oad rage is a daily, unnerving phenomenon on the streets of Pakistan’s metropolitan cities. Every morning as I make my way through city roads, the aggression is nearly tangible. Its causes are many and diverse but its effects uniform: anger, anxiety and a lingering hostility that follows you long after the commute has ended.

It usually begins with minor irritations. A motorcycle makes an unexpected maneuver, a car cuts in front without an indicator, a pedestrian dashes across the street just as the light turns green. Mostly avoidable, these moves trigger outbursts of anger. Drivers lean on their horns, shout obscenities and make threatening gestures. The worst part is that the aggression is contagious.

One morning, as I was driving to work, a bus abruptly pulled in front of me, forcing me to slam on the brakes. My heart raced, my hands tightened on the steering wheel, and before I knew it, I was yelling at the driver, who couldn’t hear me but was the focus of my rage nonetheless. The incident set the tone for my entire day. The frustration I felt behind the wheel stayed with me, influencing my interactions at work and with my family. A small, thoughtless action had ignited a fire that smoldered well beyond the confines of my car.

The mental toll of such experiences is profound. The stress of driving in these conditions is unrelenting. Every trip seems to require pointless hyper-awareness and quick reflexes. The mind has to be constantly on high alert. This constant preparedness is exhausting for it leave no room for mental peace.

The repercussions extend into one’s personal life. The irritation experienced during the commute often bleeds into other interactions. I’ve found myself snapping at colleagues over minor matters or losing patience with family over trivial questions. The emotional fatigue from going through this daily makes it extremely difficult to maintain a calm and composed demeanor. It’s a vicious cycle—road rage, stress, more road rage, more stress.

The unpredictability of traffic disrupts a sense of routine. Leaving home early and earlier still to avoid the worst of the traffic only makes for more time spent on the road, more exposure to road rage and less time for rest and family. This initiates a relentless cycle of anxiety and exhaustion.

It’s clear that the chaos on the roads has a lot to do with broader societal challenges—disorder, impatience and having to fight for space and respect. The mental toll is particularly concerning. It’s not just the immediate anger that is problematic but also its lingering effect. This rage follows you like a shadow throughout the day. Your patience wears thin, everyday. Your tolerance for household noise goes down. You realise that it’s unfair to the family but it is difficult to control. It is a heavy load to carry; and not needed at all.

The daily battles on the road serve no productive purpose; they only drain our energy and diminish our quality of life. The time spent in heated confrontations or stuck in traffic could be better utilised for personal growth, or simply enjoying a few moments with loved ones. The anger and frustration that dominate our commutes add nothing of value, (no, they don’t build resilience), making the entire ordeal not just exhausting but also a tragic waste of time and emotional well-being.

The writer is the Head of Content at a communications agency