<p class="bodytext">The viral protest by a Bengaluru motorist who sat on the Old Airport Road after being held up by Karnataka Governor Thaawarchand Gehlot's convoy has struck a chord far beyond the immediate incident. Police later found that his claim about a pregnant wife in the vehicle was untrue, but that is beside the point. The public response to the incident reveals something deeper: a growing resentment against a system that routinely inconveniences thousands of ordinary citizens for the comfort of a few. The Governor was not rushing to a medical emergency, a natural disaster, or a matter of urgent state business. He was returning home after landing at the old airport. Yet traffic was halted, and commuters were made to wait indefinitely. There is no known specific security threat to him. The protection he receives is positional; it is attached to the office, not the person. That distinction should encourage greater restraint.</p>.'Why are citizens treated like subjects and third class people?': Anger over Bengaluru police blocking roads for Governor's convoy.<p class="bodytext">This problem is not confined to the Governor alone. Bengaluru's residents know all too well what it means to have highways sealed, arterial roads blocked, and even approach routes to the Kempegowda International Airport disrupted for VIP movement. Passengers have missed, or feared missing, flights because entire stretches were held up for convoys. Ironically, Karnataka has already demonstrated that a different approach is possible. Shortly after assuming office, outgoing Chief Minister Siddaramaiah opted out of the zero-traffic protocol, acknowledging the hardship it imposed on citizens. Signal-to-signal coordination replaced blanket road clearances. The sky did not fall.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Officially, only three state functionaries – the Governor, the Chief Minister, and the Home Minister – are entitled to zero traffic. In practice, pilot vehicles and police escorts have become status symbols for a much wider class of public representatives. Security has increasingly merged with prestige. Courts have repeatedly frowned upon the unnecessary disruption caused by VIP movement, and even the Prime Minister has spoken of the need for austerity in public life. Ultimately, this is a British-era mindset that survives long after colonial rule ended. Dismantling it requires more than the occasional rebuke; it needs a cultural shift within the political and administrative establishment itself. Public office is a responsibility, not a licence for privilege. Those who govern should experience the same traffic, delays, and frustrations endured by the people they serve. The protest on Old Airport Road was merely a symptom. Public patience is wearing thin, and those in power would do well not to take it for granted.</p>
<p class="bodytext">The viral protest by a Bengaluru motorist who sat on the Old Airport Road after being held up by Karnataka Governor Thaawarchand Gehlot's convoy has struck a chord far beyond the immediate incident. Police later found that his claim about a pregnant wife in the vehicle was untrue, but that is beside the point. The public response to the incident reveals something deeper: a growing resentment against a system that routinely inconveniences thousands of ordinary citizens for the comfort of a few. The Governor was not rushing to a medical emergency, a natural disaster, or a matter of urgent state business. He was returning home after landing at the old airport. Yet traffic was halted, and commuters were made to wait indefinitely. There is no known specific security threat to him. The protection he receives is positional; it is attached to the office, not the person. That distinction should encourage greater restraint.</p>.'Why are citizens treated like subjects and third class people?': Anger over Bengaluru police blocking roads for Governor's convoy.<p class="bodytext">This problem is not confined to the Governor alone. Bengaluru's residents know all too well what it means to have highways sealed, arterial roads blocked, and even approach routes to the Kempegowda International Airport disrupted for VIP movement. Passengers have missed, or feared missing, flights because entire stretches were held up for convoys. Ironically, Karnataka has already demonstrated that a different approach is possible. Shortly after assuming office, outgoing Chief Minister Siddaramaiah opted out of the zero-traffic protocol, acknowledging the hardship it imposed on citizens. Signal-to-signal coordination replaced blanket road clearances. The sky did not fall.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Officially, only three state functionaries – the Governor, the Chief Minister, and the Home Minister – are entitled to zero traffic. In practice, pilot vehicles and police escorts have become status symbols for a much wider class of public representatives. Security has increasingly merged with prestige. Courts have repeatedly frowned upon the unnecessary disruption caused by VIP movement, and even the Prime Minister has spoken of the need for austerity in public life. Ultimately, this is a British-era mindset that survives long after colonial rule ended. Dismantling it requires more than the occasional rebuke; it needs a cultural shift within the political and administrative establishment itself. Public office is a responsibility, not a licence for privilege. Those who govern should experience the same traffic, delays, and frustrations endured by the people they serve. The protest on Old Airport Road was merely a symptom. Public patience is wearing thin, and those in power would do well not to take it for granted.</p>