Reflections in the Rearview

Every honk, stop, and swerve tells a story of human behaviour, impatience, and survival on Srinagar's streets.

- Ayiesha Gauher

I thought learning to drive in Srinagar would be simple: a license, lessons, a test, and freedom.

I held the license in my hand, celebrated, and stepped into a reality I hadn't imagined.

The streets here have their own rhythm, a language without instruction.

Indicators, mirrors, even streetlights exist, yet often ignore their purpose. The road does not warn. Pedestrians step forward absorbed in their phones. Vehicles swerve or stop without reason. Each trip becomes a negotiation between instinct and caution.

I press the brake often, more than I expected. The car ahead may stop abruptly. A rickshaw may turn with no signal. Someone may step onto the street as if it is their private stage.

Indicators, meant to guide, are mostly absent or misleading. Occasionally, a driver signals and immediately contradicts the signal, leaving me to rely on intuition alone.

Driving in Srinagar is about anticipating the choices of others, about taking responsibility for their mistakes because you cannot expect them to follow rules.