For decades, autorickshaw stands across Tamil Nadu echoed with male voices and laughter. Unwritten rules about who could wait, who could call out fares, and who belonged, were rooted in street corner landmarks. Today, that code is being rewritten. A quiet sisterhood has been emerging in the transportation sector — quick commerce delivery riders, ride-hailing app riders (two-wheeler, auto and car), mini-trucks, and lorries. What was once a lonely act of defiance is fast becoming a ‘for women, by women’ initiative, steadily trying to transform the arena into a gender-neutral space.
In Chennai, that transformation has begun already. Five hundred women auto drivers are now part of a growing collective, Veera Pengal Munnetra Sangam (VPMS) that functions as both union and safety net. “We don’t have an auto stand for ladies. It’s only for gents,” says Mohana Sundari, president of VPMS. “Two or three times when women tried to station there, the gents chased us away, saying, ‘This is our stand, you shouldn’t be here.’ To avoid starting a conflict with them, we started riding through the (ride-hailing) apps.”
But survival required more than simply switching platforms; it demanded a collective voice strong enough to navigate policy corridors. This urgency led to the birth of the Sangam. “The most availed government scheme by us is the subsidy of `1 lakh provided to each woman auto driver who has a nalavariyam (welfare board) card,” says Mohana. To foster a more accessible financial security among the riders, VPMS started its own association-driven scheme where each member contributes `222 a month. From that pool, contributors can avail accident insurance, emergency relief, and a rotating loan system that shields women from predatory debt.
“If a driver needs `10,000 for school fees and borrows it outside, she will keep paying interest but never pay off the principal. It will keep growing, and she will drown in debt,” she explains. “But in our association, if she pays regularly, she becomes eligible for more next time.”
The collective also steps in with household provisions when a vehicle breaks down, and income comes to a halt, extends `10,000 in times of bereavement, and renews group accident insurance annually. In a sector where daily earnings fluctuate wildly and formal benefits like PF or ESI remain out of reach, this system is a lifeline the members created for themselves.
External helping hand
Such initiatives are not just restricted to people on the ground. In early 2025, Rotary International District 3234, tied up with the government, distributed 100 pink autos to women in Chennai. Cholan Tours, a private tour agency, launched the women e-auto driver programme in Madurai, where they equipped 20 women with technical skills, customer service training, and tourism knowledge.
For Anandhavalli, this initiative forged her career path. “I was a housewife,” says the 35-year-old driver. “I was always interested in driving, but I didn’t know how to enter this field.”
The company, along with hard skill training, got them a licence, provided uniforms and soft-skills classes, including spoken English. Today, she ferries foreign tourists through the temple streets, receiving plenty of positive reviews from them. But the pride she carries in town is even closer to home. “Now, when my daughter asks for something, I buy it with my own money without being dependent on anyone.”
Finance is only one part of the community’s story. The psychological toll runs deep. “Some passengers say, ‘Oh, lady driver? Great!’ They encourage us, but some cancel the ride when they see a woman driver,” Mohana says.
When VPMS members call her, shaken after a cancellation, she tells them: “From the beginning, we have lived in this habit of being pushed aside. Now we are coming out slowly. If we stop because someone said something, how will our families survive?”
The murmurs are similar across the state. Anandhavalli says, “Some male drivers feel we are competing with them. They show a little hatred.” Her response? “We don’t argue. We just smile and stay silent.”
If Chennai represents organised resistance and Madurai reflects structured opportunity, Coimbatore tells the story of seasoned endurance.
“I joined the auto line in 1997,” says N Bhagyalakshmi from Coimbatore, who has spent nearly three decades in the industry. “In these many years, there have been many humiliations. Many asked, ‘Why can’t you stay at home? Can’t you find another job?’” She remembers standing for hours at autorickshaw stands, waiting for a ride. “If I were the first auto in the morning, there would be no ride till 4 pm. If I were the last, again, no ride. I would sit inside the auto and cry.”
But she kept at it, raising two daughters who went on to earn multiple degrees, and supporting a husband who once worked as a manual labourer before eventually joining the transportation line himself. “Today, they are settled in life. That is because of this auto.”
The industry, however, has changed, according to Bhagyalakshmi. “Earlier, everything ran through the stand. Income was sufficient. Now there are more autos, more bike taxis, more apps. Ipo kadal-la erangi muthu edukurathu pola iruku (It is like diving into the sea and picking pearls). You have to work very hard to earn even `1,000.”
With a motto of helping peer women riders in the city, under the guidance of Mohana Sundari and VPMS Chennai, she has formed an informal network of nearly 100 drivers, waiting to formally register so government schemes can reach them directly.
“Every woman in this field has a story behind her life,” Bhagyalakshmi says. “All are struggling women. They come here to look after their children, to earn, and live with dignity.”