In a busy traffic signal, where honking and impatience usually take over, one young woman has been quietly doing something different. She is not in uniform, she does not have authority to fine anyone, yet people listen to her. Over time, she has come to be known as Pune’s “dancing traffic girl”, and her way of working has slowly started changing how people behave on the road.
Shubhi Jain did not come from a background where such choices are common. As she shared in a post by Humans of Bombay, she grew up in Bina, a small town in Madhya Pradesh, where expectations from girls were fairly simple and predictable. She said, “People call me the ‘dancing traffic girl’… but the truth is, I’m not even a traffic officer. I grew up in Bina, a small town in Madhya Pradesh, where girls aren’t really expected to build careers. The plan was simple – get married and settle down.”
But she always felt different from that plan. She described herself as someone active and involved, adding, “But I was always the odd one out. A national-level athlete in long jump, head girl, always outdoors.” Her early inspiration also came from a fictional character, something she openly admitted: “As a kid, I was obsessed with Chandramukhi Chautala from the TV show, FIR. I loved how she talked and conducted herself in the show. I grew up wanting to be like her – a police officer.”
Her reason for joining was not formal recognition. As she explained, “I just wanted to experience what it felt like to serve, closest to what I wanted to do as a police officer.”
Once she started volunteering at traffic signals, she noticed something that did not sit well with her. She said, “When I got to the signal, I noticed something – people didn’t respect the uniform; they feared it.” According to her, the usual approach involved shouting and strict commands, which often led to irritation among commuters.
That is where she chose a different approach. She explained, “So I thought of doing things differently. I smiled. I used humour and a little sarcasm to make people listen without feeling disrespected.” Instead of only pointing out mistakes, she also made it a point to acknowledge good behaviour. “I even started thanking people who followed the rules – helmet, seatbelt, indicators… things we usually ignore,” she added.
What began as a short stint turned into something more meaningful. “Those 20 days changed everything. The department loved my work so much that they let me continue, even without any obligation,” she said.
For her, the motivation is simple and does not depend on official designation. “Because I may not wear the uniform… but I live its purpose,” she said. And the impact, according to her, is visible in small everyday moments: “And the best part? When people to follow the rules, that’s when I know it’s making a difference.”
Shubhi Jain did not come from a background where such choices are common. As she shared in a post by Humans of Bombay, she grew up in Bina, a small town in Madhya Pradesh, where expectations from girls were fairly simple and predictable. She said, “People call me the ‘dancing traffic girl’… but the truth is, I’m not even a traffic officer. I grew up in Bina, a small town in Madhya Pradesh, where girls aren’t really expected to build careers. The plan was simple – get married and settle down.”
But she always felt different from that plan. She described herself as someone active and involved, adding, “But I was always the odd one out. A national-level athlete in long jump, head girl, always outdoors.” Her early inspiration also came from a fictional character, something she openly admitted: “As a kid, I was obsessed with Chandramukhi Chautala from the TV show, FIR. I loved how she talked and conducted herself in the show. I grew up wanting to be like her – a police officer.”
From MBA student to traffic volunteer
Life took her to Pune for higher studies, where she pursued an MBA. It was during an internship in Indore that she found an opportunity that would shape her journey. She recalled, “During a college internship, I chose Indore and stumbled upon a traffic police volunteer program. They told me upfront, ‘We can’t give you a certificate because you’re not from a local college.’ But I didn’t care.”Her reason for joining was not formal recognition. As she explained, “I just wanted to experience what it felt like to serve, closest to what I wanted to do as a police officer.”
Once she started volunteering at traffic signals, she noticed something that did not sit well with her. She said, “When I got to the signal, I noticed something – people didn’t respect the uniform; they feared it.” According to her, the usual approach involved shouting and strict commands, which often led to irritation among commuters.
That is where she chose a different approach. She explained, “So I thought of doing things differently. I smiled. I used humour and a little sarcasm to make people listen without feeling disrespected.” Instead of only pointing out mistakes, she also made it a point to acknowledge good behaviour. “I even started thanking people who followed the rules – helmet, seatbelt, indicators… things we usually ignore,” she added.
How the ‘dancing’ tag came in
Her energetic style became noticeable quickly. Moving around constantly, managing vehicles and signaling at the same time, she ended up creating a unique presence at the junction. She described it in a simple way: “Being a sportsperson, I was constantly on the move – running between cars, gesturing, saluting. Main aise bhaagti thi ki logo ko laga I was dancing…and that’s how the name stuck.”What began as a short stint turned into something more meaningful. “Those 20 days changed everything. The department loved my work so much that they let me continue, even without any obligation,” she said.
Doing it even without the uniform
Today, Shubhi balances a regular corporate job along with her personal life. But her connection to traffic volunteering has not ended. She continues to step in whenever she finds time. As she put it, “Today, I am married, and I do have a corporate job, but whenever I get the time, I go straight to my signal.”For her, the motivation is simple and does not depend on official designation. “Because I may not wear the uniform… but I live its purpose,” she said. And the impact, according to her, is visible in small everyday moments: “And the best part? When people to follow the rules, that’s when I know it’s making a difference.”