Nine states in, the range has turned out to be enormous, and Gujarat sits at the bottom of it. Triple riding here was set at a hundred rupees. The same offence in West Bengal is a thousand rupees and three months without a licence. Then, in December 2019, this state did something no other state in the series has done: it announced that one of the requirements would not apply at all in towns. We print what was announced, and we are careful about it, because the law in the Act did not move.
After nine states the useful thing this series can offer is no longer a figure; it is a range. One section of one central Act, and the amount a state will take to settle it runs from a hundred rupees to a thousand rupees with three months of your licence attached. Gujarat is the hundred-rupee end.
That matters practically rather than academically. If you drive across state lines, you are not crossing between slightly different prices. You are crossing between regimes that disagree about what the offence is worth by a factor of ten, and in one case about whether the requirement applies to you at all.
The amended Act commenced nationally on 1 September 2019. Nine days later, on 10 September 2019, Chief Minister Vijay Rupani announced that Gujarat would apply lower amounts. The repository that collects post-2019 compounding notifications records Gujarat against 12 September 2019.
Two dates, two days apart, and they are consistent with each other rather than in conflict: an announcement on the tenth, an instrument on the twelfth. We give both because a challan issued in that forty-eight hours is the only situation where the difference would matter, and because a page that quotes one date without the other invites the question.
| Offence | Central figure | Gujarat, from September 2019 |
|---|---|---|
| No helmet | ₹1,000 | ₹500 |
| No seat belt | ₹1,000 | ₹500 |
| Dangerous driving — three-wheeler | ₹5,000 | ₹1,500 |
| Dangerous driving — light motor vehicle | ₹5,000 | ₹3,000 |
| Dangerous driving — others | ₹5,000 | ₹5,000 — unchanged |
| No licence — two-wheeler | ₹5,000 | ₹2,000 |
| No licence — other vehicles | ₹5,000 | ₹3,000 |
| Triple riding | ₹1,000 | ₹100 |
| Pollution — small vehicle | ₹10,000 | ₹1,000 |
| Pollution — large vehicle | ₹10,000 | ₹3,000 |
Note the one row that did not move. Dangerous driving in a vehicle other than a three-wheeler or a light motor vehicle stayed at five thousand. A state that was cutting almost everything chose not to cut that, which tells you the exercise was selective rather than across the board.
Because that is what they are. These came from reporting of the announcement, not from a schedule we have read. Gujarat’s compounding notification sits in the repository as a scanned image we cannot extract text from, and the state transport site did not yield a readable copy.
We have printed them anyway, labelled, because the gap between them and other states is so wide that it is informative even approximately, and because leaving a reader with nothing is not neutral. What we will not do is dress them up as a schedule. If you are about to rely on a specific rupee figure here, get the notification.
| Section | Gujarat | West Bengal | Jharkhand |
|---|---|---|---|
| 194D — no helmet | ₹500 | ₹1,000 + three-month disqualification | ₹1,000 |
| 194B — no seat belt | ₹500 | ₹1,000 | ₹1,000 |
| 194C — triple riding | ₹100 | ₹1,000 + three-month disqualification | ₹1,000 |
| 181 — no licence | ₹2,000 / ₹3,000 | ₹5,000 | ₹5,000 |
| 190(2) — pollution and safety standards | ₹1,000 / ₹3,000 | ₹10,000 + three-month disqualification | ₹1,000 / ₹2,000 |
Two rows do it. Triple riding under section 194C is a hundred rupees here and a thousand in West Bengal, where it also costs the rider three months of a licence. Breach of the pollution and safety standards under section 190(2) is a thousand rupees here for a small vehicle and ten thousand in Bengal, again with a three-month disqualification.
We flagged the Bengal figure for section 190 as an outlier when we wrote that page, comparing it with Jharkhand’s thousand. Gujarat confirms it from the other direction. Ten times the money, plus a licence consequence in one state and none in the other, for the same words in the same statute.
Yes, and the reason is the distinction our Karnataka page is built around, because Karnataka is where it was argued in public in the same weeks.
A state cannot alter the fine a court imposes on conviction. Those figures are in a central Act and a state law contradicting one would need the President’s assent. What a state does control, expressly, under section 200, is the compounding amount — what it will accept to close the offence without a trial. Every figure in the tables above is a compounding amount. Nothing in the Act was touched.
The Act. That is the sentence to carry away from this page, and it applies to the helmet announcement as much as to the figures.
Section 194D is still in the Motor Vehicles Act. Section 129, which requires protective headgear, is still in the Motor Vehicles Act. Section 190 still carries what it carries. What Gujarat changed is the amount at which it will settle, and — on the reported version of December 2019 — whether it would enforce one requirement in towns. Neither of those is an amendment, and a reader who treats them as one is building on sand.
On 4 December 2019, the State Transport Minister, R C Faldu, announced that helmets would be optional. His words as reported:
“However, helmets will be compulsory on state highways, nationals highways and roads falling under panchayat limits.”
R C Faldu, State Transport Minister, 4 December 2019 (as reported)Read it carefully, because the sentence defines the exemption by naming what it excludes. If helmets remain compulsory on highways and panchayat roads, the exemption was for the roads that are neither — urban and municipal streets.
State highways. National highways. Roads within panchayat limits. Three categories, and between them they cover most of the distance anybody actually rides outside a city.
They are also categories that are not painted on the road surface. A rider leaving Ahmedabad does not pass a sign announcing that section 194D has resumed. That by itself makes the exemption a thin thing to organise your riding around, quite apart from everything below.
We could not find the notification giving effect to the announcement, and we could not establish the provision it was made under.
We could not establish whether it is still in force. The announcement is from December 2019 and this page is written in October 2026.
And the Act did not change. Section 129 requires protective headgear; section 194D provides the penalty. An announcement by a minister, reported in a newspaper, is not the same kind of thing as either.
So the honest position is narrow: an announcement was made, on a date we can give, by a minister we can name, in terms we have quoted. Everything beyond that — whether it was notified, under what power, and whether it survives — is something we do not know.
We are reporting what a state government announced, because a reader is entitled to know what was said about the law that applies to them. We are not offering it as advice, and we would rather lose the page than have it read that way.
A compounding schedule can be amended by a notification on a Tuesday. The relationship between a head and a road surface cannot. Whatever a given street requires this month, the helmet is the cheapest insurance available to anybody on two wheels, and the only part of this page that will still be true in ten years.
Then there is a real question to put, and it is worth putting in writing rather than at the roadside. Under which provision was the challan issued, and is the exemption announced in December 2019 in force for that area?
That is a specific question with a documented basis, and it costs nothing to ask. If it is answered with a notification, you have your answer either way. A written reply is the ordinary vehicle for it, and it is the document this page is built around.
Because of where you are in the sequence. At the challan stage there is usually no order yet — nobody has decided anything against you, so there is nothing for an appellate authority to review. What exists is a demand you dispute.
The response to a disputed demand is a written reply that puts the point on the record while the matter is still soft: the section quoted, the figure demanded, the state notification you say applies, and where you were. An appeal comes later and only if something is actually decided. Filing the wrong one at the wrong time wastes the fee and, worse, the time.
“(1) An appeal under Chapter V of the Act shall be preferred in duplicate in the form of a memorandum, setting forth concisely the grounds of objection to the order against which the appeal is preferred, and shall be accompanied by a certified copy of that order and the fee prescribed under rule 71.”
“(2) Any person preferring an appeal shall be entitled to obtain a copy of any document filed with the Transport Authority and connected with the order against which he is preferring the appeal, on payment of the fee prescribed under rule 71.”
“(3) The appellate authority may give any person interested in the appeal, a copy of any document connected with the appeal, on payment of the fee prescribed under rule 71.”
Across nine state pages this is the first time we have been able to tell a reader how an appeal is actually filed rather than merely which rule number governs it. Haryana, Jharkhand and Bihar defeated us completely on the appeal question. West Bengal gave us rule numbers with no text. Gujarat gives us four concrete things.
Sub-rule (2) is the one people overlook and it is the most useful of the three. An appellant is entitled to a copy of any document filed with the Transport Authority connected with the order being appealed. That is a right to see the file you are arguing against, and it is worth exercising before the grounds are drafted rather than after.
Rule 107 points three times to the fee prescribed under rule 71, and we could not read rule 71. So we cannot tell you what filing an appeal costs, or what a copy of a document from the file costs.
Nor does rule 107 state a limitation period. That is the more important of the two gaps, because a fee you discover late is an inconvenience and a period you discover late is the end of the matter. Both are questions for the Transport Authority or an advocate practising there, and both should be asked on day one.
The rules name appellate authorities in four places and set out the manner of appeal in another four: rule 5 and rule 20 for driving licences, rule 25 and rule 37 for conductor licences, rule 41 and rule 58 for registration, and rule 107 with rule 108 for the transport permit chapter.
Only rule 107 came through readable. The others we can name and not quote, which at least tells you which number to ask about depending on what kind of order has arrived — and that is four more than we could offer on most of these pages.
The Gujarat rules contain rule 239, headed powers of officers of the Motor Vehicles Department, with rule 240 on the performance of their functions and rule 241 on their uniform. We could not read any of the three; the copy we had truncated at each heading.
That is frustrating because rule 239 is precisely where a Haryana-style schedule would sit if Gujarat has one. Haryana’s equivalent names seventeen categories of officer and the sections each may act under, which is the single most useful thing on that page. Whether Gujarat prints anything comparable is the question on this page we would most like answered, and we cannot answer it.
Every state page opens with the same mechanical check: read the recital at the head of the state’s motor vehicle rules and see whether section 200, the compounding provision, appears in it. Here we could not, for the third time: the copy begins directly at Chapter I with no preamble at all.
We note it rather than quietly dropping Gujarat from the tally, because a test that could not be run is a different thing from a test that came back negative, and blurring the two would make the pattern look stronger than the evidence does.
Tested, section 200 absent — six. Rajasthan, Uttar Pradesh, Haryana, Bihar and therefore Jharkhand which runs on Bihar’s rules, and Maharashtra. Six recitals, visibly drafted independently of one another, and not one of them containing the compounding provision.
Could not be tested — three. West Bengal, Karnataka and now Gujarat, in each case because the copy available carried no preamble. The pattern holds everywhere we could check it; we are simply not going to claim nine out of nine when we have six.
We looked, because two states have surprised us. West Bengal has a general rule 349 headed Compounding of Offences; Karnataka has three narrow composition rules for registration and transfer lapses, capped at a hundred rupees. Gujarat has neither that we could find.
So Gujarat is the ordinary case: compounding lives in a notification under section 200, which is a separate document that can be issued, amended and replaced without touching the rules at all. Which is exactly why the 2019 cut was possible, and exactly why nobody can tell you today what the current figures are without reading the current notification.
One recent addition is worth knowing about. The Gujarat Motor Vehicles (Amendment) Rules 2023, notification G/PT/2022/5/MVD/102021/2608/KH dated 16 February 2023, made under section 212(1) and section 96(2)(xxviii), inserted rule 98A on the licensing of aggregators.
It applies the national Motor Vehicle Aggregator Guidelines of 2020, makes the principal place of business the location of the competent authority, and requires an applicant aggregator to give an undertaking about grievances. It regulates the platform rather than the driver, so it does not change what you can be stopped for.
The operative number in rule 98A is thirty days. An aggregator must undertake to dispose of a passenger grievance within thirty days of receiving it, and the rule states that where a grievance is not redressed within that period, the failure shall be considered as a cause of action for the suspension of the licence.
Two readings follow. For a passenger whose complaint has gone nowhere, thirty days is the date to write down and the licensing authority is the place to escalate to. For a driver, the point is that your platform carries obligations in a document you have probably never been shown, and asking for a copy of them is reasonable.
Go back to the table for a moment. Every row was cut except one: dangerous driving in a vehicle that is neither a three-wheeler nor a light motor vehicle stayed at five thousand rupees.
That single exception does more work than it looks. It shows the exercise was not a blanket discount applied to a list; somebody went through the offences and decided which ones to leave alone. And the one left alone is the one most likely to involve a bus or a lorry driven dangerously, which is where the consequences fall on other people rather than on the rider.
Whether that was the reasoning we cannot say. But it is worth noticing that a state willing to price triple riding at a hundred rupees was not willing to move dangerous driving by a heavy vehicle at all, because it suggests the cut had a logic rather than being a round of across-the-board relief.
Set the dates out and a shape appears. The amended Act commenced on 1 September 2019. Gujarat announced reduced amounts on the tenth, with the instrument recorded on the twelfth. On 4 December, the helmet announcement followed.
So within fourteen weeks this state moved twice, and the second move was of a different kind entirely. Reducing a compounding amount is something section 200 plainly permits. Announcing that a requirement will not be enforced in part of the state is not the same exercise, and the difference between the two is why this page treats them so differently — the first we report as a policy choice the state was entitled to make, the second as an announcement whose legal basis we could not find.
Mostly one thing, and it is the thing nine state pages have been building towards: there is no such thing as an Indian traffic fine. There is a central Act with ceilings, and then thirty-six separate decisions about what each offence is worth, taken at different times by different governments under different pressures.
Gujarat is the clearest proof because it sits at one end. When a rider who has only ever ridden here is stopped in Kolkata, the difference is not that the officer is stricter. It is that the same section carries ten times the money and a three-month licence consequence that does not exist at home. Nobody tells you that at a state border, and no national rate list could, because the thing it would have to describe does not exist.
One national direction now sits over every figure on this page, and it is recent enough that most people have not met it yet. Justice J.B. Pardiwala and Justice K.V. Viswanathan, on 28 September 2026, in S. Rajaseekaran v. Union of India (2026 LiveLaw (SC) 1007), went at the recovery side rather than the issuing side. The arithmetic before the Bench was that roughly ₹49,194.05 crore remained unrecovered on e-challans across the country, against ₹26,175.05 crore that had come in.
“We also direct that let there be random checking of the vehicles and if it is found that the e-challan issued has not been abided or honored, necessary steps shall be taken to impound the vehicle itself.”
S. Rajaseekaran v. Union of India, 2026 LiveLaw (SC) 1007, 28 September 2026With it: online services frozen while amounts are outstanding, registration renewal and duplicate registration barred, fitness certificates refused until pending fines are cleared, blacklisting on the Parivahan portal with no pollution certificate issued, transfer of ownership blocked, and the licence suspended from renewal on multiple violations.
Those directions interact with low compounding amounts in a way that is particular to this state, and it is worth spelling out because it is counter-intuitive.
A hundred-rupee challan left unpaid can now block the transfer of a vehicle worth several lakhs. The registry does not weigh the size of the debt against the size of the consequence; an outstanding amount is an outstanding amount. So in the state with the lowest figures in this series, the gap between what a challan costs and what ignoring it costs is the widest it gets.
The practical instruction is unusually simple. Check the portal against your registration number, clear whatever is there — it will not be much — and keep the receipts.
Section 194 is the one question we keep asking and keep getting a different answer to, and Gujarat’s answer is simply missing from what we could read. The four we do have run like this: a straight price per excess tonne in Jharkhand; the same price in West Bengal but with the permit going on the second occasion and the registration behind it on the third; a price in Bihar that the state pointedly refused to discount when it halved everything else; and in Maharashtra, no price at all, because it sits on the list of offences that cannot be compounded.
Four states, four designs, nothing in the central Act requiring any of them. Adding a guess about a fifth would tell you less than the blank does.
One question follows naturally from a hundred-rupee figure: is there anything stopping a state going lower still, or setting nothing at all? The answer is built into the structure rather than into any single number.
Compounding is permissive. Section 200 lets a state say which offences may be settled and at what sum; it does not oblige a state to offer the facility for anything. Maharashtra’s published list of offences that cannot be compounded is the proof of that — a state exercising the same power by declining to use it. So in principle a state could go as low as it liked, or offer nothing.
What it cannot do is reach past the compounding amount into the trial. Where no settlement happens, the matter goes to a magistrate and the Act’s own figures apply, untouched by whatever the state notified. That is the floor and the ceiling of the discretion: complete freedom over the settlement, none at all over the sentence.
Not compoundable, in Gujarat or anywhere in India. Section 185 sits outside the compounding scheme entirely, so no state notification can set an amount for it however low that state’s other figures are. A magistrate decides and a conviction carries a disqualification. Our page on drink driving cases sets out what follows.
Because we have reported figures and not an instrument. The notification sits in the repository as a scan; the transport site gave us nothing readable. The ten rows above came from reporting of the announcement, and we have labelled them that way throughout rather than formatting them into something that looks official.
The difference matters most in this state, because the gap between the central figures and the Gujarat ones is so large that getting it wrong in either direction is expensive.
They disagree more here than elsewhere, and for a traceable reason. Between the central figures of 1 September 2019, the reduced Gujarat figures of that month, and the helmet announcement in December, a table could be reproducing any of three positions — and a fourth if anything has changed since.
None of the tables we looked at names a notification or carries a date, so there is no way to tell which of the three it is showing. That is not a small defect in Gujarat; it is the difference between a hundred rupees and a thousand.
A compounding notification is state-wide, so the amounts do not change between cities. What may change by area, on the reported version of the December 2019 announcement, is the helmet position — because that announcement drew its line between urban roads on one side and highways and panchayat roads on the other.
That is a geographic distinction of a kind we have otherwise met only in Rajasthan, where the rank of the officer who may compound changes inside the Jaipur and Jodhpur Commissionerates. Two states, two completely different things made to depend on where you are standing.
On the reported version, the requirement resumes the moment you are on a state highway, a national highway or a road within panchayat limits. Nothing announces that transition to a rider.
We are not going to pretend that is a manageable rule to ride by, and we are not going to pretend the safer course is unclear. It is the same course it was before December 2019.
A separate proceeding under criminal procedure, decided by a magistrate rather than by any transport authority, and nothing on this page reaches it. Our page on vehicle release and superdari sets out the application and the time limits.
Establish the route first, because there are three and they do not share a remedy: a court disqualifying on conviction, a licensing authority suspending as an administrative act, or suspension from renewal under the September 2026 directions where violations have accumulated. Gujarat names an appellate authority for driving licence matters at rule 5, with the manner of appeal at rule 20, though neither text came through. Our page on licence suspension covers the court and administrative routes.
Start with the national grounds, because they are the same here as anywhere and they are often the strongest. An electronic notice has to say certain things; it has to reach you inside a set period; and whatever equipment generated it has to be covered by a certificate the authority is obliged to hold. Those three are worked through on our page on disputing a challan.
Gujarat adds the sharpest state-specific ground in this series, and it follows from everything above: whether the amount demanded is the state figure or the central one. Where those differ by a factor of ten, that is not a technicality. An application to the authority is the alternative document where a reply is not the right shape.
Compoundable matters get disposed of there in bulk across the country. A Lok Adalat records a settlement and cannot cut a figure of its own; where a reduction exists it comes from a state notification, as it did in Bihar in 2026. We found no settlement scheme for Gujarat, which is unsurprising when the standing figures are already the lowest here. Our page on Lok Adalats sets out the distinction and what an award there actually is.
The rules came from a bare-act source, read twice: once to establish what was there and whether anything preceded Chapter I, and once to ask for rules 239, 240 and 107 word for word. Only rule 107 came through, which is why it is quoted in full and the others are named. The 2023 amendment came from the same source with its notification number and date.
The September 2019 figures came from reporting of the Chief Minister’s announcement and are labelled as reported throughout. The 12 September date comes from the repository that collects post-2019 compounding notifications, which is a second and independent source for the same event. The helmet announcement came from a news report of 4 December 2019 carrying the minister’s own words, and we have flagged at length what we could not establish about it. The Supreme Court order was read from a law reporting service with the citation given.
The challan with its section and the amount exactly as printed — in this state the amount is itself evidence. The registration number character for character. Where you were, on a helmet matter. Proof of payment for anything paid. The certified copy of any order, since rule 107 requires it and obtaining one takes time. Copies of anything you obtain from the Transport Authority file under rule 107(2). And the case number if a court has the matter.
Whatever is identical across the country has been left off: the statutory definitions, the conduct of a trial once a magistrate has the file, the electronic enforcement rules, the licensing chapter and the law of seizure and release. Each has its own page here, linked above where it becomes relevant. What remains is what belongs to Gujarat — the deepest cut in the series, an announcement nobody else made, and one appeal rule we could actually read.
When an order rather than a challan has arrived and rule 107 is in play, because the form, the attachments and an unstated limitation period all have to be got right at once. When the matter has reached a court. When a commercial operation is exposed rather than one vehicle. And when a figure is being demanded that nobody will trace to a notification — which, given the size of the gap here, is the most likely dispute on this page.
Two things, kept separate. The directory introduces you to advocates at no cost, hides your number until one accepts, and earns us nothing from either side. And we draft. The document this page is built around is the written reply — the paper that puts a disputed figure, or a helmet challan from a city street, on the record while the matter is still at the challan stage. Alongside it: an RTI request for the notification currently in force, a written application to the authority, and an appeal once an order exists to appeal against.
Court work is for your advocate, whose fee is engaged and paid by you directly; we do not quote, collect or share it.
Gujarat’s compounding notification of September 2019 — its number and its schedule. The figures on this page are reported figures, not a document we have read.
Whether those figures are still current, or have been revised since 2019.
The notification behind the helmet announcement of 4 December 2019, the provision it was made under, and whether it remains in force. This is the largest gap on the page.
The enabling clause of the Gujarat Motor Vehicles Rules 1989, which is why the section 200 test could not be run here.
The text of rule 239, rule 240 and rule 241 — and therefore who may compound a challan in Gujarat and at what rank.
The fee prescribed under rule 71, and the limitation period for an appeal under rule 107.
Gujarat’s position on overloading under section 194.
Any Gujarat High Court decision dealing directly with traffic challan compounding, and current state-level enforcement figures.
Questions are free, and so is the introduction to an advocate. Every document we write shows its price on its own page before you order it, and no part of it is a share of anybody’s professional fee. On a hundred-rupee challan there is nothing here worth buying, and we would rather say that than find something.
Court work is for your advocate, whose fee is engaged and paid by you directly; we do not quote, collect or share it.
Two 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.
ReadSeventeen states chose their own numbers. Assam did not choose. It issued notification TMV.250/2019/67 twenty-five days after the 2019 amendment — the fastest in India — and across eighty-eight rows gave no discount at all: every figure is the Act’s own. It is also the only state in eighteen that publishes four separate schedules, one per class of officer. The price never changes between them; the permission does. Police cannot compound overloading in Assam, and the two ₹1,00,000 dealer rows are reserved to senior transport officers. On a second speeding offence the schedule offers no amount at all — it offers impounding of the licence under section 206(4). Then in June 2024 the cabinet replaced the two-wheeler document fine with a warning, which is generous and which settles nothing.
ReadThe 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.
ReadSearch enrolled advocates by practice area, court, city, experience and language. Alphabetical, no rankings. Free to search and free to send a request.
Open the directoryIt reaches the advocates on the directory together and whoever is free takes it up. Asking is free, your number stays hidden until one of them accepts, and nothing is payable in advance for work we do ourselves.
Two doors, both free. Clients search a factual directory of enrolled advocates. Advocates apply to be listed on it — no fee, no commission, nothing paid in either direction.
Search Bar Council enrolled advocates by what your matter is about, by court, or by city. Searching and sending a request are both free.
Enrolled advocates anywhere in India can apply to be listed. Your entry is published only after we verify your enrolment number with your State Bar Council.
Would rather not pick anybody? Tell us the matter instead — one form goes to every advocate at once, and the first to take it up calls you.
This directory carries no ratings, no reviews, no rankings and no fees — only the factual particulars the Bar Council of India permits, published at each advocate's own request. Browse the network · Terms for Advocates