Dad bought me a book once called "Cars"- how they work. That book changed my life.
I grew up watching top gear. I still love it and will spend a few hours watching stuff I've seen before all over again. My childhood was pretty standard. I still have my first dinky (a matchbox police car based on the Rover (Standard in India) 2000. It’s minus the 'A' pillars now, but still goes straighter than most cars on the road. I used to sit and oil the axles just so that the squeaks would stop. Strangely enough my first love was not the family car. It was a REALLY old vintage car sitting in a garage in Calcutta (now Kolkata). I actually used to dream about how I could replace the engine in it, get it a new paint job and a new life; I was 10 years old at the time. Spoke to dad about it; he gave me a concerned look and didn’t say anything. I think he knew better than me what was coming.
Fast forward to age 21 and my short love affair with bikes (none of them my own). I crashed one time too many (actually 5) and took a 'grown up' decision to steal dads car instead. My first car, a five speed Maruti 800. LOVED IT!!! But I also realized that I have NO control over myself at a car accessories store. Alloy rims, upsized tyresin, Black lights inside the cab and an overly loud stereo with with a woofer where the boot is supposed to be all made me live up to the punjabi munda stereotype.
Drove the car from Mumbai to Jamnagar (Gujarat). From Jamnagar to Kochi, Kochi back to Mumbai. Then from Allahabad to Delhi (The last of those being the maddest as a very good friend of mine went with me ON A BIKE in the November cold and everything. We finished it in one day. After that there was Chennai to Bangalore and back; and finally, Chennai to Mumbai. Kind of settled in at Mumbai and would generally drive all over town at night (‘town’ in this respect includes Lonavala). Oh, and in between I learned how to fly fixed wing aircraft, then Helicopters and was flying Helos for the Navy.
Life was good and so I decided to go and mess it all up. Became a statistic by having two major accidents in the car (was drunk silly both times)
. I finally decided it was time to grow up and sold it. This started another love affair – with the Old Honda City. Bought a type I OHC 1.3 in 2007; was one of the best decisions I ever made. Went all Punjabi with it AGAIN. Wine Red with a Black hood and roof, Rims, custom interiors, Typhoon intake, Alloy rims, MOMO this and that, 2 amps, Neons, the lot. It was an obsession: I just could NEVER let anyone else drive my car. I got into a lot of trouble once when I told a friend of a friend to ‘Take a cab home’ just because she would keep saying someone else should drive the car. Rude? Yes, but that’s just me. In my car I am ruler, king, dictator.
I had three coffee destinations while I stayed in Colaba: the ‘Next door place’ at Shivaji Park, the ‘Regular place’ at Juhu and the ‘Weekend place’ at Lonavala (any of you from around Mumbai will know which coffee shop I’m talking about). I have lost count of the number of times I drove on that expressway.
Life was good again (so you know what’s coming next). I had a seizure while driving, the last image I remember from that night was the speedometer reading 110 and rising. I smashed into a wall left side first, missing a pole by about a foot. Fortunately, I was alone. Waking up was one of the most surreal experiences ever. I had bitten my tongue and was bleeding from the mouth. The cops later told me that they thought I was dead… So that’s why I woke up lying in a drain…
I was not permitted to drive after that; it was considered too much of a risk
. The first thing I did after I was allowed to drive again and completed my MBA? Surprise, surprise, bought a car. Which one? An Old Honda City Type II 1.5. The first thing I did with my latest one was drive from Kolkata to Hyderabad with my dad (this May). My latest car, my latest project. With any luck this one will not end the way the last two did.
I remember seeing a bumper sticker on a red Type II Honda City which was flying down Peddar road which said “LOVE CARS, LIVE CARS”. Four words that capture a LOT of what my life is about. It’s a pleasure to be part of this community, and really nice to know that there are those of us around who give our machines the respect they deserve.
Hi guys, here’s to good times to come.
Appu
p.s- The only time I EVER sit in the passenger seat in my own car is when a mechanic is testing it; and even that hurts.