The smog is hanging just right. The city is humming softly under its usual veil of soot, stray horns, and the not-so-faint aroma of ambition. Crows cackle from overhead wires. A chaiwala on the corner is already on his third kettle. And we, as one should on a weekday morning, are blocking traffic with four large SUVs and an expensive-looking camera drone.
This was our attempt to navigate India's mad, magnificent terrain with four very different Mahindra SUVs: the XUV 3XO, the Thar Roxx, the Scorpio-N, and the XUV700. Each has its own identity. Each meant to thrive in a different environment. Together, they're Mahindra's greatest hits re-recorded for the present day with better vocals, smarter production, and a surprising amount of wireless tech. Our journey? From Mumbai's motorised mayhem to the hills of Mount Abu. A test of city sanity, highway stamina, and mountain mettle. Let's begin.
If you've ever driven through Mumbai at rush hour, let's be honest: Every hour here is rush hour, and that is why compact SUVs are having a bit of a moment. The cars that survive this city need to be sharp, nimble, relaxing, and preferably immune to emotional damage.
This brings us to the Mahindra XUV 3XO, the smallest member of our quartet and, frankly, the most surprising. Technically, it falls into the sub-four-metre compact SUV category, but it doesn't carry the usual air of compromise. You don't get the sense that Mahindra said, "Let's build something cheap and cheerful." What you get instead is a car that feels thoroughly considered. It was as if someone, possibly with a notepad and an espresso, sat down and thought, "What does a car actually need to be good at in a city like this?"
There are details in the design that suggest actual thought. The sharply cut daytime running lights give it a kind of angular confidence. Inside, there's soft-touch trim in places where many rivals wouldn't bother. The layout is symmetrical and sensible, and even the plastics seem to have been chosen by people who understand the difference between 'cheap' and 'clean'. It's not luxury, but it's far from lazy.
Powering the 3XO is a 1.2-litre turbocharged petrol engine, which produces a rather generous 130 horsepower. That doesn't sound like a great deal in isolation, but in a compact SUV, it's more than sufficient. It feels sprightly, as if it wants to get things done. More importantly, it doesn't protest when you ask it to sprint across a junction or squeeze past a bus that's decided to stop in the middle of the road for no obvious reason. It also has drive modes. Three of them, in fact, are Zip, Zap, and Zoom. Zip is your urban default: smooth, quiet, and unbothered. Zap sharpens the throttle just enough for a bit of extra agility. Zoom is full-fat for when you want to feel like you've made a spirited life decision. Or, more realistically, when you're in a hurry to get through a yellow light, and there's an autorickshaw trying to merge sideways.
Around town, it's immensely clever. Hill hold, hill descent control, all-wheel disc brakes, six airbags as standard, and even a driver attention alert system that ever so politely reminds you to stop rubbernecking at billboards and focus on what's in front of you. It's not just a safety kit for the brochure; it's stuff you actually find useful in daily traffic. Then there's the 360-degree camera, which is less a convenience feature and more a survival tool in Mumbai, where parking spots are often shared with stray dogs, tea stalls, and bits of forgotten scaffolding. The 3XO also lets you start the engine remotely and pre-cool the cabin via the app, which is utterly logical in a climate that begins roasting your dashboard the moment the sun rises.
Inside, the dual 10.25-inch screen setup dominates the dash but doesn't overwhelm it. It feels like a car that wants to keep you connected but isn't needy about it. You get wireless Apple CarPlay and a Harman Kardon sound system that can handle both late-night jazz and early-morning traffic podcasts without distortion. And yes, of course, there's a panoramic sunroof because no modern SUV is allowed out without one and yet the 3XO was the segment's first SUV to get it. You'll most likely check it to see if the monsoon has started.
But what really makes the 3XO stand out is the way it moves through the city. We pointed it down to narrow bylanes that would give larger SUVs a panic attack. It executed U-turns in spaces most cars would consider spiritually impossible. And at no point did it feel out of its depth. It didn't huff or puff or emit the mechanical equivalent of an eye-roll. It just... got on with it.
That's the 3XO's most significant achievement, really. It feels comfortable in its environment. While the Thar postures, the Scorpio-N flexes, and the XUV700 glides along like a business-class lounge on wheels, the 3XO just slots into the flow of the city with almost no fuss. It understands the rhythms of Mumbai's quick bursts of speed, the sudden halts, and the endless zig-zag of traffic that defies both geometry and logic. It's trying to be useful, smart, and just nice enough to live with every day.
And in a place like this, that's probably more valuable than raw power or off-road cred. The 3XO may be the smallest car here, but in the city, it's the one with the best sense of direction.
Park a Thar Roxx anywhere, and two things happen. First, a crowd begins to form: people with smartphones, children on tiptoe, and even the occasional stray dog pausing its day to stare. Second, someone, without fail, will slide up and ask if you're an influencer. This is not a car you drive quietly.
That's because the Thar Roxx is a bit of a spectacle. It looks like it was forged rather than assembled chunky in a way that's oddly endearing, as though a Tonka truck and a gym membership had a slightly rebellious act. The Roxx looks imposing with its 19-inch wheels, a lifted stance with off-road credible ground clearance, a more mature set of tools like CrawlSmart IntelliTurn, and a slightly suspicious confidence in its own ability. Now, you'd expect it to be good off-road with everything mentioned before. That's the easy bit. It is. It can clamber, climb, scramble, and ford things that most cars would report to the police. But what's more intriguing is that what actually surprises is how well it behaves on-road.
This is no longer the pogo-stick Thar of old, the one that bounced around corners like a Labrador with too much Red Bull. No, this one has... restraint. Damping. Poise. Not too much, mind it's still a Thar, but enough that you can now recommend it to someone who wears loafers unironically. Refinement is the big surprise here. It is not the leather-and-silence kind you get in European SUVs, but it is a meaningful reduction in the drama of movement. It goes around corners without leaning like a sailboat, and it stays planted at highway speeds without making you question your life choices, and this is important. It no longer requires pre-emptive back support planning before you hit a speed bump.
We drove the Roxx into that strange urban periphery that's neither quite city nor countryside. The kind of area where a six-storey luxury apartment sits opposite an abandoned warehouse, and the roads change surface every 200 metres. It's like a SimCity build where someone got distracted halfway through. There are potholes large enough to qualify as water features. There are speed breakers shaped like aggressive architecture. And the Roxx just eats it all up.
CrawlSmart proves especially handy here, not just on proper trails but in real-life situations like climbing steep basement ramps with loose gravel or creeping over unfinished pavements without cracking a bumper. It's off-road technology that makes just as much sense in your builder's parking lot as it does on a trail in Ladakh.
Inside, it's surprisingly civilised. You get ventilated seats, which make all the difference when stuck in traffic with the sun blazing down. There are rear A/C vents and a decently sized boot, and that now-essential accessory in Indian SUVs is a panoramic sunroof. You'll use it mainly to check if pigeons are roosting overhead, but it adds a sense of openness that makes the Thar feel taller and more spacious than it already is. And then there's the way it makes you feel. The Thar Roxx is not a subtle SUV. It doesn't enter a scene. It arrives. And people notice. You'll get thumbs-ups from scooterists, double-takes from sedan drivers, and at least one uncle asking you if it's "imported." It isn't, of course, but that's beside the point. This is a car that triggers emotions. Which, in a world of increasingly clinical automobiles, feels refreshing.
It also triggers a certain kind of behaviour. You drive differently in a Thar. You lean into the corners slightly, not because you have to, but because it feels like something the car would approve of. You wave at other Thars on the road, and they wave back as if you've joined a club whose only requirement is a healthy sense of self-confidence and an appreciation for knobby tyres. But for all its flex, there's a welcome layer of sincerity to the Roxx now. It's not just about looking the part. Underneath the body cladding and attitude, there's genuine usability. It's no longer a weekend toy or a YouTube thumbnail. It's something you could live with every day without having to apologise for your back, your fuel bills, or your fashion choices.
If the XUV 3XO is the pragmatic city dweller, quiet, clever, and well-organised, the Thar Roxx is your gym bro friend who shows up in cargo pants, quotes Marcus Aurelius, and offers to carry everyone's bags. You're glad he's there.
So yes, people stare. Yes, it gets photographed more than most people on Marine Drive. And yes, at some point, someone will ask if you're planning to start a travel vlog. But by then, you'll already be somewhere a little off the map, with one wheel casually resting on a boulder and the stereo playing something strangely appropriate. And you'll think, "Well… maybe I am an influencer now."
At this point, we're finally out of Mumbai. And frankly, we're grateful. Not because we don't like the city but because it's one of the few places in the world where traffic can somehow be both apocalyptic and charming. We now have room to stretch. Both legs and speedometers. This is Scorpio-N country.
Now, before we get into it, here's a small history lesson. The original Mahindra Scorpio, launched in 2002, was something of a national moment. It proved that an Indian manufacturer could build a vehicle that was not just competent but desirable. Tough, tall, and not a little bit heroic. It had presence. And, more importantly, it had pride. It was, and remains, one of the first homegrown cars you could buy without having to explain yourself.
The Scorpio-N is the spiritual successor to that machine. But instead of just resting on old laurels and adding some garnish, Mahindra has gone and reengineered the whole thing. New chassis. New platform. Modern electronics. And a face that suggests it could bite through granite, given the right mood and perhaps a little sauce.
And yes, it still rides on a ladder-frame chassis, which, by the laws of physics and long-standing SUV tradition, should make it bounce and wallow and generally behave like a sofa strapped to a camel. But it doesn't. Somehow, Mahindra has managed to give it a ride that's... well, rather plush. It's not floaty or soft in a disconcerting way. It just soaks up the rough bits with the detached calm of a yoga instructor who's just found their centre. Frequency-selective dampers play their part here, adjusting their behaviour depending on what's underfoot. And the result is something you don't expect: grace. Broken patches of tarmac? Leveled. Expansion joints? Smoothed over. It glides in a way that no tall, seven-seat SUV on ladder rails really ought to. It's like discovering that your cousin, who's built like a nightclub bouncer, also plays the cello and speaks Japanese.
Now, let's talk about the cabin. And I use that word deliberately because it does feel more like a cabin than a cockpit. This is a car designed not to dazzle but to endure. Everything's been put where it should be. The controls fall easily to hand. The touchscreen doesn't shout at you. The seats, particularly the middle-row captain's chairs, are sculpted in a way that suggests the designer may have spent some time in an Eames showroom.
In fact, I'd go so far as to say those captain seats are non-negotiable. They transform what could be just another three-row SUV into something approximating a long-distance lounge. You get actual legroom. Rear air-con vents that work. USB ports where you want them.
Mechanically, the 2.2-litre diesel is the one to have. It makes 172bhp, but more crucially, it produces a swell of torque that feels like it's been sourced from a small tugboat. The 6-speed automatic is smooth and intuitive, unlike the over-eager hunting for gears or sudden surges. It just gets on with the job, quietly and effectively, like a well-paid butler who's been with the family for years. And then there's the 4x4 system. Yes, a proper one. It is not the soft, marketing-friendly AWD some other SUVs offer, but it is a full-fat, low-range-enabled, mechanical-locking, terrain-mapping brute of a system. Of course, we didn't need it on the highway. But that's hardly the point. Having it feels a bit like carrying a Swiss Army knife into a posh restaurant. You won't need to saw through wood or file your nails at the table, but it's reassuring to know you could.
Where the Scorpio-N really comes into its own, though, is on the open road. India's highways are improving. Fastag booths work more often than they don't, lane markings exist now, and rest stops are evolving into actual destinations with functioning toilets and improbably good samosas. You can cover serious ground. And the Scorpio-N is the perfect companion.
It cruises at triple-digit speeds without complaint. NVH levels are impressively muted; there's very little wind or tyre noise, and the engine hums along in the background like it's trying not to be a bother. It doesn't get buffeted by passing lorries. It doesn't pogo over joints or groan under strain. It just... goes.
And it goes with a kind of calm authority. It's reassuring. The sort of vehicle you'd trust to get your entire family to the hills and back with minimal fuss and maximum dignity. If the 3XO is the young upstart with shiny trainers, and the Thar Roxx is the flexing cousin with a GoPro addiction, the Scorpio-N is the big brother. The one who quietly got a real job pays for dinner and keeps a multi-tool in the glovebox. Just in case. Big-hearted. Steady-handed. And, dare I say it, wise.
And now, we get to this. The flagship. The XUV700. Or, as I like to think of it, the moment Mahindra stood up, straightened its tie, and said, "Right, your move."
This isn't just another SUV. It's the line in the sand. The one that declared that India wasn't merely a fast follower in the automotive space. It could lead, too. The XUV700 was the first to proudly wear Mahindra's new Twin Peaks badge. The first Indian SUV to bring Level 2 ADAS into the mainstream. And the first to make German marques glance over their shoulders not because of price but because of substance.
We switched to it just as the terrain began to change. Mumbai and its ever-replenishing chaos are now firmly in the rearview mirror. Ahead: the winding ascent to Mount Abu. The roads are narrow. The curves sharpen. The air grows thinner, cooler, and calmer. You'd think this is where a large SUV might start to feel a little nervous. But the XUV700? It seems to relish the challenge.
The first thing you notice is how un-SUV-like it feels. That's because it sits on a monocoque chassis with a multi-link rear suspension setup that is more commonly associated with cars that take themselves rather seriously. The result is a vehicle that doesn't crash over bumps, doesn't pogo through corners, and doesn't make your passengers groan at the sight of a hairpin bend.
There are two engines on offer. Both are pretty good. There's a 2.0-litre turbo petrol that makes almost 200bhp, and it does so with a level of enthusiasm that's rather uncharacteristic for something that can seat seven. It's eager, refined, and surprisingly brisk. The diesel, a 2.2-litre turbo unit, is the one with all the torque and an optional AWD system. This is the engine you want if your route includes things like mountain passes, unplanned river crossings, or sudden inclines best described as "vertical-ish."
What's clever is how the power is delivered. Both engines are paired with automatics that behave like someone actually taught them manners. You don't get that panicked, rubber-band effect you often find in large SUVs with ambitious gearboxes. Here, shifts are clean, well-timed, and crucially unremarkable, which is exactly what you want.
Inside, it's all been turned up to eleven. Dual 10.25-inch HD displays stretch across the dashboard like the control panel of a premium lounge. Alexa voice integration is baked in, meaning you can change your music, set a route, or check the weather by muttering into the ether. ADAS comes fully loaded: adaptive cruise, lane keep assist, forward collision warning, emergency braking, blind spot monitoring... the list goes on.
Normally, a tech list this long would have me reaching for a warm cloth and a lie-down. But in the XUV700, it's all been put together with surprising taste. Nothing feels gratuitous. The user interface is intuitive. The screens are fast. Even the voice commands don't make you want to shout expletives, just your destination.
On the road, the XUV700 shrinks around you in the best possible way. You'd think something this big would feel unwieldy through the tight bends and narrow inclines of Mount Abu. But it doesn't. The steering is light but not vague. Visibility is superb. The brake-ventilated discs at all four corners are sharp and confidence-inspiring. It's not a car you manhandle into a corner; it's one you guide. And it follows through with the poise of a much smaller machine.
Now, we need to talk about safety. Because this isn't just a talking point for Mahindra. The XUV700 holds the record for being the safest Indian-made car tested by Global NCAP, scoring five stars for both adult and child occupant protection. That's not just commendable but rather significant. Because what it says is that Mahindra didn't just want this car to feel safe. They wanted it to be safe.
And when you're doing 50kmph around a blind hairpin bend with monkeys perched on the crash barriers and buses coming the other way with the confidence of freight trains, that safety rating starts to feel rather personal.
Perhaps the most remarkable thing about the XUV700 is how unremarkable it makes everything feel. And I mean that in the best way possible. You expect effort. You expect some kind of compromise. But what you get is serenity. It just does what you ask, without fuss, and without needing to shout about it.
There's dignity in how it goes about its business. Sure, it'll entertain you with a turn of pace or a well-judged overtake. But mostly, it just gets on with being extremely good at everything. Family haulier. Long-distance cruiser. Tech showcase. Safety cocoon. It's an occasional ego boost. So, is it perfect? Of course not. Nothing is. But is it the most complete SUV Mahindra has ever made? Quite possibly. And in a country where roads vary by the minute, and traffic logic is more folklore than fact, that's saying something.
The sky, at last, does the decent thing. It turns a soft amber, the clouds stretch thin like well-worn linen, and the air begins to carry that alpine mix of pine needles, faint diesel, and, somehow, quiet achievement.
Four SUVs. Four distinct answers to four very different questions.
The XUV 3XO is your sharp, city-dwelling friend. Neat haircut, wore smart shoes, and was always on time. It's clever and composed and punches well above its weight. The Thar Roxx? That's the flamboyant one. Big boots and a louder voice but is surprisingly thoughtful when no one's watching. A brawler with a bookshelf. The Scorpio-N is the grown-up. Solid handshake, was dependable, and was a bit of a softy underneath the stern face. Built for long roads and more extended conversations. And the XUV700? Well, that's the overachiever. The one who does everything, never makes a fuss, and leaves you wondering how.
They're not perfect. But they are right. Right for this country, these roads, and the curious contradictions that come with both. Which one should you buy? That depends on where you're going—and how you like to get there. As for us? We'll stay put a little longer. After four Mahindras, 1,000 kilometres, and more chai than medically advised, we've earned the view.
