Indian women aren’t just watching Formula 1. They’re getting behind the wheel too

My driving instructor was a comical fellow: elbow resting on the half-opened window pane, lazily holding a paper cup full of tea while humming a Tamil song, as if we were on a road trip, not taking 6am lessons. When I expressed that I was fearful enough about learning to drive without having to worry that the hot beverage would be flung in my direction, he responded nonchalantly, taking a sip, “Why are you afraid, madam? Seeing a lady driver in the car, everyone else will be afraid.” This offhand remark stayed with me. Would this fear or judgment follow me everywhere if I sat in the driver’s seat?

The open road has often served as a metaphor for freedom, escape, autonomy and self-discovery. Yet, for Indian women, it remains a contested space, where we’re perpetually categorised as damsels in distress, disruptive inconveniences or defiant rebels. And while these reductive narratives persist, across sun-drenched circuits and dust-laced rally trails, a quiet shift unfolds.

“As soon as I get behind the controls of these machines, I’m a racer or a pilot, I don’t think of myself in terms of gender,” says Sneha Sharma, who got her flying and racing licenses before she got her driving license. As a commercial pilot and acclaimed F4 racer, she defies neat categorisation, nimbly balancing two demanding careers. “Any machine becomes an extension of you. When I’m racing, I’m pushing that machine to and beyond its limits, but as a pilot, I keep this massive machine within its limits.”