Understanding Indian Behaviour Overseas

Col Shiv Choudhary (Retd)
shivchoudhary2@gmail.com
There is a peculiar transformation that occurs when many Indians step into an airport or land on foreign soil. It feels as though someone presses a hidden switch that brings out the most polite, patient, and disciplined version of people who, just hours earlier, honked at traffic lights, jostled in queues, or argued with taxi drivers at minutest of monetary gains. At immigration counters, they speak softly, follow instructions with near-military precision and some even apologise to automatic doors for not opening fast enough. The guy who crosses roads diagonally in India now waits for the green pedestrian signal as if taking an oath of citizenship. The man who flung his luggage at home now handles his trolley with the tenderness of a newborn.
Why does this behavioural shift occur? Are Indians naturally rebellious at home but obedient abroad, or does the environment shape us far more than we admit? Indian society has long honoured flexibility over rigidity. “Adjust hojao” is a cultural commandment. Overcrowded buses, erratic queues, unpredictable systems and casual rule-bending are normalised. When a rule becomes inconvenient, we instinctively find a jugaad. If a checkpoint appears, the route changes. If a policeman is absent, the red light becomes optional, and incorrect turn becomes a correct one.
This holds across regions, though expressed differently. In North Indian states like Punjab, Haryana and Uttar Pradesh, a louder, more assertive public style is common. Queue merging, honking as a means of communication, heated arguments passed off as normal conversation, and a certain pride in outsmarting the system be a routine can be a routine. In the South, Tamil Nadu, Kerala and in metropolitan Mumbai, people generally show more patience in queues, lower tolerance for honking, and more predictable compliance with rules. Silence is more respected, aggression less glorified, and personal space more valued. Yet even here, bending rules isn’t alien; it is simply done more quietly and with less public drama, perhaps in a courteous manner.
Why the Instant transformation abroad? The shift begins the moment people realise they are entering a zone of strict systems and tight enforcement. The same person who negotiates a Rs 100 fine in India panics if a parking meter abroad flashes red. The traveller who argues about cabin baggage at an Indian airport pays extra abroad without debate. This is partly historical. For generations, laws in India were imposed from above. Following them was never internalised as civic duty; compliance became situational. After independence, the rulers changed but the psychology remained albeit the ruler disappeared, rules ruled.
Systems and enforcement are decisive factors. Discipline thrives only when systems work and enforcement is swift. In India, enforcement often inspires neither fear nor respect. Helmets appear only when police are visible. Signals can be jumped. Littering fines exist mostly on posters. Illegal structures vanish one day and reappear the next.
North versus south differences play out here too. In some states in India, rules are interpreted as negotiable. There the honking is instinctive, overtaking from any side is normal, loud dispute is a legitimate negotiation tool. Road rage, howling at weddings, drunken driving and physical expressions of celebration or anger are almost cultural. In Tamil Nadu and Kerala, honking is restrained, lane discipline comparatively better, and aggression socially discouraged. People stand in queues more naturally, speak more softly, and resist cutting lines because social disapproval is stronger. Mumbai, with its fast pace but orderly queues, often sets the gold standard for public discipline in India.
Abroad, however, everyone recalibrates instantly. No friendly inspector uncle, no deals, no influencing phone calls, no empty pockets and no exceptions. Break a law in Singapore or Germany, and consequences follow quickly and impersonally. Naturally, people align with the system because the system offers no room for negotiation.
A subtle psychological factor also operates. Indians abroad feel they represent the country. The same families who push through queues at Indian stations form perfect lines in foreign airports and also move along the right side of roads and paths. People who shout across rooms back home whisper in hotel lobbies. Children who scatter toys across homes, disarrays books and clutter study tables in Indian homes behave like angles till duty free shops on return.
Clean orderly spaces and what one observes influence behaviour. It is difficult to honk on quiet streets, litter on spotless pavements, throw empty water bottle, used disposal plates or wrappers on lush green road sides or talk loudly in peaceful cafés. Such an atmosphere is obtained all over abroad. Indians hold trash until they find a dustbin, wear headphones in public transport, carry empty bags to temporarily store waste and even forget the sound of their car’s horn. Interestingly, the same regional behavioural contrasts soften abroad. The assertive North Indian mellows down, the soft-spoken South Indian becomes even more rule-bound, and the average Mumbaikar continues with the queues they are already used to.
These transformations show Indians are not inherently indisciplined. We simply adapt to the ecosystem. People who resist seatbelts at home buckle up abroad inside a stationary Uber. Those who speed through tolls in India turn into accountants abroad while counting exact change. The enthusiastic English accent appears, often regardless of whether the listener understands it. But the moment the plane lands back in India, the switch flips. Indeed, some passengers start calling home or cab drivers while few hundred nautical miles away. The same people who segregated waste abroad revert to “sab ek dustbin mein daalo.” Cars return to parking half on pavements. Wheelchair demand mysteriously increases at Indian airports for boarding convenience. Jeans, caps and sneakers reappear as the “foreign-return” uniform. Some even wander into the wrong boarding queue with innocent expressions.
Can good behaviour become permanent, and that is an important question. Yes, but only by bridging the gap between situational and internal discipline. India must build environments where rule-following is practical, respected and collectively expected. This requires civic sense taught through practice, not textbooks, equal laws with no VIP exceptions, predictable, transparent systems, clean, functional public spaces, and public figures who model rule-following, not privilege along with an abrupt end to VIP cult, protocols and preferential treatment.
Indians have already proven that they can be disciplined and courteous as we watch them outside India. The challenge is replicating abroad like systems at home. When cities become cleaner, enforcement becomes fair, and public behaviour becomes predictable, a natural behavioural shift will follow. Until then, the grand Indian transformation from local chaos to international calm, will continue each time the boarding announcement says: “Passengers flying abroad…”
(The writer is a change maker and motivational speaker)