The launch of flagship welfare schemes like Mahalakshmi – which offers free bus rides for women in state run transport – alongside increased competition from bike taxis and out-of-district auto permits, has only deepened their distress.
Published Jul 24, 2025 | 3:35 PM ⚊ Updated Jul 24, 2025 | 3:35 PM
Auto Drivers remain uncertain about futures, await promises made in 2023
Synopsis: Nearly two years after the Congress came to power in Telangana with promises of financial aid and welfare reforms for auto drivers, none of the key assurances – such as the ₹12,000 annual assistance or the creation of an Auto Driver Welfare Board – have been fulfilled. Auto drivers across the State say their livelihoods have worsened due to rising costs, shrinking income from competition like bike taxis and free bus services, and lack of policy support.
When the Congress swept to power in Telangana in 2023, it did so on the back of ambitious pre-poll pledges aimed at the working class – among them, a dedicated package for auto drivers, listed under Point 15 of its manifesto: “Transport/Auto Drivers Welfare”. The promises included:
Two years on, the assurances have yet to materialise. Worse, auto drivers across Telangana told South First that, in the meantime, their livelihoods have further deteriorated due to rising operational costs, falling incomes, and mounting debt.
The launch of flagship welfare schemes like Mahalakshmi – which offers free bus rides for women in state run transport – alongside increased competition from bike taxis and out-of-district auto permits, has only deepened their distress.
According to drivers and unions, the government has so far shown little intent to course-correct.
‘Impossible to make ends meet’
Anil Kumar, 52, who has been driving an auto for six years and operates from beneath the Irrum Manzil Metro station in Hyderabad, describes his family’s financial strain.
“My wife earns about ₹15,000. I earn about the same each month. Our rent is ₹8,000, and it’s not even enough to pay for my children’s education,” he told South First. “Forty percent of my income goes back into expenses to run the auto. I work over 12 hours each day, but it’s still not enough.”
At the NIMS hospital auto stand, R Ravinder, 46, echoed the same sense of despair.
Anil Kumar
“The most I can make in a day is about ₹500. We once made ₹20,000 a month – now it’s barely ₹15,000. How am I supposed to educate my children? What am I supposed to eat and feed my wife and two kids?” he asked. With frustration evident, he added, “We are alive just for the sake of it.”
For Vinod Kumar, 55, who has been in the profession for 26 years, the change in fortunes is stark.
“Before the Congress came, we were able to make a decent living. We were left with ₹800 in profits. Now, all I make is ₹500–₹600,” he said. “Our rent has increased to ₹12,000, and I pay a daily ₹400 rent for the auto. I’m only surviving because my son works.”
Debt is now a constant across the board. “Forget our children’s education – it’s not enough to get through the month without taking small loans,” said Anil. “Those have piled up to ₹50,000. On top of that, I pay ₹7,000 per month in finance charges for my auto.”
Union leaders argue that far from being neutral, the ruling Congress’ policies are actively eroding the viability of auto driving as a profession. Chief among their concerns is the Mahalakshmi scheme.
“The only hires we get are those who are travelling outside the bus and metro routes,” said Anil Kumar. “I don’t think Revanth Reddy is going to shut the bus scheme. So, it’ll be beneficial if they at least assist us with the ₹12,000 he promised. Even that ₹6,000 yearly cost – no one has reimbursed me.”
Ravinder said they feel abandoned across the board. “We did not get the crop loan waiver or the house. And now the bus scheme has eaten into our livelihoods,” he said. “On top of that, we still have to pay ₹400 rent daily for the auto – whether or not we get passengers.”
Vinod, too, now depends on aggregator platforms. “I have given up on direct hires, only relying on aggregators for income now,” he said. “And as if this wasn’t bad enough, the government is now mulling the introduction of 65,000 new autos in the city. That’s going to bury us.”
Auto drivers also point to the unchecked influx of district-registered vehicles as a destabilising force in Hyderabad’s transport sector.
They explain that owning and operating an auto in the city costs around ₹5.6 lakh, including the vehicle, permits, and required documentation. In contrast, a similar auto can be procured for approximately ₹2.8 lakh in districts outside Hyderabad – nearly half the cost.
This significant disparity in initial investment gives district-based drivers a financial advantage, as their monthly EMIs are lower, allowing them to reach profitability much sooner.
City drivers say this has tilted the playing field against them, and accuse the traffic administration of ignoring the issue entirely. “They say it’s too far gone to fix,” said one driver.
Ravinder admits to using this workaround himself – but says it’s not by choice. “Getting an auto in the city isn’t profitable, which is why we register outside. But even with that, the business is just not there.”
Meanwhile, not everyone agrees on the primary factor behind the shrinking income and the steady erosion of auto driving as a viable profession.
“The real blow has come from bike taxis, not buses,” said Shaik Salauddin, head of the Telangana Gig and Platform Workers Union (TGPWU). “These illegal vehicles have taken away nearly 50 percent of our business, yet the government does nothing.”
Vemula Maraiah, President of the TRSKV Auto Union, holds a different view. “The free bus scheme for women may look progressive on paper, but it has crippled auto earnings across Telangana. We’ve lost 60 percent of our business,” he said.
“Over a hundred auto drivers have died – many of them driven by despair. If this continues, we may see more suicides.”
Meanwhile, Salauddin criticised the lack of permit enforcement. “Nearly 40 percent of the autos in the city come from outside districts, where permit costs are cheaper,” he said. “This is a complete failure of traffic vigilance. The government stays silent, fearing backlash.”
They argue that the state should look to more robust transport regimes. “Mumbai has strict zone enforcement and regular fare revisions. Why can’t Telangana do the same?” Salauddin asked.
Maraiah added that the government’s gestures – such as traffic challan discounts – amount to little more than tokenism. “Most of their other promises – whether a review of permits or a discount on challans – are regular practice,” he said. “That’s not policy reform.”
Beyond the absence of the ₹12,000 promised assistance, what auto drivers find even more troubling is the lack of a structured plan to support their livelihoods.
“There is no news on the ₹12,000 despite it being close to two years,” said Ravinder. “We were promised housing, a waiver on loans, and financial assistance – but nothing has reached us.”
Anil has grown sceptical. “I can only buy one pair of clothes for myself each year. Any sudden expense can push me into disarray,” he said. “I don’t think the ₹12,000 will come. It was a promise for votes.”
Vinod, too, is disillusioned. “KCR gave us tax breaks. He said he’d waive fitness test costs. Now we’re struggling to survive and no one listens,” he said.
At their age, switching jobs is not a viable option, say many. “I can’t even switch jobs at this age,” Ravinder said. “I work for 14 hours a day and don’t know any other work. What choice do I have?”
Auto unions are also critical of recent government suggestions that they be included under the Gig Workers Welfare Board.
“They talk about including us under the Gig Workers Welfare Board,” said Anil. “But how does that make sense? We’ve been doing this job for decades. We need our welfare board.”
“Auto drivers are part of a traditional, organised informal sector,” Salauddin clarified.
For Maraiah, the issue is now one of eroded trust. “That ₹12,000 was a promise made just to win votes,” he said bluntly. “We don’t believe it will come.”
“Not a single guarantee has been implemented,” Maraiah told South First. The TRSKV Auto Union, which he heads, represents over two lakh members across Telangana. “Transport Minister Ponnam Prabhakar keeps asking for time. How long will this continue?” he asked.
Salauddin agreed. “We’ve met the government repeatedly. How much longer should we wait?” he asked. “We don’t believe that money is coming. That’s why we’ve shifted focus to pushing for a welfare board. But even that’s stuck.”
Maraiah is equally firm. “Some officials are saying we’ll be included in the Gig Workers Welfare Board,” he said. “But how does that make sense? We’ve been operating as a union since 2000 – we’re not gig workers.”
As frustration builds, many in the auto driving community say they no longer feel seen.
“The government doesn’t see us,” said Vinod. “But we are the ones moving the city every day.”
(Edited by Dese Gowda)
