Fitness certificates and permits mean little if they are issued without
inspection. Our milestones should count not the distance we’ve built, but the lives we’ve managed to protect along the way. Until policy turns into
practice, India’s roads will continue to burn — and lives will continue to pay
the price – Sabir Nishat (sabirnishat554@gmail.com)
Two fatal bus fires in less than a fortnight expose a system where enforcement is hollow, accountability is missing, and safety is a matter of chance.
On October 24, a Hyderabad-Bengaluru sleeper bus went up in flames near Kurnool, Andhra Pradesh. Nearly 25 passengers were trapped inside, unable to escape as the fire consumed the vehicle within minutes.
The bus, operated by a private company, had all its documents in order – fitness certificate, tourist permit, and pollution clearance. But behind this façade of compliance lay a ticking time bomb: the vehicle had been illegally converted from a seater into a sleeper coach, lined with flammable interiors and blocked emergency exits. It had also accumulated 16 unpaid traffic challans.
Barely 11 days earlier, a similar inferno in Rajasthan told the same story. A Jaisalmer-Jodhpur bus caught fire after a short circuit in its illegally installed air-conditioning unit, killing 27 people. That vehicle, too, boasted a valid fitness certificate and a spotless inspection record.
Yet another highway horror happened on November 2 again in Rajasthan when a tempo traveller rammed a stationary truck in Phalodi district in Rajasthan, claiming 15 lives.
That is not all. In a lorry-bus collision on the Hyderabad-Bijapur Highway in Telengana on November 3, at least 20 individuals lost their lives.
Different places, same story – when enforcement is reduced to documents, human life becomes negotiable.
A system of broken cheques
Both the Kurnool and Jaisalmer fires expose a chain of institutional failures. The process of fitness certification – meant to ensure a vehicle’s mechanical and structural safety – has become a mere tick-box ritual. Inspections are often perfunctory, conducted without proper equipment or accountability. Vehicles routinely pass ‘fitness tests’ despite missing basic safety devices like fire extinguishers, hammers, or functional emergency exits.
The problem, however, runs deeper than callousness or negligence. India’s road safety governance is a tangled web. The Ministry of Road Transport and Highways (MoRTH) frames laws, the National Highways Authority of India (NHAI) builds roads, state transport departments issue licences, and local bodies handle infrastructure. With so many authorities and no single chain of command, accountability dissolves the moment disaster strikes.
This fragmented structure was precisely what the Sundar Committee on Road Safety and Traffic Management (2007) warned against. It had recommended a National Road Safety and Traffic Management Board to separate policymaking, regulation, and investigation. Nearly two decades later, the recommendation remains buried in files.
Enforcement sans teeth
The Kurnool bus continued to ply despite repeated violations because there is no integrated digital system linking road offences, vehicle fitness, and permit data. This loophole allows repeat offenders to operate with impunity.
Illegal modifications – sleeper conversions, extra berths, and makeshift air-conditioning systems – are rarely audited. Certification happens without inspection, and enforcement without coordination. Governance, it seems, operates without deterrence.
The consequences are staggering in terms of mishaps and mortality. According to MoRTH data, 4.8 lakh accidents in 2023 claimed 1.72 lakh lives — an average of 474 deaths every single day. Yet road safety grabs public attention only in the aftermath of tragedy.
Every crash is not just a human loss but an economic blow. The World Bank estimates that road accidents cost India 3-5% of its GDP annually—more than the nation’s health budget. Most victims fall in the 18-45 age group, the demographic that powers India’s workforce.
Conflict and Complacency
State transport departments are chronically understaffed and often compromised. The same authorities that issue permits and licences also investigate accidents – a clear conflict of interest. Even when negligence is proven, consequences are minimal: a temporary suspension here, a token fine there, and occasionally, a condolence announcement. Without criminal or professional accountability, deterrence disappears.
The road ahead: Reform through enforcement
India doesn’t need new laws as much as it needs independent enforcement of existing ones. Experts suggest that every intercity and sleeper bus should be inspected by accredited third-party agencies and linked to a central digital registry. States could form multidisciplinary teams — engineers, forensic experts, economists — to investigate crashes and publish transparent reports.
Central safety grants should be tied to measurable improvements in fatality rates and emergency response times. Fire-suppression systems, non-flammable interiors, and certified modifications must be made mandatory through surprise inspections. All buses should carry GPS-linked distress alerts, functional exits, and onboard fire kits. Ambulance response should be digitally tracked to ensure help arrives within the ‘golden hour’. These steps demand coordination, data transparency, and above all, political will – not more bureaucracies.
A call for a National
Road Safety Authority
India now urgently needs an independent National Road Safety Authority with statutory powers to set, monitor, and enforce safety standards across states. Countries like Sweden and Japan have dramatically reduced fatalities by empowering such central bodies to integrate engineering, enforcement, and education.
But road safety cannot remain the government’s job alone. It must evolve into a national culture of awareness and accountability vis-à-visschools, workplaces, and city planning. Technology can predict danger, but only decisive governance can prevent it.
The human cost of neglect
India’s highway expansion has far outpaced its safety governance. The right to safe travel, enshrined in the right to life under Article 21 of the Constitution, demands real enforcement, not symbolic paperwork.
Fitness certificates and permits mean little if they are issued without inspection. Our milestones should count not the distance we’ve built, but the lives we’ve managed to protect along the way.
Until policy turns into practice, India’s roads will continue to burn — and lives will continue to pay the price.