A fleet of overcrowded Tata Magic IRISes darts through the traffic maze at Maheshtala on the city’s south-western outskirts everyday — number plates blank, breaking every road rule in the book.

Paucity of public transport options along the stretch between Jinjira Bazar and Achipur on Budge Budge Trunk Road makes this rabble of about 50 rideshare vehicles the lifeline for people living in an area large enough to be called a small township.

Touted as the “most comfortable” mode of shared public transport by Tata Motors, the Magic IRIS is meant for four passengers unless these were tweaked like those plying in Maheshtala to accommodate eight people, some standing precariously on footboards on either side or sitting on roofs.

The Magic IRIS is closed from all sides, has four wheels and a car-like steering — features that make it look and feel safer, sturdier and smoother than a three-wheel autorickshaw.

“Buses are few and far between, taxis often refuse to come this side and the number of autorickshaws is way too less to ferry so many people. Although we know that these vehicles are illegal, we use them because they are the quickest mode of transport available here,” said Soumya Mukherjee, a resident of Dakghar, around 8km from Taratala.

Mukherjee, a private bank employee, regularly commutes in such illegal vehicles to reach Jinjira Bazar, from where he catches a bus or hires taxi to reach his office on Park Street.

Like him, there are countless others availing themselves of this point-to-point service in the absence of other reliable modes of public transport.

Given the situation, traffic policemen apparently look the other way when these Magic IRISes without number plates — or some registered as private vehicles — zip past police posts lined along the road.

A resident said: “We can’t do without them, despite the ban on Magic IRIS in areas within Calcutta police’s jurisdiction. We pay fleece fares, arbitrarily decided by the drivers, because of limited transport options in our locality.”

“The operators often hold us to ransom and suddenly raise fares, citing bad roads, waterlogging or increase in fuel prices. If we protest, they misbehave with us. When we go to the police with a complaint, they ask us to identify the vehicle. How can we identify a car that does not have a number?” asked Sheikh Riazul, a commuter between Batanagar to Akra railway station.

The same question haunted the police in the aftermath of the July 31 gang rape of a 24-year-old mother of two in one such “faceless, numberless” vehicle. She was driven around, raped and dumped near her home at Santoshpur Akra, around 10km from Taratala.

The driver was tracked only because the victim could identify two of the accused.

Police officers admitted that it would have been impossible to track down the vehicle in the absence of a registration number.

“The vehicle could be seized because it was parked in front of the house of one of the accused identified by the woman,” said an officer at Maheshtala police station.

The rule book says an officer can slap a case under Section 39A of the motor vehicles act and fine the driver (up to Rs 3,000) for driving a vehicle without a number plate. “We had tried to impound unregistered vehicles but the drivers resort to violence, claiming proximity to the ruling party,” the officer said. “It is the duty of the motor vehicles department to initiate crackdowns. They seldom do.”

Chapal Banerjee, who heads the Alipore motor vehicles office, said regular raids couldn’t be conducted because “we don’t have adequate manpower, especially inspectors”.

Operators claimed they have the support of INTTUC, the Trinamul labour union, to ply the “banned” vehicles without “ever getting booked”. They have even set up full-fledged “Magic” stands outside Akra station, the Dakghar crossing and Pujali near the Hooghly riverbank.

“I bought my vehicle from an authorised dealer with a bank loan and learnt later that it can’t be used to ferry passengers. What is the need for a registration number when I would be ferrying passengers illegally,” said Sheikh Lal, who ferries between Akra Station Road and Dakghar.

Lal said: “A fixed monthly payment to the Trinamul union ensures protection from policemen.”

Trinamul leaders denied backing Magic IRIS operators, though a party flag flutters atop many a vehicle plying on this route. “Our party doesn’t tolerate such activities. We will take strict action,” said Tamanath Bhowmik, the president of the auto and Magic IRIS union in the area and a former chairman-in-council member of the dissolved Maheshtala municipality.

Bhowmik, however, added some vehicles with private registration numbers were allowed to operate on “humanitarian ground”. “We got to be a little lenient sometimes… most of the drivers are young unemployed youths and they need to do something to support their families,” he said.