Seventeen states chose their own numbers. Assam did not choose at all. It issued its compounding notification twenty-five days after the 2019 amendment — the fastest in the country — and across eighty-eight rows it gave not one rupee of discount: every figure is the Act’s own. It is also the only state in eighteen that publishes four separate schedules, one for each class of officer. The price never changes between them; the permission does. The police may not compound overloading in Assam. The one lakh rupee dealer rows are reserved to senior transport officers. And on a second speeding offence the schedule offers no amount at all — it offers your licence. Then, five years later, the cabinet replaced the fine for two-wheeler document offences with a warning, which is generous and which settles nothing.
The Motor Vehicles (Amendment) Act, 2019 came into force at the beginning of September 2019. Assam issued its compounding notification on 23 September 2019.
Three weeks and four days. For comparison: Chhattisgarh took until October 2021 and Madhya Pradesh until March 2023. Every other state in this series is still working from a document written before the amendment — some of them from 2008 or 2011.
So Assam is the fastest responder of the eighteen, and that speed turns out to explain almost everything about what the document contains.
| Issued by | Government of Assam, Transport Department, Dispur, Guwahati-6 |
| Date | 23 September 2019 |
| Number | No. TMV.250/2019/67 |
| Power used | Section 200(1) of the Motor Vehicles Act, 1988, as amended by the Motor Vehicles (Amendment) Act, 2019 |
| Signed by | B.R. Samal, IAS, Principal Secretary to the Government of Assam, Transport Department |
| Supersedes | Notification No. TMV.293/99/48-A dated 8 January 2003 |
| Structure | Four separate schedules, A to D, one for each class of officer |
| Priced rows | 31 + 30 + 5 + 22 = 88, covering 35 distinct provisions |
The enabling clause is quoted here as printed, OCR damage and all, because the damage is part of what we are telling you about the source:
“In exercise of powers confened under Section 200(1) of the Motor Vehicle Act, 1988 as amended by the Motor Vehicle (Amendment) Act, 2019…”
Notification No. TMV.250/2019/67, 23 September 2019 — as printed in the scan“Confened” is “conferred”. The scan is poor and we deal with that honestly further down. What is not in doubt is the power: section 200(1), named precisely, and expressly tied to the Act as amended in 2019.
The notification it replaces was dated 8 January 2003. So Assam went sixteen and a half years without revising its compounding schedule, and then revised it within a month of being required to.
That pattern is worth holding on to, because it is probably the normal one. These documents are not maintained continuously. They sit untouched until a central amendment forces the issue, and then they are rewritten in a hurry. Several of the oddities later on this page look like the marks of a document written fast.
Separately from the notification, the Commissionerate of Transport’s own website carries one sentence that does more work than most of what is written about this subject:
“Normally offence cases detected by enforcement officials are sent to judiciary. However, U/S 200 of M.V. Act allows to compound by the transport officials some offences”
Read it slowly. The default is court. Compounding is the exception, it exists only because section 200 creates it, it applies only to some offences, and it is exercised by officials rather than by a judge.
Everything else on this page follows from that sentence. A compounding schedule is a list of the exceptions. Which is why the question of which officer may compound which offence is not administrative housekeeping — it is the boundary of a power to keep a criminal matter out of court.
Assam is the only state in eighteen that has drawn that boundary on paper.
Every other state in this series publishes a single table. An officer list sits beside it, and the implication is that anyone on the list may compound anything in the table.
Assam does something else. It publishes four tables, each headed by its own designated officers, each containing a different set of sections.
| Table | Who | Rows |
|---|---|---|
| A | Commissioner, Addl., Joint, Deputy and Asstt. Commissioner of Transport, District Transport Officer, and Enforcement Inspector | 31 |
| B | Commissioner, Addl., Deputy and Asstt. Commissioner of Transport, District Transport Officer, and Motor Vehicle Inspector | 30 |
| C | Commissioner, Addl., Deputy and Asstt. Commissioner of Transport, and District Transport Officer — no inspector of any kind | 5 |
| D | Police — SP, Addl. SP, Dy. SP, Inspector, Sub-Inspector; and for the Guwahati Commissionerate, Commissioner, Joint, Deputy and Asstt. Commissioner of Police, Inspector, Sub-Inspector | 22 |
The designations are quoted from the notification. Table B, for example, is introduced as “Designated officer:- commissioner of Transport, Addl. commissioner of Transpoft, Deputy Commissioner of Transport, Asstt. Commissioner of Transport, District Transport Officer and Motor Vehicle lnspector of the TransPort Department, Assam” — again, scan damage included.
The first thing we checked was whether a section costs different amounts in different tables, because that would be remarkable and also alarming.
It does not. Section 177 is five hundred rupees rising to fifteen hundred in table A, in table B, in table C and in table D. Section 180 is five thousand in all three tables that carry it. Section 196 is two thousand rising to four thousand wherever it appears. We went through every section that appears more than once and found no discrepancy anywhere.
It means the amount cannot depend on who stopped you. If two officers of different departments quote you different figures for the same section in Assam, one of them is wrong, and the notification says which.
What does depend on who stopped you is whether they may compound that offence at all.
Thirty-one rows, and the widest of the four. Figures as printed.
| Sl | Section | Offence, as described | First offence | Subsequent |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 177 | General offence | ₹500 | ₹1,500 |
| 2 | 178(1) | Travel without ticket | ₹500 | ₹500 |
| 3 | 178(2) | Travel without ticket | ₹500 | ₹500 |
| 4 | 178(3) | Refusal to ply contract carriage or carry passenger — (A) two and three wheeler, (B) in other cases | (A) ₹50 (B) ₹500 | (A) ₹50 (B) ₹500 |
| 5 | 179(1) | Disobedience of order of authorities | ₹2,000 | ₹2,000 |
| 6 | 179(2) | Refuse to supply information wilfully | ₹2,000 | ₹2,000 |
| 7 | 180 | Allowing unauthorised person to drive vehicle | ₹5,000 | ₹5,000 |
| 8 | 181 | Driving without licence | ₹5,000 | ₹5,000 |
| 9 | 182(1) | Driving vehicle during disqualification or suspension | ₹10,000 | ₹10,000 |
| 10 | 182(2) | Offences relating to conductor licence | ₹10,000 | ₹10,000 |
| 11 | 182B | Prohibition of registration and fitness certificate to oversized vehicles violating section 62A read with section 110 | ₹10,000 | ₹10,000 |
| 12 | 183(1)(i) | Driving LMV with excess speed | ₹2,000 | Impounding of driving licence as per section 206(4) |
| 13 | 183(1)(ii) | Driving HMV/MMV passenger with excess speed | ₹4,000 | Impounding of driving licence as per section 206(4) |
| 14 | 184(c) | Using mobile phone while driving | ₹5,000 | ₹10,000 |
| 15 | 186 | Driving when mentally or physically unfit | ₹1,000 | ₹2,000 |
| 16 | 189 | Racing and trials of speed | ₹5,000 | ₹10,000 |
| 17 | 190(2) | Violating air and noise pollution | ₹10,000 | ₹10,000 |
| 18 | 192 | Using vehicle without registration and fitness certificate | ₹5,000 | ₹10,000 |
| 19 | 192A | Vehicle without permit and violating permit conditions | ₹10,000 | ₹10,000 |
| 20 | 194(1) | Overloading goods vehicle | ₹20,000 and ₹2,000 per extra tonne | ₹20,000 and ₹2,000 per extra tonne |
| 21 | 194(1A) | Carrying over dimension projections | ₹20,000 | ₹20,000 |
| 22 | 194(2) | Refusal for weighing of goods carriages | ₹40,000 | ₹40,000 |
| 23 | 194A | Carrying excess passenger in transport vehicle | ₹200 per extra passenger | ₹200 per extra passenger |
| 24 | 194B(1) | Driver or passenger without seat belt | ₹1,000 | ₹1,000 |
| 25 | 194B(2) | Carrying children below 14 years without safety belt or child restraint system | ₹1,000 | ₹1,000 |
| 26 | 194C | Riding more than two persons on a two wheeler | ₹1,000 | ₹1,000 |
| 27 | 194D | Riding without helmets by both driver and pillion | ₹1,000 | ₹1,000 |
| 28 | 194E | Not providing way for emergency vehicles (fire service or ambulance) | ₹10,000 | ₹10,000 |
| 29 | 194F(a) | Using horn needlessly or continuously, or in a prohibited area | ₹1,000 | ₹2,000 |
| 30 | 194F(b) | Release of exhaust gas other than through the silencer | ₹1,000 | ₹2,000 |
| 31 | 196 | Driving without insurance | ₹2,000 | ₹4,000 |
Rows 12 and 13. Look at what is printed in the column headed “Amount of C.F for subsequent offence”.
“Impounding of Driving License as per Section206(4)”
Not an amount. Not a higher amount. No amount at all.
Across eighteen states and several thousand priced rows, this is the only place we have found where a compounding schedule answers the question “how much for a second offence?” with a consequence instead of a figure.
A first speeding offence in a light motor vehicle is two thousand rupees. A second one, on this schedule, is not priced. It is your licence.
Section 206 is the provision allowing an officer to demand and take temporary custody of documents. Sub-section (4) is the limb concerned with seizing a driving licence and forwarding it for disqualification proceedings, in specified circumstances including speeding offences.
So the schedule is not inventing a penalty. It is pointing at a power that already exists in the Act and saying: at the second offence, that is what happens, rather than a payment.
Two practical consequences, and they point in opposite directions.
This is worth stopping on, because it closes something.
Our Kerala page is built on a High Court holding that compounding ends the offence and leaves everything else standing — including the driving licence, which must go to the Licensing Authority even where the offence has been compounded. Our Chhattisgarh page found that the Act attaches a three-month disqualification to two of the sections every state prices, and that not one state schedule mentions it.
Assam mentions it. Not as a footnote — in the amount column, as the answer.
It does not do it everywhere. The helmet row and the motorcycle-safety row here carry a figure and say nothing about disqualification, exactly like the other seventeen states. But on speeding, one state has written into its schedule the thing the others leave a citizen to discover afterwards. That is the difference between a price list and a document that tells you what is going to happen to you.
The shortest schedule is the most interesting one. Its designated officers are the Commissioner, Additional, Deputy and Assistant Commissioners of Transport and the District Transport Officer. No Enforcement Inspector. No Motor Vehicle Inspector. No police.
| Sl | Section | Offence, as described | First | Subsequent |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 177 | General offence | ₹500 | ₹1,500 |
| 2 | 182A(1) | Offences relating to sale of vehicle by dealer, manufacturer or importer violating Chapter VII | ₹1,00,000 per vehicle | ₹1,00,000 per vehicle |
| 3 | 182A(3) | Offence relating to sale of unauthorised critical safety component, Chapter VII | ₹1,00,000 per component | ₹1,00,000 per component |
| 4 | 189 | Racing and trials of speed | ₹5,000 | ₹10,000 |
| 5 | 198 | Unauthorised interference with vehicle | ₹1,000 | ₹1,000 |
The two one-lakh rows — the dealer and manufacturer provisions, the largest figures in Indian traffic compounding — are reserved to officers of District Transport Officer rank and above.
On our Chhattisgarh page we wrote that its notification names twenty-four kinds of officer and never says which may compound which offence, so that on the face of it an Assistant Transport Sub-Inspector and the Transport Commissioner have identical powers — including over the one lakh rupee rows. We flagged it as a gap and said one of the few real checks a citizen can run cannot be run there.
Assam is what the answer looks like. A lakh rupees per vehicle is a figure that can end a business, and in Assam the officer who can impose it by agreement is a District Transport Officer or better. It is a short table and it is doing a lot of work.
Table B is table A with three differences, and we found them by comparing the two lists row by row rather than by reading a note, because there is no note.
Section 182A(4) — alteration of a motor vehicle by the owner, not permitted by the Act or rules. ₹5,000 per alteration.
A Motor Vehicle Inspector may compound it. An Enforcement Inspector may not.
Section 194(1) — overloading a goods vehicle. ₹20,000 plus ₹2,000 per extra tonne.
Section 194(2) — refusal to have a goods carriage weighed. ₹40,000.
An Enforcement Inspector may compound both. A Motor Vehicle Inspector may not.
Thirty-one minus two plus one is thirty, which is exactly what table B has. The arithmetic checks out, which is how we know the difference is deliberate rather than a transcription accident.
And the division makes sense once you see it. Overloading and weighing are roadside enforcement at a weighbridge, which is the Enforcement wing’s work. An illegal alteration is a condition of the vehicle, which is what a Motor Vehicle Inspector examines. Two inspector grades, each holding one power the other does not.
The police table has twenty-two rows. Setting it against table A produces the most practically useful list on this page.
| Section | Offence | Police may compound? |
|---|---|---|
| 194(1) | Overloading a goods vehicle | No |
| 194(1A) | Over-dimension projections | No |
| 194(2) | Refusal to be weighed | No |
| 194A | Excess passengers in a transport vehicle | No |
| 192A | No permit, or breach of permit conditions | No |
| 189 | Racing and trials of speed | No |
| 182B | Oversized vehicles, section 62A | No |
| 178 | Ticket and refusal-to-ply offences | No |
| 182A | Dealer, component and alteration offences | No |
| 198 | Unauthorised interference with a vehicle | Yes — and transport inspectors may not |
| 177, 179, 180, 181, 182, 183, 184(c), 186, 190(2), 192, 194B, 194C, 194D, 194E, 194F, 196 | The ordinary road offences | Yes |
Not one of the four overloading and excess-load rows appears in the police table. Neither does the excess-passenger row, and neither do permit offences.
In Assam, goods-vehicle weight is entirely a Transport Department matter. That is a clean, checkable proposition with a practical edge: if a police officer offers to settle an overloading charge on the spot in Assam, that offence is not in the table that names police officers.
We are not telling anyone to refuse an officer at the roadside. We are telling you what the notification says, and that the right response is to ask for the challan in writing with the section on it, which is something you are entitled to and which costs nothing to ask for.
Section 189 is in table A and table C. It is not in table D.
Racing on a public road is about as police-facing an offence as exists, so finding it reserved to the Transport Department is genuinely odd. The notification gives no reason, and we are not going to construct one.
What it means in practice is narrow but real: a racing matter stopped by the police is not one they can settle. On the Commissionerate’s own description of how this works, the default for anything outside the compounding tables is the judiciary.
Tables A and B turn on a distinction most people have never had explained, so it is worth two paragraphs.
A Motor Vehicle Inspector is, at root, a technical examiner. The grade exists to inspect vehicles: fitness, construction, permitted dimensions, whether a vehicle is what its papers say it is. An Enforcement Inspector belongs to the enforcement wing, whose work is on the road and at the weighbridge — checking vehicles in motion rather than vehicles presented for examination.
Seen that way, the split makes sense without anybody having to write it down. Weighing a lorry and pricing its excess tonnage is enforcement work, so it sits with the Enforcement Inspector. Deciding that a vehicle has been altered in a way the rules do not permit is an examiner’s judgement, so it sits with the Motor Vehicle Inspector.
We are reconstructing the logic, not reporting it. The notification states the two lists and gives no reasons at all. But the fit is close enough that the division looks designed rather than accidental, which matters because the alternative reading — that two rows were left out of one table by mistake — would make the document much less reliable than it appears.
Table D names two sets of police: the ordinary district hierarchy from Superintendent down to Sub-Inspector, and then, for the Guwahati Commissionerate, the Commissioner of Police, Joint, Deputy and Assistant Commissioners, Inspector and Sub-Inspector.
That is housekeeping rather than policy — a city with a police commissionerate has different rank titles, and a notification that only named Superintendents would have left Guwahati’s traffic police without the power. The sections they may compound are identical.
It is worth noticing anyway, because it tells you the document was drafted by somebody paying attention. A schedule written in three weeks that still remembers to name the Commissionerate ranks separately is not a careless schedule. That makes the things it leaves out — and there are several — more interesting, not less.
Put together, the thirty-five provisions sort into four groups, and this is the summary we would want if we were stopped in Assam.
No other state in this series allows that map to be drawn, because no other state publishes the information.
On the Chhattisgarh page we started doing something nobody publishes: putting each compounding figure next to what the Act itself provides for that section, so a reader can see whether a state is being lenient or not.
Chhattisgarh gave a scattered answer — a tenth of the statutory figure on one section, the whole of it on five others, with no visible rule.
Assam gives the simplest answer this exercise has produced.
| Section | What the Act provides | Assam | Where that lands |
|---|---|---|---|
| 177 | ₹500 first, ₹1,500 subsequent | ₹500 / ₹1,500 | the whole of it |
| 178(3) | ₹50 two or three wheeler, ₹500 otherwise | ₹50 / ₹500 | the whole of it |
| 179(1) | ₹2,000 | ₹2,000 | the whole of it |
| 180 | ₹5,000 | ₹5,000 | the whole of it |
| 181 | ₹5,000 | ₹5,000 | the whole of it |
| 182(1) | ₹10,000 | ₹10,000 | the whole of it |
| 182A(1) | ₹1,00,000 per vehicle | ₹1,00,000 per vehicle | the whole of it |
| 182A(4) | ₹5,000 per alteration | ₹5,000 per alteration | the whole of it |
| 182B | not less than ₹5,000, up to ₹10,000 | ₹10,000 / ₹10,000 | the ceiling, both limbs |
| 184 | up to ₹5,000, then up to ₹10,000 | ₹5,000 / ₹10,000 | the ceiling, both limbs |
| 186 | ₹1,000 / ₹2,000 | ₹1,000 / ₹2,000 | the whole of it |
| 189 | ₹5,000 / ₹10,000 | ₹5,000 / ₹10,000 | the whole of it |
| 190(2) | up to ₹10,000 | ₹10,000 | the ceiling |
| 192A | ₹10,000 | ₹10,000 | the whole of it |
| 194(1) | ₹20,000 plus ₹2,000 per tonne | ₹20,000 plus ₹2,000 per tonne | the whole of it |
| 194(2) | ₹40,000 | ₹40,000 | the whole of it |
| 194A | ₹200 per excess passenger | ₹200 per excess passenger | the whole of it |
| 194B, 194C, 194D | ₹1,000 each | ₹1,000 each | the whole of it |
| 194E | ₹10,000 | ₹10,000 | the whole of it |
| 194F | ₹1,000 / ₹2,000 | ₹1,000 / ₹2,000 | the whole of it |
| 196 | ₹2,000 / ₹4,000 | ₹2,000 / ₹4,000 | the whole of it |
| 198 | ₹1,000 | ₹1,000 | the whole of it |
Not one discount in eighty-eight rows. The Assam schedule is the Motor Vehicles Act, transcribed into a table.
Which, written three weeks after the Act changed, is probably the point. A department given a month to produce a schedule does not hold policy discussions about the right price for a helmet. It copies the figures Parliament has just published and gets the notification out.
Table A, row 14 is section “184 (c)” — “Using Mobile phone while driving” — and nothing else of section 184 appears anywhere in these eighty-eight rows. When this page was written we noted that Assam was the only state to price section 184 by limb, and we could not say why.
Our Meghalaya page found the answer, by going and reading section 200 itself. One published rendering of the list substituted in 2019 covers “section 184 only to the extent of use of handheld communication devices”. On that reading, the mobile-phone limb is the only part of section 184 any state may compound.
Which means this schedule was not being inventive. Drafted twenty-five days after the amendment, it priced exactly the limb Parliament permits and left the rest of section 184 to be prosecuted — while Chhattisgarh and Madhya Pradesh, drafting later, both price “driving dangerously” without that limitation.
The Meghalaya page sets out the caveat in full: the limitation appears in one of three divergent renderings of section 200, and this row is circumstantial support rather than proof.
Further down, this page records a discrepancy we could not explain: the Commissionerate’s website lists section 191 among the compoundable sections, and 191 appears in none of the four schedules in the state’s own 2019 notification.
It now looks like a question of dates. Section 191 is in the pre-2019 list in section 200(1) and absent from the 2019 substitution. If it was dropped, then the web page predates the amendment and this notification postdates it — drafted three weeks after the Act changed, it was already working from the new list.
Not a contradiction, then. An out-of-date web page beside an up-to-date instrument, which is the normal condition of government publishing and worth remembering whenever the two disagree.
Everything on this page is in a notification. That is how compounding works almost everywhere: the legislature creates the power in section 200 and the executive fills in the amounts, which means the amounts can be changed without going back to a legislature.
Himachal Pradesh has one regime that works the other way. On the sealed and restricted roads of Shimla the governing law is a state Act, and the fine, the settlement rate and the rank of officer who may settle are all in the Act’s own penalty section — so moving any of them took an amendment Act in 2026.
The difference shows in the one thing Assam does not have. This schedule names twenty-four kinds of officer and gives no appellate authority at all; the Shimla Act names two appellate authorities with periods of thirty and fifteen days. Figures in a notification are easy to update and silent about remedies. Figures in an Act are hard to update and come with the rest of the machinery attached.
Over five state pages this series has, without planning to, collected five different answers to the same question: where inside the Act’s range should a compounding figure sit?
| State | The answer it gives |
|---|---|
| Odisha | Never below the statutory minimum — held on eleven rows out of seventeen without exception |
| Telangana | Never above the statutory maximum — written into a proviso in terms |
| Andhra Pradesh | The published figure is itself a minimum; more may be taken up to the maximum |
| Chhattisgarh | No rule at all — a tenth on one section, the whole of it on five others |
| Assam | The maximum, everywhere. The schedule is the Act |
Five governments, none of them trying to prove anything, between them describing the entire range and every way of using it.
One row makes the spread concrete. Section 194D, riding without a helmet, carries a statutory figure of a thousand rupees.
| State | Helmet, first offence | Share of the statutory figure |
|---|---|---|
| Assam | ₹1,000 | all of it |
| Jharkhand | ₹1,000 | all of it |
| West Bengal | ₹1,000 | all of it |
| Gujarat | ₹500 | half |
| Chhattisgarh | ₹500 | half |
| Madhya Pradesh | ₹300 | under a third |
Same helmet, same head, same statute. Three hundred rupees in one state and a thousand in another. We have said it before on these pages and this table is the clearest version of it: a compounding figure is a statement of enforcement policy, not a measure of danger.
Section 194(1) is where the differences become serious money. The Act sets twenty thousand rupees plus two thousand per tonne of excess.
| On a 15 tonne excess | Base | Per tonne | Total |
|---|---|---|---|
| The Act, and Assam | ₹20,000 | ₹2,000 | ₹50,000 |
| Chhattisgarh | ₹10,000 | ₹2,000 | ₹40,000 |
| Madhya Pradesh | ₹10,000 | ₹1,000 | ₹25,000 |
Twice as much in Assam as in Madhya Pradesh for the identical load under the identical central provision. The fifteen tonne figure is not invented — it is close to the 15,090 kilogram excess recorded in the Kerala judgment our Kerala page is built on.
And whatever the figure, it buys less than people assume. The rule that a settled overloading charge still does not entitle the lorry to move with the load on it comes from the Supreme Court, not from any state’s table, so it reaches Assam exactly as it reaches Kerala. The money closes the offence. The offloading is what gets the vehicle back on the road.
This one is small and we are pleased about it.
On the Chhattisgarh page, five days of work ago, we flagged that section 178(3) — refusing to carry a passenger — is priced at a hundred rupees for a two or three wheeler, while the published statutory figure appeared to be fifty. We reported it as a measurement rather than a conclusion, because we had one rendering of the Act and no second source.
“Refusal to ply contract cariage or carry passenger A)Two and Three Wheeler B) In other cases” — (A) ₹50, (B) ₹500.
A state that has copied the Act exactly on all eighty-eight of its rows prints fifty.
That does not prove Chhattisgarh wrong, and a state is entitled to be checked against the bare statute rather than against a neighbour. But it is independent corroboration from a government document written within a month of the amendment, and it makes the Chhattisgarh row worth asking about rather than merely worth noticing.
The same page ran into a genuine problem. Section 177 is the catch-all and therefore the most charged provision in the country, and two normally reliable published texts gave different wording: one reading “may extend to five hundred rupees”, a ceiling, the other “shall not be less than five hundred rupees”, a floor. We printed both and refused to choose.
Assam prints ₹500 for a first offence and ₹1,500 for a subsequent one, on all four of its tables.
That settles the numbers: five hundred and fifteen hundred are the figures the Act works with, on both limbs. It does not by itself settle whether they are floors or ceilings. But it does make one thing clear that was not clear before: Chhattisgarh’s three hundred and nine hundred are three fifths of the statutory figures, not of something we had guessed at.
We have left the floor-or-ceiling question open on both pages, because the authenticated bare Act is what would close it and we have not read it.
Table B, row 11: “Alteration of motor vehicle by owner not permitted by Act Rules” — five thousand rupees per alteration.
That figure, with those words, has now turned up in four separate documents from four jurisdictions:
They agree because the Act fixes it with no range to exercise discretion over. The agreement is still worth having, because it settles the thing people argue about at the roadside: the two words “per alteration” are doing the work, and four lights are four alterations.
The notification we read is a scanned copy whose text layer is badly damaged. The letterhead comes out as “TransDort DeDartment DisDur”. “Conferred” is “confened”. “General” is “Ceneral”. Figures suffer too: the letter l stands in for the digit 1, and r0,000 appears where 10,000 is meant.
We have corrected only substitutions that are unambiguous on their face and confirmed by the same figure appearing cleanly elsewhere in the document — l,000 to 1,000, r0,000 to 10,000, s0 to 50, t.000 to 1,000. Every one of those figures appears undamaged in at least one other table, which is how we checked.
We have not corrected the English. Where we quote the notification, the spelling is the scan’s. We would rather a reader see that the source is imperfect than be handed a tidy version they cannot check.
If you are relying on a figure for something that matters, get a certified copy of notification TMV.250/2019/67. That advice applies to every page in this series, and it applies a little more firmly here.
The Commissionerate publishes something almost no other state does: a table of cases detected, cases disposed, cases undisposed and compounding fine realised, by category of offence. It is the only official enforcement data this series has been handed rather than had to infer.
| Nature of offence | Detected | Disposed | Undisposed | Compounding fine realised |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Without documents | 95,629 | 70,603 | 25,026 | ₹25,02,10,373 |
| Seat belt, helmet etc. | 90,661 | 64,532 | 26,129 | ₹3,22,66,000 |
| Overloading | 3,065 | 2,987 | 78 | ₹91,85,000 |
| Over speed and dangerous driving | 407 | 315 | 92 | ₹3,15,000 |
| Drunken driving | 65 | — | — | Sent to judiciary |
| Total | 1,89,827 | 1,38,427 | 51,400 | ₹29,19,76,373 |
The page does not say which period it covers, which is the first thing we would want and the first thing we could not get.
Documents and belts-and-helmets together account for 1,86,290 of 1,89,827 detections, which is 98.1 per cent.
Overloading is 1.6 per cent of cases. Over-speeding and dangerous driving together are 0.2 per cent — four hundred and seven cases in a state of three crore people.
That is not a comment on Assam. Every enforcement system in the world charges what is cheapest to detect, and a missing document is the cheapest thing in the world to detect: it requires no device, no calibration and no evidence beyond asking. Speed requires a camera or a gun and a certificate for it. Weight requires a weighbridge.
But it does mean something for a reader. The elaborate four-table structure above, with its reserved powers and its lakh-rupee rows, governs about two per cent of what actually happens. Ninety-eight per cent of Assam’s traffic enforcement is two rows.
In the compounding-amount column for drunken driving, the department has not written a figure. It has written “Sent to Judiciary”.
Section 185 is outside the compounding machinery everywhere in India. We have written that on every state page in this series, usually by inference from a section’s absence. Here a government has printed it in a table, in the column where money would otherwise go.
Sixty-five cases, none of them disposed by payment. If you are facing a section 185 matter there is nothing to settle and a magistrate decides, and our page on drink driving cases sets out what follows.
Nobody publishes an average, so we worked them out. The results are more interesting than we expected.
| Category | Realised ÷ disposed | What the schedule says | |
|---|---|---|---|
| Without documents | ₹3,543.91 | ₹5,000 to ₹10,000 depending on the document | not a round number |
| Overloading | ₹3,074.99 | ₹20,000 plus ₹2,000 per tonne | not a round number |
| Seat belt, helmet etc. | ₹500.00 exactly | ₹1,000 | exactly half |
| Over speed and dangerous driving | ₹1,000.00 exactly | ₹2,000 LMV, ₹4,000 HMV | exactly half, or a quarter |
Two of the four come out at a perfectly round number to the paisa. Sixty-four thousand five hundred and thirty-two cases at exactly five hundred rupees. Three hundred and fifteen cases at exactly a thousand. The other two do not.
We are going to set out the possibilities rather than assert one, because the honest position is that the table alone cannot distinguish between them.
Two things argue for taking the question seriously. The exactness is to the paisa in two rows and absent in the other two, which is a strange pattern for a single accounting method. And the overloading average — three thousand and seventy-five rupees against a scheduled minimum of twenty thousand plus two thousand a tonne — is about fifteen per cent of the floor, which no rounding explains.
This is the kind of question a written request answers and speculation does not.
51,400 of 1,89,827 cases were undisposed when the table was published. Most of them are in the two big categories: 25,026 document cases and 26,129 belt-and-helmet cases.
That matters more in 2026 than it did when the table was compiled. In S. Rajaseekaran v. Union of India on 28 September 2026, the Supreme Court addressed unpaid e-challans nationally — around ₹49,194 crore recoverable against ₹26,175 crore recovered — and approved consequences including impounding the vehicle, freezing online services, barring renewal of a registration certificate or a duplicate RC, withholding fitness and pollution certificates, blacklisting on the Parivahan portal, blocking transfers of ownership and suspending licence renewal for repeat violations.
An undisposed challan is no longer something that simply sits there.
On 27 or 28 June 2024 — reports differ by a day and we have not been able to settle which — the Assam Cabinet announced a change, briefed by the Chief Minister after a cabinet meeting.
Two-wheelers: fines for minor offences waived; document discrepancies attract a warning instead of a fine. Helmet fines continue.
Auto rickshaws and e-rickshaws: warnings only for the first four offences; fines from the fifth onwards.
Effect immediate; the Transport Department directed to frame standard operating procedures.
The Chief Minister’s reported words: “While we follow a zero-tolerance policy against violations of the law, we understand that there are some offences that might be inadvertent, at times.” And, separately and plainly: “If riding without a helmet, a fine will be imposed.” The reason given was the burden on economically vulnerable commuters and the treatment of auto rickshaw drivers.
Assam has the strictest compounding schedule in this series — the only one that takes the Act’s full figure on every row. Five years later, the same state announced that it would stop charging for the category that is half of all its enforcement, for the vehicles most people own.
Those are not contradictory. They are the same fact seen twice. A schedule written in three weeks by copying Parliament’s numbers produces a thousand rupee helmet fine and a five thousand rupee document fine in a state where a great many riders cannot absorb either. Something was going to give, and in June 2024 it gave.
The Chief Minister put the revenue at six to seven crore rupees over three years. Set that against the department’s own ₹25.02 crore realised from documents. The sensible reading is that the six-to-seven crore figure covers only two- and three-wheelers while the departmental table covers all vehicles over a different period — but neither source states its period, so we are offering that as a reading and not as a fact.
This is the part of the page we most want a reader to take away, and it is the part nobody says.
An amount under section 200. The prosecution for that offence cannot proceed. You get a receipt naming the section, the date and the amount.
The matter is closed, and you hold the proof that it is closed.
Not an exercise of section 200 at all, because section 200 requires an amount. It is an officer deciding not to proceed.
Nothing is settled. There is no receipt, no record you hold, and on the face of it nothing stopping the offence being taken up later.
So the 2024 policy is generous in the way that matters most immediately — you keep your money — and it leaves you with less than a five hundred rupee receipt would have. That is not an argument against it. It is a reason to ask for something in writing when you are warned, even though almost nobody will.
The auto rickshaw rule is warnings for the first four offences and a fine from the fifth. That requires somebody to know which number you are on.
If a warning generates no receipt and no entry a citizen can see, two questions follow and neither has a published answer. Where is the register that records warning number three? And how does a driver who believes this is his second contest a claim that it is his fifth?
A system that counts has to be able to show its count. Our Chhattisgarh page makes the same point about repeat-offence columns generally: a subsequent-offence figure needs a first offence behind it, and that is a matter of record you are entitled to ask about.
Compounding amounts under section 200(1) are fixed by notification. The 2019 schedule is a notification: numbered, dated, signed, gazetted.
We have not been able to find a notification giving effect to the June 2024 decision. The reports describe a cabinet decision taking effect immediately, with the department asked to frame standard operating procedures afterwards.
We are not saying the 2024 policy is invalid, that anybody should refuse a warning, or that a rider should insist on being fined. That would be absurd.
We are saying that if you are charged for a document offence on a two-wheeler in Assam today, there are two instruments in play: a published notification that says five thousand rupees, and a cabinet decision reported in the press that says a warning. Ask which one is being applied, and under what number.
That question is polite, answerable, and the sort of thing that gets a sensible reply. Put to the department rather than to an officer at the roadside — which is what an RTI application is for — the answer binds for everybody, not just for you.
A smaller discrepancy, found by comparing the department’s own two publications.
The Commissionerate’s page lists the compoundable sections as 177, 178, 179, 180, 181, 182, 183, 184, 186, 189, 190, 191, 192, 194, 196 and 198.
Section 191 is not in any of the four tables. It concerns the sale of a vehicle in a condition contravening the Act. It is on the website and it is not in the notification, and the notification is the instrument that counts.
Most readers will never meet section 191. We mention it because it is a reminder that a department’s explanatory page and its gazetted notification are different things, and when they disagree it is the notification you cite.
Half of Assam’s enforcement sits in one category on the department’s table, and the category has no section number against it. Working out what it contains is worth doing, because it is also the category the 2024 cabinet decision is about.
| Missing document | Section | Assam figure |
|---|---|---|
| Driving licence | 181 | ₹5,000 |
| Registration, or fitness certificate | 192 | ₹5,000, rising to ₹10,000 |
| Insurance | 196 | ₹2,000, rising to ₹4,000 |
| Permit, for a transport vehicle | 192A | ₹10,000 |
| Pollution certificate | 190(2) | ₹10,000 |
Now read those figures as a rider on a two-wheeler in a district town. Five thousand rupees for a licence left at home. Ten thousand for an expired pollution certificate. These are the Act’s own numbers, which is exactly the point — Assam did not choose them, it adopted them, and they were written for a country, not for this rider.
Ninety-five thousand six hundred and twenty-nine of these cases were detected. That is what the June 2024 decision is actually about, and seeing the figures makes the decision look less like leniency and more like an adjustment that was always going to have to happen.
Thirty-five provisions appear across the four schedules. These do not appear in any of them.
Most of that list matches what other states say out loud when they publish a non-compoundable list, and the 190(1)/190(3) split is a sensible one. The absence of 199A is the one we would most like explained, because it is new law and a family facing it has no counter to go to.
Assam does not publish a non-compoundable list. We are inferring from absence, which is weaker than reading a statement, and we would rather say so than let a list of bullet points look more authoritative than it is.
Every one of the four tables has a subsequent-offence column, and in Assam it does real work: section 177 triples, insurance doubles, the mobile phone row doubles, and speeding stops being a payment altogether.
Which makes one question worth asking on any Assam challan where the higher figure is being applied: what was the first offence, and when?
It is not a hostile question. A subsequent-offence figure is only correct if there is a prior offence behind it, that prior offence is a matter of record, and a record can be produced. On the speeding rows the stakes are at their highest, because the consequence of being treated as a repeat offender is not a larger bill but the loss of the licence.
Ask it in writing and keep the answer. If the answer is that there is no earlier record, the higher column does not apply and the lower one does.
Step six is the one most worth asking about, and the fastest way to get an answer that applies to everybody rather than just to you is to ask the department for the instrument itself. An RTI application costs five hundred rupees to have drafted, asks one question, and would close the biggest gap on this page.
Three questions, one application. The answers would be useful to every rider in the state and we would put them on this page.
Two things on this page are now settled, and both of them make Assam’s drafting look better than we could prove at the time.
Row 14. We said we could not explain why this schedule prices “184(c) Using Mobile phone while driving” and nothing else of section 184 across all eighty-eight of its rows. The answer is in the Act. Section 200(1) does not make section 184 compoundable; it makes clause (c) of the Explanation to section 184 compoundable — one limb only. Assam, drafting twenty-five days after the amendment came into force, read that and copied the limb. Several larger states did not, and price section 184 as “driving dangerously” without limitation. We have printed the authentic text of the substituted sub-section on our Nagaland page.
Rows 12 and 13. We noted that where other states put a figure in the subsequent-offence column, Assam put “Impounding of Driving License as per Section 206(4)”, and we called it an unusual thing for a schedule to do. It is not improvisation. Section 200(2) itself provides that compounding does not exempt an offender from proceedings under sub-section (4) of section 206. Assam was writing down what the Act already said. Seventeen other schedules in this series left it out.
One thing on this page remains open. Section 177A is absent from all four of these tables, and we had no explanation. The explanation is that section 177A was not compoundable at all until 13 January 2025, when the Jan Vishwas Act’s substitution of section 200(1) came into force. Assam could not have priced it in 2019. Whether Assam has issued anything since, we do not know.
This page flagged a mismatch it could not resolve: the Transport Commissionerate’s website describes section 191 as compoundable while the state’s own notification of 23 September 2019 does not mention it. We could not tell which was wrong.
Neither was. Mizoram’s compounding notification is dated 1 August 2018 and its section list, which that department quotes in full on its own website, includes section 191.
So a document written before September 2019 was correct to list 191, and a document written after was correct to leave it out: the 2019 amendment substituted the list in section 200(1) and dropped it. The website had not fallen behind the notification. They were two accurate statements of two different versions of the law.
The general lesson is one we would rather state than keep rediscovering: before treating a state document as careless, check what the Act said on the day it was written. It applies to every page in this series, this one included.
This page’s row 14 — “184(c) Using Mobile phone while driving”, and nothing else of section 184 across eighty-eight rows — was the thing we could not explain when we built it, and which the Act later explained.
Assam is no longer alone. Chandigarh’s schedule of 6 December 2019 prices row 14 as “184 (only for use of handheld communication devices)” — the limitation written out in words rather than implied by a clause letter.
The two notifications are eleven weeks apart, from governments at opposite ends of the country, and both were drafted with the 2019 amendment open in front of them: Assam at twenty-five days, Chandigarh at ninety-six. States that re-notified years later, or never, price section 184 as “driving dangerously” without limitation.
Chandigarh also does the other thing this page was alone in doing. Where rows 12 and 13 here put “Impounding of Driving License as per Section206(4)” in place of an amount, Chandigarh’s speeding rows carry the same note. Two instruments out of twenty-six mention section 206(4) at all, and they are the two fastest off the mark.
This page records that Assam issued its compounding notification on 26 September 2019 — twenty-five days after the 2019 amendment commenced — and we have repeated across the series that this was the fastest response of any jurisdiction we had looked at.
It was not, by three days. The Andaman and Nicobar Police publish a ninety-seven row spot fines list whose authority heading cites a gazette notification of the A&N Administration, No. 224 dated 23 September 2019 — twenty-two days after commencement.
One qualification, because it matters. We have not read notification No. 224; it is cited by number and date in the heading of a published list, and we could not find the instrument. Your notification we have read. So this is a citation beating a document, and if No. 224 turns out to be narrower than it appears, the record will go back to twenty-five days and we will say so.
What does not change is the rest of what this page says about Assam: eighty-eight rows, every one of them at the statutory maximum, issued within a month of the law changing. Three days is a detail. Being among the two fastest administrations in India on this is not.
Almost every line of that list is something the Transport Department either holds or does not, which makes it a written-question problem rather than a research problem. One RTI application covering the three questions above would close most of it, and we would put whatever comes back on this page with the reply attached.
We also noticed, adding up the department’s own columns, that the disposed figures sum to 1,38,437 against a stated total of 1,38,427, and the undisposed to 51,325 against a stated 51,400. Small discrepancies in a published table, mentioned because we checked and because a reader should know we did.
The schedule, the officer categories, the enabling clause, the number, the date, the signatory and the supersession come from the scanned notification published on a Government of Assam site. We read it four times: once to identify it, once to count the tables and columns, and twice to take the rows, because a first pass at a damaged bilingual scan is reliably wrong.
The enforcement statistics and the quoted description of compounding come from the Commissionerate of Transport’s own website. The averages are our arithmetic on those figures and nobody else’s. The comparison figures for the Act come from published renderings of the 2019 amendment rather than the authenticated statute. The June 2024 decision comes from two Assam newspapers reporting the same cabinet briefing, and we have flagged where they differ.
Everything here was written for this page. Nothing is copied from a commercial challan website, and where we could not establish something we have said so.
Checking a figure against a published table does not. Nor does asking which officer may compound what, or asking for an instrument by number.
An advocate is the right answer when a licence has actually been impounded and a disqualification proceeding has started; when a goods fleet or a permit is exposed, because the money stops being the point; when a prosecution has begun rather than a challan being pending; and where an accident is involved, since the driver’s duties after an accident sit outside compounding altogether.
Court work is for your advocate, whose fee is engaged and paid by you directly; we do not quote, collect or share it.
There is no fee to ask us anything and no fee to be introduced to an advocate. Every document we draft shows its own price on its own service page before you commit to it, and whatever an advocate charges stays entirely with the advocate — we take no share of it and never have.
On this page in particular, a good many readers will turn out to need nothing at all. If you were warned rather than fined, or your figure already matches the schedule, the correct advice is to do nothing and keep the paper. We would rather tell you that than sell you a letter.
The state publishes its own price list and almost nobody has read it. Notification F 5-5/VIII-Trans/2021 of 25 October 2021, issued under sub-section (1) of section 200 and sitting on the department’s own gazette archive — one of only two post-2019 schedules in India. Forty priced entries, twenty-four kinds of officer down to a Head Constable, and a repeat-offence column used on nineteen of forty rows where Madhya Pradesh — same 1994 rulebook, same design — uses it on six of thirty-one. We measured every row against the Act: a tenth of it on one section, the whole of it on five, one row above the Act and one below its floor. Plus the three-month disqualification that no schedule in seventeen states has ever mentioned.
ReadFifteen pages of schedules answer one question — what does it cost. Kerala answers the one that matters after you have paid. Following the Supreme Court, the High Court has held that even after a section 194 offence is compounded, the excess load cannot be permitted to stay on the vehicle — and directed that the driving licence goes to the Licensing Authority under section 19(1) even where the offence is compounded under section 200. Paying ends the offence. It does not authorise the condition, and it does not stop the second track. Also here: ₹5,000 per light for after-market LEDs, and Kerala’s 726 AI cameras — 1.3 crore challans, ₹900 crore issued, ₹300 crore collected, and ₹34.8 crore of payments frozen over questions about which cameras can even read speed.
ReadEvery schedule in this series was drafted before Parliament rewrote the penalties in 2019 — Telangana’s 2011, Andhra Pradesh’s 2008, Maharashtra’s 2016. Madhya Pradesh issued one on 6 March 2023, superseding all others. It is the only post-amendment list in fifteen states. And it prices three ways at once: by section, by first or second offence, and by what you drive. We checked every row — the repeat column changes the figure on only six of thirty-one, and those six turn out to be a coherent set. Also here: ₹1,00,000 per vehicle aimed at dealers not drivers, ₹300 for a helmet (the lowest anywhere), a load-projection row priced by what you are carrying, and 19 categories of officer including District Magistrates.
ReadBoth states carry a “Compounding” link. Open Andhra Pradesh’s and it is a different law altogether — not section 200 but section 86(5), the money taken instead of suspending your permit. G.O. Ms. No. 332 of 2008, rule 217, priced by what the vehicle is and what it carries: overload ₹2,000 + ₹100 per 100 kg, ₹200 per hour for missing your timings, ₹500 per excess big animal. Medium goods pay half, light goods a third. And AP is the only state in fourteen that publishes the other half too — a prosecution table naming the eight offences no payment will ever close. Its note four is the sting: the published fees are minimums, not prices.
ReadThirteen states in, we finally have the document itself. Every page so far ended the same way — the amounts live in a notification under section 200 that nobody can open. Telangana publishes its own. G.O. Ms. No. 108 of 18 August 2011: eighteen offences, two columns by vehicle, the officers who may take the money — and a proviso that does what nothing else in this series does. It writes the state’s own ceiling: the compounding fee shall not exceed the maximum fine prescribed in the relevant penal section. Odisha showed the floor; this is the roof. One problem: it is dated 2011 and the Act changed in 2019. Also here: the real 80–90% discount of December 2023, a half-rate for agriculturists, and why the police have had to call the yearly “discount” messages fake and fraudulent.
ReadTwelve states in, this is the one that shows you the line. Odisha’s One Time Settlement Scheme for e-challans pending on 31 July 2025 is not a flat discount. Six rows say “50%”. Eleven say a rupee figure — and that figure is always the exact statutory minimum the Act prescribes, never half. Seventeen rows, no exceptions. Where Parliament wrote “may extend to” the state halved it; where Parliament wrote “not less than” the state stopped dead at the floor. We reproduce all seventeen. Also: what the annexure leaves out — helmet, seat belt, insurance, licence, overloading — the notified speed limits under s.112, and a scheme that names no power and carries no legible date.
ReadThree states have now printed a composition rate in their own rules, and all three measure delay differently. Karnataka counts months. Tamil Nadu uses bands of days. Uttarakhand counts weeks — and sets the rate by what you drive. Rule 45: one rupee a week for an invalid carriage, five for a motor cycle, fifty for everything else — and a proviso capping the lot at ₹100. So a lorry hits the ceiling in a fortnight and an invalid carriage takes two years. Unlike Tamil Nadu, transport vehicles are in. Also here: the first appeal fee printed anywhere in eleven states (₹20 and ₹25), the Deputy Transport Commissioner (legal and tribunal), and a year in which challans rose 118.77% while collections rose 37.07%.
ReadTen states in, and this is the one that is open about exactly one half of itself. Tamil Nadu publishes no compounding amounts for road offences and no officer schedule — and then prints four composition rates inside its own rules, which almost nobody is ever shown. Rules 98, 105-A, 109 and 113: a late registration, a transfer not reported, a new registration mark, a change of address. ₹40 up to thirty days, ₹75 to sixty, ₹100 after — and ₹150 in the top slab of rule 113 alone. Each rule says the money is taken in lieu of any action under section 177, which no other state spells out. Also here: the enabling clause cites a section 311 that does not exist in the Act, rule 98 quietly leaves transport vehicles out, the founding notification carries no date, and section 200 is absent for the seventh time in seven tests.
ReadNine states in, the range has turned out to be enormous — and Gujarat sits at the bottom of it. Chief Minister Vijay Rupani announced the cuts on 10 September 2019: triple riding at ₹100, where West Bengal takes ₹1,000 and three months of your licence. Helmet and seat belt ₹500. A pollution offence ₹1,000, where Bengal takes ₹10,000 with a disqualification. Ten times, for the same words in the same Act. Then on 4 December 2019 the Transport Minister announced helmets would be optional except on highways and panchayat roads — we print what was said, flag that we could not find the notification, and say plainly that this is no reason to ride without one. Also here: rule 107, the first appeal procedure we have been able to read in nine states, and rule 98A’s thirty-day grievance clock for app aggregators.
ReadTwo things, and the first one saves money today. Rules 37 and 45 of the Karnataka Motor Vehicles Rules still compose a late registration renewal and a late transfer intimation at twenty-five rupees a calendar month, capped at one hundred rupees — figures written in 1989 and never updated, and the two lapses vehicle owners get caught by most. We quote both rules in full. The second thing is bigger: Karnataka is where somebody asked out loud whether a state may cut a traffic fine. The Centre said yes on 11 September 2019, Karnataka took legal opinion, cut on 21 September, and the Centre then said states had no authority at all. Both were right about different things — a state cannot touch the fine a court imposes, but section 200 gives it the compounding amount. That distinction is the key to every other state page on this site, and this is where it surfaced.
ReadEvery state publishes what you can pay. Maharashtra is the only one that also published what you cannot — a list of nine non-compoundable offences. Two of them are things your neighbours let you settle for money: driving without a permit (₹10,000 in both Jharkhand and West Bengal) and overloading (₹20,000 plus ₹2,000 a tonne in Jharkhand). Here there is no amount at all — a court decides, both the driver and the owner are charged, and a repeat permit offence carries a minimum three-month sentence. The same document shows a Police Constable as the compounding authority for about 95 of 104 offences, the lowest rank floor of any state we have examined and the exact opposite of Bengal. Its money is from 2016 and stale, it is still sitting on a government server, and we say so.
ReadFive states in, every page had a hole — Haryana told us who may issue a challan but never what it costs, Jharkhand the reverse. Bengal prints both halves in one notification. Schedule I names who may compound, and for oversized vehicles under section 182B that is the Director of Transport alone, one officer for the whole state. Schedule II runs to twenty-six rows and six columns, because Bengal is the only state that prints the section you broke and the section you are charged under separately — which makes a challan testable on its face. We reproduce both schedules. Then overloading, which is deliberately left out: it runs on its own notification that suspends the permit on a second offence and cancels it on a third, with the registration suspended behind it. Also: a ₹10,000 figure where Jharkhand charges ₹1,000, three rows where a licence disqualification rides along with the payment, a rule 349 that may crack our five-state pattern, and a police page still quoting superseded notifications.
ReadA District Transport Officer in Patna wrote that traffic challans could not be taken up at a National Lok Adalat. Somebody took that letter to the High Court — and fourteen months later the State had notified a scheme letting old e-challans be closed at fifty per cent, with the Chief Justice directing where the counters should stand and that no money be taken in cash. This page traces the whole sequence from Rani @ Rani Tiwari v. State of Bihar to Notification No. 3261 of 30 April 2026, sets out exactly which offences the scheme covers — and the one it leaves out, which is overloading, the most expensive offence in the Act. Also: why the Lok Adalat did not reduce anything, a correction to our own earlier pages, section 200 missing for the fifth state running, and the Supreme Court order pulling from the other end.
ReadThree state pages in we had to keep telling readers the amounts could not be printed, because the document fixing them was unreachable or a photograph. Jharkhand broke that. Its Transport Department memo Pari. Ayu.-192/2016 carries a five-column schedule — section, offence, penalty before 1 September 2019, penalty after, and the compounding fee — and we reproduce all twenty-five rows. Then the harder half: section 185 and a dozen others are not in it at all, section 194A has an empty compounding cell, and a second speeding offence carries a licence impoundment instead of a sum. Also here: three rows whose penalty columns appear transposed, the three-month deferral of September 2019, the state rules of 2001 that will not open, a Delhi address printed on the state enforcement page, and the Supreme Court order of 28 September 2026 that turns an unpaid challan into a blocked registration.
ReadAcross three state pages we kept asking the same question — who is actually allowed to stop you and write this — and Haryana is the first state that answers it. Rule 225 of its 1993 rules, substituted in 2021, appoints seventeen categories of officer and lists the sections each may challan under. We reproduce the whole schedule. The police floor is an ASI, their list is shorter than the transport list, and overloading under section 194 does not appear against the police at all — it is transport department work. Two provisos matter: five officers cannot touch private buses, and police powers widen outside municipal limits. Section 200 is missing from the enabling provisions for the third state running, so the amounts come from a notification we could not find — and we say so rather than copying a rate list.
ReadOur second state page, and the finding at the top of it is one the High Court only said out loud in August 2026: Uttar Pradesh has no separate traffic police cadre, and the Bench asked the government to decide on creating one. The state’s own rules contain no compounding provision — section 200 is not even among their enabling sections — so the amount comes from a notification, dated June 2020, and the schedule everybody quotes online is older than the 2019 amendment. An appeal in a licensing matter goes to the Deputy Transport Commissioner of the Zone, not the RTO. Plus the High Court’s own Payment Setu portal across 74 district courts, the school-vehicle chapter nobody mentions, number portability, and why this page carries no compounding figures.
ReadA stay order is not a thing you can go and collect. It is an order made inside a suit, which is why the document that has to exist first is the plaint and not the application. The Supreme Court set three requirements, and most applications die on the third: irreparable injury means an injury that money at the end of the case cannot adequately repair — so “I will lose money” is usually not enough. Before any of that there is a gate: section 41 of the Specific Relief Act lists eleven situations where an injunction cannot be granted at all, including stopping a criminal proceeding, and one added in 2018 for infrastructure projects. Also the ex parte order and the thirty days in Rule 3A that people mistake for a result, what happens to somebody who breaks an injunction, and the appeal that runs both ways.
ReadAlmost nobody reading this chose arbitration. It was in the loan agreement, the builder agreement, the insurance policy — a clause nobody negotiated. So the first question is not how arbitration works; it is whether that clause can be used the way the other side says. On the two commonest versions the Supreme Court has said no. A party interested in the outcome cannot alone appoint the arbitrator (2019), and a Constitution Bench held in November 2024 that unilateral appointment clauses in public-private contracts violate Article 14. And if you are a consumer, the clause does not shut the consumer forum. Plus the twelve-plus-six month clock, the grounds for setting an award aside in the statute’s own words, the 2025 ruling on when a court may modify one, and why filing a challenge no longer freezes the award.
ReadThe one rule a court applies against you even if the other side never mentions it. Section 3 says a late suit shall be dismissed although limitation has not been set up as a defence, so hoping nobody notices is not a plan. We set out how the Schedule really works — and why the third column, saying when time starts, decides more than the number of years does. What restarts the clock (a signed acknowledgement, a recorded part payment) and the condition both carry. Why delay can be condoned in an appeal but never in a suit. The Covid exclusion of 15 March 2020 to 28 February 2022, still worth nearly two years and still forgotten. And section 27, where losing the period does not just bar the suit — it extinguishes the ownership.
ReadEvery page on this subject opens by saying mediation is voluntary. That is true of one of the three mediations you can end up in. Before a commercial suit it is compulsory, and the Supreme Court has treated compliance as jurisdictional — skip it and the plaint is liable to be rejected. And a court can refer you without your consent at all, unlike arbitration. We also did the thing nobody seems to have done: checked how much of the Mediation Act 2023 is actually in force. The commencement notification we could find switched on the regulator and the rule-making power — not pre-litigation mediation, not confidentiality, not enforcement. Plus the section 12A judgments from 2022 to October 2025, what is privileged, and the four grounds on which a settlement can be undone.
ReadTwenty pages on this site mention it and none of them explained it, so here it is from the only angle that matters: the point of view of the person being asked to sign. A Lok Adalat cannot decide anything — the Supreme Court said so in 2008 — it only records what you agree to. And section 21(2) makes that record a civil decree against which no appeal lies to any court. Not a suit to set it aside, and not objections in execution: the Supreme Court shut both doors in November 2025, in a case where a man lost a property he had bought for four crore rupees through an award he was never party to. Also what can and cannot be referred, the divorce line nobody reconciles, the court fee refund, why the traffic challan discount has no instrument behind it, and the Permanent Lok Adalat, which can decide against you.
ReadThe words are not interchangeable in India and the difference has consequences. Who may appear for you, where notaries, legal consultants, document writers and “case managers” fit, and how to spot somebody who is not entitled to practise.
ReadA three-question test that does not depend on how frightened you are, an honest list of when the answer is no, what the Advocates Act actually restricts, why a power-of-attorney holder cannot argue your case, and who is entitled to free legal aid.
ReadHow to verify that somebody is really enrolled, why specialisation by forum beats seniority, the Bar Council rules that protect you before you sign anything, the conflict question to ask on day one, and the question almost nobody asks.
ReadWhy no honest Indian site publishes an advocate’s fee, the fee structures actually used, why “no win no fee” is not permitted here, what is a fee and what is an expense, and how to agree it so there is no argument later.
ReadWhat to take, in what order, what to say about the facts that hurt you, what a vakalatnama actually does and how long it lasts, what to write down before you leave, and what should happen in the first week afterwards.
ReadWritten for both sides. Why a single line at three thousand five hundred rupees decides which of two separate systems your tenancy is in, the closed list of grounds under Section 14, the first-default protection most tenants never hear about, the summary procedure under Section 25B that is lost by doing nothing, notice under Section 106, and why changing the locks is the worst thing a landlord can do.
ReadThree different suits wear one name. Whether you are asking for a share, for possession, or for a document to be undone — and why each has a different clock. Self-acquired against coparcenary, a daughter’s right by birth, why a mutation entry is not ownership, why GPA and will papers are not a conveyance, and the two decrees a partition suit ends in.
ReadOne “no” at the counter is not where the law ends. The three doors, in the order the law gives them — the police station, the DCP under Section 173(4), the Magistrate under Section 175(3) with its new affidavit condition — plus the complaint case where the accused is now heard first, and why the officer refusing you is sometimes right.
ReadThe distinction everything rests on, and why it is decided on the medical record by another doctor rather than by how bad the outcome was. Why the complete record is the first step and must be obtained before you complain, consent as a separate and often stronger ground, and the three roads — compensation, prosecution and professional discipline — of which only one pays.
ReadThe one law that can take back property you already signed away. Section 23 and what Urmila Dixit (2025) settled about eviction and possession, the Maintenance Tribunal before a Sub-Divisional Magistrate, the ceiling on the monthly amount and the route that has none, whether you may actually bring a lawyer, and where a daughter-in-law’s right of residence fits.
ReadFees, transfer certificates, admission and expulsion — and why the door that opens is the Directorate of Education rather than a court. What the Delhi High Court held in May 2026 about a hike at the start of a session against one imposed mid-session, why a certificate cannot be held against your dues, and how to ask the regulator for something it can actually do.
ReadFive different papers, five different answers to “what if I do nothing”. A private legal notice against a civil summons, a criminal summons, a tribunal notice and a police notice; the thirty days that is directory and the hundred and twenty that is not; ex parte orders and the thirty days to undo one; and why complying with a Section 35(3) police notice now protects you.
ReadWhat a family does in the first twenty-four hours, and the two rights nobody will offer you: default bail under Section 187(3), which turns on sixty or ninety days rather than the merits and dies the day the chargesheet is filed, and release under Section 479 after half the maximum sentence — a third for a first-time accused. Plus sureties, conditions, and why a bail order is not release.
ReadThe court is not deciding which parent is right. It is deciding one thing — the welfare of the child — and that re-sorts every argument you were planning to make. Custody, guardianship and access are three different things; Section 6(a) gives a starting position for a child under five and not a rule; joint custody is a Law Commission recommendation and not a statute. Plus interim orders, access as the child’s right, parental alienation, passports and travel, and what to do when an order is broken.
ReadGetting the content taken down and getting the person acted against are two different cases, with different addressees and different clocks. The Grievance Officer’s twenty-four hours and fifteen days, the twenty-four hour rule for nudity and morphed images, the thirty-day appeal almost nobody uses, why Shreya Singhal explains the wall you hit, Zero FIR, preservation requests, and the Section 63(4) certificate that decides whether your screenshots count at all.
Read“The marriage is over” is not a ground — Parliament never made irretrievable breakdown one, and no Family Court can act on it. So the case turns on what you can PROVE. The Section 13 grounds as they actually read, what cruelty means after Samar Ghosh and what it does not, desertion and its two years, the one-year bar, and why Section 23(1)(a) destroys a manufactured ground.
ReadThe danger is rarely a confrontation — it is a false complaint at a police station, and from that moment the State does the family’s work for it. What answers it is her own statement before a Magistrate. Plus the protection petition, why consenting adults are covered married or not, the three-day rule when you move, and the honest Delhi position on the thirty-day notice. For adults only.
ReadThe paper in your hand picks your procedure — not the amount, and not how obviously you are in the right. On a cheque, a note, a written contract or a guarantee, Order XXXVII gives you a suit in which the defendant has no right to defend. Plus the three-year clock, the written acknowledgment that restarts it, why a cheque bounce complaint is not a recovery suit, the mandatory mediation that gets commercial suits rejected, and why winning is not the same as being paid.
ReadTwo questions come before the facts: which door, and how much time is left. Section 6(1) built the Local Committee for the two situations in which the office route is useless — fewer than ten workers, or a complaint against the employer himself. Section 9(1) starts a three-month clock from the last incident, extendable by three, and recent decisions treat the outer edge as a wall. Plus who counts as an employee, what counts as a workplace, the conciliation that may not end in money, the inquiry’s civil-court powers, and why Section 28 means the committee and the police are not an either–or.
ReadWhat your building legally IS decides the case, not what you are complaining about. Most Delhi RWAs sit under the Societies Registration Act, 1860 — a registration statute with no power to levy maintenance, fine a member or recover anything, so the charge rests on the bye-laws and is enforced only by suit. A co-operative society goes to the Registrar under Section 70, where an election challenge dies in thirty days. And a building under the Delhi Apartment Ownership Act, 1986 has a Deed of Apartment, parking inside the statutory definition of common areas, dues as a charge on the flat, and model bye-laws that make elections and audit compulsory.
ReadA challan is two different things wearing one name. Some can be paid and closed; the rest cannot be paid at all, because the compounding list takes in Section 184 only for handheld phone use and leaves Section 185 out altogether. The notice is not a bill either – it is issued under the section headed “Restriction on conviction”. Plus what paying on the Virtual Court actually means, why the “three challans” suspension rule does not exist, and what to do when challans keep arriving for a car you sold years ago. No penalty figures, and the page says why.
Read“Court” on a challan does not mean a trial. It means a Magistrate now holds the file, and that the next click is a plea rather than a payment. How to find the case – and why a driving licence number will never find it. Why the summons only appears after you act. What contesting actually does, and the published figure showing how few people do it. The Act’s own short route, why traffic offences are expressly NOT petty offences under the new code, when you must attend in person, what the court can do to your licence, and what five official sources say – and do not say – about ignoring it.
ReadA licence goes out of two different doors – a government office under Section 19 and Rule 21, or a courtroom on conviction – and the grounds, the appeal and the way back differ for each. The appeal is thirty days from RECEIPT, and we found no provision for condoning delay. A High Court has quashed a suspension that named no ground and recorded no satisfaction. The licence does not simply revive when the period ends: the Act wants a refresher course, or a fresh test and a medical certificate. And almost nobody knows you can apply to have a disqualification removed after six months. Plus why there is no three-challan rule and no points system in force.
ReadEverybody argues “it was not me”. The strongest ground is usually not your evidence at all – it is whether the challan complies with the rule the government wrote for issuing it. Rule 167A requires the camera to carry a yearly approval certificate, requires the challan to be accompanied by FIVE named things including a photograph showing the offence AND the plate, and requires the notice to be sent within fifteen days. And Rule 167A(10) gives an owner who was not driving an express right to say so – a right the portal does not implement. Plus Delhi’s own complaint form, the cloned-plate gap nobody fills, and why Section 209 is a far weaker shield than people think.
ReadWe read the registration chapter of the Act section by section, and the answer is not the one anybody wants: there is no provision by which a seller can take himself off the register without a transfer being completed. Transfer needs the buyer. Cancellation is about the vehicle – destroyed, beyond repair, removed out of INDIA, not out of the State. And the challans are the smallest part of it: the Supreme Court has held that a registered owner who purported to sell but still appears in the records is not absolved of liability for compensation. Form 29 is necessary and has not been shown to be sufficient. One rule prevents all of it.
ReadThe counter says clear the challans first, and nobody says under what. We went looking. The Act has no such provision at all – not in section 48, not in section 50, not in fitness or permits. The power is in a rule, and the rule is narrower than the practice: ninety days, the offender’s own licence or the vehicle named in the challan, and permit, fitness and tax expressly left out. A 2018 ministry circular goes further and cites no authority for doing so. Then on 28 September 2026 the Supreme Court directed much of it anyway. Plus the Kerala judgment holding that a transfer after a death is not a transaction at all.
ReadThe section is headed “offences by juveniles” and the person it makes guilty is an adult: the guardian of the child or the owner of the vehicle, and those can be two different people. ₹25,000 and up to three years, the registration cancelled for twelve months, and no licence for the child until twenty-five. The part nobody prints: Section 199A is not in the compounding list, so it cannot be paid at a counter and must go to court. Plus the complete exemption in sub-section (3), the written representation the Act requires before a registration is cancelled, and why the Pune case was not this section at all.
ReadTwo things are said everywhere about this and both are wrong. It cannot be paid online – Section 185 is absent from the compounding list, so a court challan is issued and a magistrate decides, which the Delhi Traffic Police has itself confirmed. And six months in prison is the maximum, not the outcome: the reported figures show custody in under a tenth of cases, for days. The consequence that is real, and that nobody prints, is the licence – on conviction, disqualification of at least six months, and the provision carries no “special reasons” escape at all.
ReadSince the transport strike of January 2024 every page on this subject has been built on a provision that has never been brought into force. The government’s own release excluded Section 106(2) when the new criminal laws commenced, and the Delhi High Court confirmed in July 2026 that it was still unnotified. The charge in practice carries five years and is classified as bailable. Plus the twenty-four hour reporting window almost nobody knows about, and the ₹2 lakh claim the Supreme Court found only 205 families in the whole country made in a year.
ReadAcross nine pages on challans and road cases we kept saying this is a court application and not something to settle at a police station, and kept not explaining how. This is that page. The old provision had no deadline at all – its replacement gives the court fourteen days to record and photograph the vehicle and thirty days to order its release, and a High Court enforced that in August 2026. Plus why the registration certificate is not the whole answer, how much the bond can lawfully be, and the special statutes where the Magistrate has no power at all.
ReadOur first state page, and the state-specific part is narrower and stranger than people expect. Rajasthan’s notification binds officers by rank and by area: a Head Constable may compound inside the Jaipur and Jodhpur Commissionerates, an Assistant Sub-Inspector everywhere else. The state’s own motor vehicles rules contain no compounding provision at all. Plus the thirty-day appeal to the RTO, a quarter of every compounding fee going to a non-lapsable road safety fund, who really owns the highway cameras, and why a seized vehicle here is so often a mining matter.
ReadSearch “Punjab e-challan” and almost everything you get belongs to Pakistan — the Punjab Safe Cities Authority in Lahore, a row of .pk sites, and commercial services. Not one Indian government result. The reason is that Punjab publishes almost nothing: its Transport Department’s whole notifications page holds nine items, four of them single scanned pages 11, 12, 16 and 17 of one user-charges file, and no section 200 schedule at all — while its own menu sends you to the centre. One date does exist: 19 December 2019, so here alone you can ask for the notification by name. Plus three two-second tells, the Gurmukhi-versus-Shahmukhi check, and why Chandigarh — whose Administrator is Punjab’s Governor — wrote the best schedule in India.
ReadOne question put to thirty-four Indian states and union territories: have you published what a challan costs, and who may take it? Five published a schedule after the 2019 amendment, seven are still running documents older than it — the oldest from 2008 — and around twenty publish no amount at all. In the whole country only two schedules tell you that a helmet offence costs three months of your licence. The full comparison table with every jurisdiction linked, the four jobs a schedule actually does, the patterns we did not expect — and every correction we have had to publish about our own pages, in one place.
ReadThe only jurisdiction in this series that was created while the amended Act was already running. Two Union territories merged on 26 January 2020, but section 17 of the Merger Act kept both rulebooks alive in their own halves — so the real question is whether Daman runs on one schedule and Silvassa on another. Neither exists. The registration mark was unified in four days; the municipal regime in eight months; the compounding schedule not in six years. The Transport Department publishes four documents, the whole legal library two entries, the police force’s rules shelf one reservation roster — and the traffic police page never once uses the word challan.
ReadThe smallest jurisdiction in this series, and the first where we had to ask whether our own question is fair. No two inhabited islands are joined by a road. The police run seven coastal security stations and publish no traffic page. The Department of Road Transport names no Act and no Rules at all — the only one of thirty-three — and a single Motor Vehicle Inspector is Licensing Authority for the whole territory. No section 200 notification could be found. We argue it both ways and then say where we come down: the principle holds, the scale does not — and a one-page notification would settle it.
ReadThe A&N Police publish a ninety-seven row spot fines list — the largest and most current schedule in this series. It marks which offences go to court instead of a counter, notes where the licence is to be seized, and prices the one compoundable limb of section 184 at ₹3,000 while sending the other five to court in the same row. Its notification is dated 22 days after the 2019 amendment — faster than Assam, which we had called the fastest. And row 17 of it caught three wrong figures in our own tables, which this page sets out in full.
ReadOn 25 August 2026 Ladakh notified S.O. 250, directing twenty per cent of everything collected by compounding traffic violations into a road safety fund — non-lapsable, audited by the CAG, and spent on signage, black spots, driving test tracks and ambulances. Puducherry promised exactly this in 2015 and never did it. The same notification calls a compounding fee one taken by “the officers authorised under Section 200” — so that authorisation exists, and we still could not find it. A territory that has published where a fifth of your money goes, and not what the money is.
ReadIn 2023 this territory recorded 13,72,501 traffic challans — 4,28,609 compounded and 9,43,892 sent to court. That is sixty-nine per cent going to a magistrate, which is the opposite of what section 200 exists to achieve, and no other jurisdiction in this series publishes the split at all. We could find no compounding notification here. The Act itself only arrived on 31 October 2019 — sixty days after the amendment — so this is the one place in India that has never known the pre-2019 Act. And in Srinagar 835 cameras now issue challans with no published procedure, for the one offence that costs you your licence.
ReadSikkim publishes the region’s fullest compounding schedule — forty-four priced rows in four columns, graded by repeat offence and by vehicle class — made by Notification No. 121/MV/T dated 29 July 2010. Sixteen years on it still prices a general contravention at ₹100, has no helmet row at all because the section did not exist, and carries two figures now below the statutory minimum. Meanwhile the same department runs AI cameras with a ten-day cure window and a written promise to pay you double if the machine is wrong — the most citizen-protective provision we have found anywhere. The newest enforcement in India, pointed at the oldest price list.
ReadArunachal publishes no compounding schedule, and the only state statute its district transport office names is a taxation Act. But one district did something no government in this series has done: it published what it collected. Lohit reported 3,782 challans and ₹42,18,800 in 2025 — which divides into about ₹1,115 per challan, the first real figure we have had for what is actually being charged on a road rather than what a document says it should be. And behind it sits Article 371H, under which this State’s Governor alone carries a personal responsibility for law and order — a question we raise and deliberately leave open.
ReadTripura publishes twenty-six no-parking zones and twelve parking zones in Agartala, each with a notification number and date; a tax penalty scale; and eleven amendments to its Motor Vehicles Rules, the latest dated five days before the central compoundable list changed. It publishes no compounding amount at all — and its Notices link points at nothing while its Acts link points at a file that will not open. Then its accident figures changed our mind: deaths fell forty per cent in two years while crashes fell nine. That is survival, not prevention — and it forced us to say plainly what a published schedule is actually for.
ReadPuducherry left us asking who the “State Government” is in a Union territory. Chandigarh answers it in practice: its notification of 6 December 2019 says the section 200(1) power is exercised by the Administrator — who since 1984 is, ex officio, the Governor of Punjab. What follows is the best compounding notification we have read: 30 rows, five columns, a column naming the only three authorities who may compound, the three-month licence disqualification written in (the first schedule in the series to do it), section 206(4) on the speeding rows, and section 184 limited in brackets to handheld devices. One problem: the police website misquotes it in four places, including a date fourteen months in the future.
ReadSection 200 gives the compounding power to “the State Government”. Puducherry is a Union territory — and the General Clauses Act says that in a Union territory those words mean the Central Government, while a Council of Ministers advises an Administrator whose disagreements go to the President. We set the provisions out and leave the question open. Underneath: the territory’s rules are not made under section 200 (second jurisdiction proved on the instrument’s face), two different monthly rates sit under one ₹100 cap, the police table of 95 offences carries pre-2019 figures — and the territory’s own 2015 policy recorded a death rate double the national average and promised to notify penalties and fund road safety from compounding.
ReadA compounding arrangement has two halves — what an offence costs, and who may settle it for which offences. Most states publish one. Mizoram publishes both, and they do not match. Its penalties page, updated February 2025, is the only state document in this series that names section 177A, and the only government page that prints the three-month licence disqualification under 194C. Its compounding notification is from 1 August 2018 — still listing section 191, which 2019 removed, and listing nothing 2019 inserted. So a helmet is priced at ₹1,000 on one government page and absent from the other. Plus the only rank floor in India with a uniform condition on it.
ReadTwenty-one pages read a state’s schedule. Nagaland does not publish one — but it published something no other state government did: a notice telling the public that section 200 itself had been replaced. Serial 26 of the Schedule to the Jan Vishwas Act, 2023, commenced by S.O. 227(E) on 13 January 2025, substituted section 200(1) and added 177A, 192B(3) and 201 to the compoundable list — so every schedule in this series is now under-inclusive, and the community service power may have been deleted before any state used it. Following 177A back led somewhere stranger: the regulations it punishes were superseded in 2017, and state departments are still publishing the 1989 version.
ReadTwenty pages built around a table. Meghalaya’s section 200 notification has no table at all — instead of figures it sets a rule: amounts “not lesser than fifty percent of the maximum fine prescribed”. So a 2011 document still works, while Telangana’s fixed schedule from fifteen weeks earlier went stale. But the formula only saved the money, not the scope — its list of nine sections is from 2011, and section 194D for helmets did not exist then. Chasing that took us to something twenty-one pages had never done: reading section 200 itself — which settles that the compoundable list is Parliament’s and not the states’, confirms why drink driving can never be compounded, and reveals a community service power no state has used.
ReadThree pages in this series quoted a state rule capping a composition amount at ₹100 and we treated it as a stale state figure. We were wrong, and Goa proves it. Its rule 54 names its own parent provision — section 50(3), which allows “not exceeding one hundred rupees” in lieu of action under section 177. The ceiling is Parliament’s, not the state’s. In 1988 section 177 also carried ₹100 — the two matched exactly. In 2019 Parliament raised section 177 to ₹500 and ₹1,500 and left that ceiling alone: a 31-year symmetry became a 15:1 gap by nobody doing anything. Also here: the four paperwork delays this reaches, and why the real exposure on a late transfer is never the fee.
ReadOn Shimla’s sealed and restricted roads the law that stops you is not the Motor Vehicles Act — it is a Himachal statute of its own, the Shimla Road Users and Pedestrians (Public Safety and Convenience) Act, 2007. And it contains what no section 200 schedule in India contains: a fifty per cent on-the-spot settlement written into the Act itself, twice. Also here: the RC and the licence impounded if you do not pay; a plea of guilty by money order; time limits that run against the prosecution rather than against you; two appeals with named officers and real deadlines — the first appellate route in nineteen states that is in a statute; and section 22, confirming the Motor Vehicles Act keeps running alongside all of it.
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