Darwinian theories apply here as well. I honk at jaywalkers, wince at overloaded bikes, glance aspirationally at women driving SUVs and make way for BMWs. Rumour has it that every BMW now carries a get-out-of-jail card for the first two times you run over someone.

Growl and look tough
The women drivers can be divided into two simple categories. The ones who insist on driving poorly to keep up the stereotypes. And the testosterone addled ones who mock them trying to outdo the men at their own game. And men like me. By far, the rashest driver amongst my friends is a 60 year old woman who believes her gender and white hair can be used to excuse almost anything.

Though I've now logged almost 100 km, I am actually happier (read calmer) away from the steering wheel. This means back to hopping amongst other people’s cars, driving them mad. This also means emotionally blackmailing wife to get her to take driving lessons more seriously. And if all fails, I'll just learn to growl, look tougher and keep a paint can in the car.

By Kuber Sharma

Photo: Kuber Sharma, © Love Matters/RNW

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