Reporting Driving Accidents in India

I was coming back from hanging out in Saket for Valentine’s night when I saw a man lying on the Ring Road highway! 

Because it was dark and the highway was not properly lighted, I only saw the shadow of a man and couldn’t be sure there was actually someone there.  I was on the phone (Blue Tooth) with a friend and we were just talking about hit and runs and traffic accidents and road rage in Delhi.  I had just finished agreeing with her that it is best not to take matters into your own hand – i.e., in India, especially Delhi, you should not stop your car if you see someone in need.  Chances are, you will be blamed for the accident.  If a crowd develops, you could be hit and beaten.  If the cops get there, they will question you!  Being a good samaritan has generally not been a good idea.

A few minutes later, I saw this man and my gut reaction kicked in.  I pulled over to the left and then immediately reversed my car.  There were three people standing on the two-feet high sidewalk.  One was a man in his 40s.  There was a young girl, in her late 20s.  And there was someone else.  I immediately yelled at the man, in Hindi, why he wasn’t helping the guy!

He and I both ran to the middle of the road and looked at the man.  I saw he was breathing.  He had blood coming from his mouth and from his head.  It looked like a leg may have been broken but I couldn’t tell because it could have just been his pants giving it that look.  The main thing was that he was breathing.  By this time, 3-4 other guys had stopped.

I asked if there was a hospital nearby, thinking I would put the man in the car and take him there.  No one seemed to know and I think one guy even said there wasn’t any.  I didn’t know what someone is supposed to do to get help so I asked the man I had initially talked to to call someone.  It turns out you dial 102 to get the ambulance and 100 to get the police, the equivalent of 911 in the States.  The man called 100 and reported that the ambulance will be there in 2-3 minutes.  A couple of others had stopped and one guy said there was no ambulance going to arrive unless you called the police.  He said we had to call 100, not 102.  A few minutes of random discussion and I dialed 100, told the lady where I was on the Ring Road, and she said she was dispatching a cop. 

Right around that time, I saw an ambulance come.  It was relief that indeed it did arrive and not hours later, but very quickly.  I was a bit surprised but not so much either.  The guys who got off the ambulance did not look like they were professionals at all.  One guy had an unclean beard.  They were not dressed in any kind of uniform.  I asked loudly, almost giving directions, if they had a stretcher.  Immediately they got it, as if I had to ask for it for them to take action instead of them doing it themselves.  If they were going to check the guy first, then they should have done that and not let me stop their procedure.  Regardless, the main thing is they arrived on time, there was a stretcher, they put him in the vehicle, and took him to the hospital.

I even thought of giving the ambulance driver Rs. 1000 or Rs. 1500 towards the care of the man.  I didn’t know how much it would cost, but clearly more than that.  It was going to be something that perhaps got him admitted was what I was thinking.  Then I thought that it would never get to the hospital, the driver guys would just keep it.  So I didn’t give it to them.

As I walked to my car, I saw that the police had already arrived.  The crowd of 3-4 people had gone to the cops and were explaining what happened.  The original man who I had talked to, he was wearing a nice coat, looked like a decent person, and I probably were thinking the same thing – the man has been helped, let’s get out of here before we get in trouble.  He shook my hand twice and thanked me as I thanked him.  He said if I hadn’t stopped, he was not going to help the man.  He wasn’t going to do it alone.  He told me the guy was crossing the highway, one car missed him, and a second red colored one, hit him.

I got back in my car, started driving home, and called my friend.  I described to her what all transpired.  She said it was good that the ambulance came.  If I had taken him there, he might not have gotten treatment.  This way, he will surely get help.  I didn’t know why and I didn’t think to ask at the time.  We discussed how the sad thing is that they have created the highways with good speed now (up to 100 km/hr when no one is there but usually never faster than 45 to 50 due to traffic and massive construction everywhere) but there is no walkways for pedestrians to cross from one side of the road to the other.  The only thing they can do is cross directly on the high-speed roads.  They’ve built a highway, but not really thought it through to provide full measure of expected traffic on the foot.  Walkways over or under need to be built.

In India, and this is something that perhaps is slowly changing, it is true that people do not help anyone in need if they see them on the streets like that.  If you stopped and helped, it was usually you who was questioned.  People assumed you were the one who caused the accident.  The idea of you being a good samaritan didn’t exist.  Maybe still doesn’t except for rare circumstances.  My gut reaction, having grown up in the States and being me, was to get this man help, even if I knew in my mind that I could be getting myself in trouble.  All I know is that I’m glad I saw him, glad I stopped, and glad the man got to a hospital.  As my friend said, at least now he has a chance to live and get treatment.  I had done my good deed for the day.

Love in the Wrongest Way Possible

A couple of days ago, on my way back from Kerala, I got a voicemail.  It was a woman saying she had gotten my number from someone and that she wanted to talk to me.  She left her phone number.

I mulled it over on the way back home from the airport.  Who is this person and who is the mutual friend/acquaintance?  Before I talked to her, I wanted to know this.  So I sent her an SMS the next day.  Let me quote the exchange here:

Me: “Hi – I received a voicemail from this number.  Who is this?  Who gave you my number?”

Unidentified mutual friend’s friend: “Wel, this is kiran (name changed to protect the innocent).  Got ur no. from a friend who met u at sm lounge a while ago.  Nthng much, u seemed 2 be a nice guy nd thought wld b acquntncs, if nt frnds.  If u r nt cmfrtbl, i m sry 2 hv bthrd u.  Tk care.”

Hmm.  It was someone who I met at a lounge in Delhi.  But yet no name was provided.  Now, it wasn’t just a question of who the mutual friend was.  It was a question of why didn’t this mutual friend first contact me directly and tell me about her friend and why are they both insisting on not revealing who she is?

Me: “Who is the friend?  You can understand why I would be skeptical since you are being unnecessarily secretive about person’s name.”

Unidentified mutual friend’s friend: “she, i.e. my friend thought that we have some stuff in common and can gel well…which is y she gave ur no.  i wouldn’t b v. comfortable sharing her name.  having said that, if its destined..we would probably share another sms and would get at a platform that we can talk as 2 matured humans, rather than trying 2 link strings.  or else, lets put a halt to th communication.”

Wow!  My first reaction was this person got pissed off.  Second, she is not “comfortable sharing her name”?  WTF?  Why?  Apparently, neither person has heard about credibility of references?  Third, what is this “we can talk as 2 matured humans, rather than trying 2 link strings” bit?  Did Kiran actually think she would get a response from me by implying I am an immature human trying to link meaningless strings?  I think it’s quite important to know who is doing this connecting.  This little rant also told me enough about Kiran and that I didn’t want to meet her.  Needless to say, I did not reply back!

It made me wonder a few things, though.  This could be someone I met at a lounge, as Kiran stated.  Sure, enough.  It could also be someone who I met through a matrimonial site and we’re still in touch but as friends (why they won’t reveal themselves is a bit weird).  There’s also the possibility this is some family member here in Delhi attempting to introduce me to a friend.  If it is a family member, it’s sad that they don’t know how to handle such situations.  It would have been far better to have approached me directly, tell me about this woman, and give me her contact information.  Saddest thing is that my family would do something just like this.

I’ve saved the best for last.  Do I know who this middle person is?  I have a fairly good idea.  How?  When Kiran called and left me a voicemail, she used my nickname!  She did not use my formal name!  I don’t use my family nickname with people I meet at lounges.  LOL.  Clearly, the middleman is a family member or family friend or someone who knows me well enough to know my nickname.  It could also a friend who’s on Orkut, which could include matrimonial site friends.  They would have seen my nickname on Orkut.  But even if they saw it there, I reason they would still call me by my formal name unless the middleman and I had a relationship where he/she called me by my nickname.  Don’t ya think?

They were playing a game with me and I guess I decided to play right back.  Actually, I didn’t mean it to be a game but it turned into one based on Kiran’s response.  I thought Kiran would tell me who the person was in her response to my first SMS.  I didn’t realize it was supposed to be a secret.  Maybe she just didn’t want to leave the reference in the voicemail, which I find weird in itself, but could happen here in India.  It would have been far better to do that.  Even if I was not interested in meeting her, I would have been much more gracious in how I approached her (i.e., I would have called her back) knowing there was a known middleman connection.  Okay, so I was still diplomatic with her but I think I would have taken it up a notch and actually called her back.

Yes, I have such people in my life who don’t think it’s better to approach me directly and suggest an introduction.  If I said no, I said no.  Did they really think this alternative way was better?

Revenge of the Indian Call Center Worker

I was taking a quick look at how the Bombay Stock Exchange did today.  In that process, I came across an article about an incident of revenge by an Indian call center worker.

This hit me precisely because it’s something I’ve noticed before.  In India, you really have to be careful what you say to whom.  People here tend to take things very personally.  If you pissed them off, they will probably not confront you directly.  (It depends on each person individually I suppose, but as a generalization, this is true.)  Instead, they will get back at you in some other way that you won’t know about.

This is particularly alarming because they will break all kinds of company policies and rules to take the revenge.  In the example of the bank’s call center operator, it is very possible this happened.  Of course, I don’t know if it did, but my experience tells me that I wouldn’t at all be surprised if it was true.  (The bank crediting the man’s account indicates some error on their part.  Or maybe they’re just trying to keep him as a customer in this financial crisis.  Possible but not likely.)

Why do Indian workers, and people in general, think they can go beyond the law to take revenge on a person they feel has slighted them?  I am not even bringing up the lower threshold of professional ethics.  Ethics goes out the door very quickly in these cases unfortunately.  You can’t hold a person to that standard.  The question really comes down to how is the customer protected from an unhappy employee.  I’m sure companies have policies on this type of thing but the degree to which you see them flouted is much higher than what I am used to. 

Even more than company policies and country laws, it has to do with educating workers that in a global world, the lower standards of professionalism just doesn’t cut it.  It’s something I’ve had to explain to my own people on occasion.

The Crossover Continues

I continue to notice the major shift towards Westernization in India.  Yah, I know, we’ve all heard about this happening for years.  When you see it on a day-to-day basis, it hits you differently.  “Theory” gets translated into “experiential” understanding.

Halloween, a major celebration for kids and even young adults, in the United States has become a rather big event here (probably for a few years now).  At least, in New Delhi.  The funny thing is though, you won’t see little bachchas going door to door asking for candy (or would it be mithai?!  Yah, okay, maybe not!  If this was going on when I was a kid, I’d be wanting my 5 Stars and Gems damn it!).  No, sir, India has adopted Halloween in a simplistic but yet big way.  Like you may see in Boston, New York or somewhere in Cali, in New Delhi, you have Halloween parties at every major destination (and even some smaller ones).  The pub and club that you went to in June, well, you should have a costume when you enter the theme party.  I have been receiving emails on this for the last week.  Many emails.  Here’s a sampler of an event mixing costumes, ghouls and goblins and salsa dancing:

“Ghosts and witches and creatures of fright,
Don’t miss the call of Halloween night.
Come one, come all in the threads of the season,
If you miss this salsa bash, better have a good reason.

Be there by time and meet your fate, bring your scariest costume and your tastiest date.

This week, we are inviting you to a Spooktacular Halloween Party combined with your very own weekly Salsa Night!!”

When I first heard “India is becoming like the US” mantra years ago, I hadn’t quite expected this.  In fact, I have now seen Christmas, Valentine’s Day, and Halloween here.  For the teenagers and young adults, all of these holidays have become something people look forward to and celebrate with partying.  Valentine’s Day probably has the same implementation here as it does in the US.  Halloween doesn’t.  And Christmas probably doesn’t either.  Actually, it’s half way in my estimation, more than Halloween but less than Valentine’s.  I guess people take whatever they see and know about each holiday, copy it, and twist it to fit their own situation.  And you have a morphed Western holiday in India.

Of course, there are also times when the Westernization, or whatever you want to call it, doesn’t happen.  I haven’t quite been able to convince people here to go watch a cricket match at the stadium (why would we go into that crowd, it’s much easier to watch it on TV?!)!  Back in the States, my friends and I caught at least one game each of football, basketball, and baseball every season.  Usually a couple each.  I’d even head out to the very small college gymnasium at Harvard to watch college basketball with a roommate who graduated from there.

It really is amazing how we, Indians, in both countries are trying to become more like each other.  Yet, the differences remain immense.  Growing up 1.5 Generation Indian, I can’t help but look at things from the “here versus there” or ”East versus West” glasses on.  Even as much as I wish I didn’t.

Opportunity Cost

Life is all about trade-offs.  When we make one decision, we make it to the exclusion of others that could have taken its place.  This cost is not real in one sense but very real in another.  Do we think about opportunity cost enough in our day-to-day lives?

We have all been faced with decisions.  Sometimes, this choice is rational and sometimes its not.  Sometimes, it makes sense to people around us and other times they, for lack of understanding, make up their own reasons for why we made a given choice.  But we know why we made the decision.  We might not disclose our reasons.  We may even hide them by throwing some other rationale out there.  We may even go along with incorrect assumptions by those not in the know because it meets our objective of hiding our real purpose.

What really is opportunity cost?  And is it really real?  Opportunity cost exists in terms of time, money, and almost every other small to large decision we make in our day-to-day lives.  It’s when you choose a course of action and therefore give up the alternatives.  To me, in some cases it is very real.  If I chose to work today instead of say, study, then the decision has real costs.  I earned income for the work I did.  I gave up understanding the material I would have studied.  If that material was important to my degree, then I put my degree in jeopardy.  But I chose to work because I deemed the immediate income more important.  I probably realized that if I don’t get my degree because I didn’t study, my income in the long-term is harmed even more.

When it comes to money, the opportunity cost is more tangible as well as intangible.  If we put $100,000 into a savings account earning 6% interest, we have assured ourself of that gain.  The cost is that we could have put that money into the stock market, perhaps earning much more in the same amount of time, or into a down payment for a house.  The cost is not just financial but also intangible (we gained the peace of mind of a savings deposit versus the risk of larger gains (or losses) versus the pride of owning our own home).  The opportunity cost of capital is the return that we forgo when we choose an alternative direction.

When we say life is about trade-offs, what we really mean is that life is about opportunity cost!