Nagpur: Stay alert, stay alive, because the “battery-powered warriors” are coming from behind. Once celebrated for its orange-scented breeze and calm, wide roads, Nagpur’s “Green City” tag is fast being replaced by a far less comforting identity: the unofficial global headquarters of traffic thrillers.
If you believe the city’s traffic chaos is due to population growth or incomplete metro lines, it’s time to update your general knowledge. The real revolutionaries of Nagpur’s roads are the silent, unpredictable e-rickshaws, vehicles that appear and disappear like magicians, leaving confusion, dents, and frayed nerves in their wake.
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23 dec 2025
Driving through commercial hubs like Sitabuldi, Itwari, and Mahal now feels less like commuting and more like participating in a stunt reality show. These e-rickshaws boast an extraordinary quality, elastic flexibility. Traffic signals don’t impress them, side mirrors are apparently optional, and road rules are treated as polite suggestions.
Their drivers operate on a firm belief that everyone else on the road is merely a temporary tenant, while they are the hereditary owners. Sudden emergency braking in the middle of the road to pick up passengers is considered a fundamental right. Those stuck behind, praying for patience, or salvation, are simply ignored.
Traffic rules, meanwhile, have been electrocuted by high-voltage indifference. The test of patience these “battery heroes” pose to Nagpur Traffic Police arguably surpasses the difficulty of clearing the UPSC exam.
Overloaded, overconfident, and overlooked
E-rickshaws routinely carry passengers far beyond capacity, packed tighter than an overstuffed suitcase. Their silent motors make them especially dangerous. They sneak up quietly and strike without warning, often forging a “permanent relationship” with the bumper of a private vehicle before the driver even realises what happened.
For them, ‘No Entry’ is optional, ‘One Way’ is imaginary, and questioning them about rules earns you a philosophical stare, as if you’ve spoken in an alien language.
Luck, not skill, keeps Nagpur moving
Today, if a Nagpur resident reaches home safely, scratch-free, and without a spike in blood pressure, it’s not a testament to driving skills, it’s sheer luck. On Nagpur’s roads, e-rickshaws have become the final authority, more powerful than any traffic court.
Areas once known for the calm surroundings of schools and hospitals now resemble noisy transit hubs. Ambulances may or may not make it through, but e-rickshaws almost certainly will, parked diagonally right at hospital gates, blocking all movement.
In narrow lanes, drivers manoeuvre their vehicles with needle-like precision, threading through traffic without concern for consequences. At railway crossings and busy signals, they gather in numbers resembling political rallies. Turns are taken as if the road were their personal courtyard.
Whether the vehicle behind scrapes or the driver’s heart skips a beat is irrelevant—the battery-powered convoy marches on.
Authorities look the other way
It’s not as if transport authorities are unaware of the chaos. But who will act? Who will frame rules, enforce registration, or define routes? The current situation suggests a troubling reality: from the Transport Department and RTO to Traffic Police, everyone seems to have shut their eyes—perhaps overwhelmed by this so-called “e-revolution.”
Until a clear policy, mandatory registration, route discipline, and strict enforcement are introduced, Nagpur’s citizens will continue to commute with their lives on the line—absorbing daily electric shocks from these uncontrolled battery-run vehicles.
For now, on Nagpur’s roads, miracles and luck remain the only safety gear.
