Honking is not my cup of tea.
I rarely blow the horn on the streets. And for a good reason.
Firstly, it adds to noise pollution. And secondly—roads in residential areas are meant for pedestrians. The fact that you’re even allowed to ride a bike or drive a car there is, honestly, a privilege.
But have I always been like this—a non-honking guy?
Nope.
I used to honk like crazy too.
How the Habit Began
It was 1992.
One of my friends taught me how to ride a scooter.
It took him only a couple of hours to explain the basics. After that, I was on my own—expected to practise as much as I could. But everything felt new then. The balance. The throttle. The road.
I wasn’t confident. Not even close.
And somewhere in that nervousness, I picked up a belief: the only way to stay safe was to keep honking.
So I did.
A lot.
I blew the horn like a maniac—not out of arrogance, but out of fear. Fear of hitting someone. Fear of being hit. Fear of not reacting in time.
In other words, honking began as a precaution.
As months passed, my confidence grew. Within three or four months, I could ride comfortably—even on busy roads.
But the habit stayed.
I honked on empty streets. I honked early in the morning. I honked late at night.
I didn’t know why.
At the time, it didn’t even occur to me to question it.
When Awareness Crept In
In 2007, I bought my first motorbike.
Somewhere around then, a thought quietly entered my mind: How peaceful would the world be if people stopped honking unnecessarily?
And then something unexpected happened.
I started getting irritated when people honked behind me—for no reason.
That irritation lingered.
It made me pause.
If I felt this way now, others must have felt the same way when I honked.
That’s when another realisation followed.
Blowing the horn is necessary only two times out of ten.
When Honking Actually Helps
There are situations where honking makes sense.
Approaching a blind curve where you can’t see what lies ahead.
Driving through dense fog, when visibility drops to almost nothing.
Passing through poorly lit roads at night, where alerting others is important.
Warning senior citizens who may not hear approaching vehicles easily.
Getting the attention of children who are too absorbed in conversation to notice traffic.
But ask yourself honestly.
Is there a blind curve on every road?
Is there dense fog all the time?
Are senior citizens and distracted children everywhere?
If not—then why do we honk so much?
Mind you, honking is not the same as blowing the horn when needed. Honking is blowing it unnecessarily.
A Short Detour into History
Long before automobiles, there were bullock carts and horse carriages.
Drivers had no horns. They used their voices.
“Watch out.”
“Babu ji, zara sambhal ke.”
Then came bicycles—with bells.
The gentle trin-trin replaced the human voice. Since it didn’t strain the throat, people rang it freely.
Later came the bhonpoos.
Annoying. Loud.
Maybe that’s why we still call people who talk too much bhonpoos.
Technology marched on. Bhonpoos gave way to horns. Horns became louder. And today, we have pressure horns—powerful enough to startle your nervous system.
If you look closely, the horn is just an extension of the human voice.
Which means honking has quietly become part of how we express ourselves.
Why Do We Really Honk?
Have you noticed what happens when the signal turns red to green?
Someone honks.
Almost immediately.
Why?
Do we assume the driver in front is blind?
But if he’s driving, he clearly isn’t.
Which means he can see the signal too.
So what is the horn doing there?
Often, it’s doing nothing.
Except expressing impatience.
Does Honking Clear Traffic?
I doubt it.
Let me share an incident.
One evening, near Palam airport, traffic was barely moving.
A biker behind another kept honking aggressively. Finally, the biker in front looked back—annoyed—and gave way.
As soon as the honking biker overtook him, the man who had just given way started honking back. Loudly.
And then he shouted, “How are you feeling now?”
The honker went quiet.
Embarrassed.
That moment stayed with me.
We often understand discomfort only when it turns around and meets us face-to-face.
What Usually Lies Beneath Honking
Poor driving skills.
When people lack confidence, they honk.
Lousy time management.
Running late? Honk.
But is anyone else responsible for that?
Impatience.
We want everything faster. Instantly. That restlessness spills onto the road.
Here’s a question worth sitting with.
Do you really need a louder horn?
Or do you simply need a little more patience?
A Habit, Nothing More
Honking is an unconscious habit.
And like any habit, it can be changed the moment you realise it no longer serves you.
So the next time you’re on the road, notice your hand.
Notice the impulse.
Pause.
Then decide.
Will you honk like most people do?
Or will you choose awareness instead?