[iliketurtles]

OMG, it’s an AMG

My 328i was red,
My A35 is white,
I still miss that lovely BMW,
but the baby AMG just feels right

For the goldfish among us that want the short version, here's the bottomline.

What is?: Is car, duh!

*sees pic* Yeh kaunsi gaadi hai?: Mercedes AMG A35

Is AMG???: Haan G

Sacchi?: Mucchi

Is new?: No. Is pre-owned

Kitni chali hai?: Is run 14,157 kms

Aing? Itni kam? How bro?: A wizard never reveals his tricks

Wah. Kitna deti hai?: Tu firse aa gaya? Bhaag yaha se!

Wah ji! (or the Things I like)

• A pint-sized powerhouse that is equally at home being lazy or crazy
  
• Fly-like agility, diminutive profile, and accessible performance makes it a luxury go-kart
  
• Endless grip in the corners (or otherwise) make it a prime candidate for a Fevicol ad
  
• Nimble chassis and confidence-inducing steering makes it a fun attack puppy on meandering b-roads
  
• 300 BHP stock in something weighing a mere 1.5 tons means it’s plenty quick
  
• It reeks of Mercedes, with opulent interiors that would rival cars costing much more
  
• They raided bits from much pricier AMGs, such as the SuperSport display. Paisa vasool!
  
• Adjustable damper settings ensure the ride balances sportiness and comfort beautifully
  
• Burmester surround sound system is blow-your-socks off brilliant. B stands for Boss, *itchin’, and Burmester. Coincidence? I think not.
  
• Baby’s got your back, with lumbar support on offer
  
• Ambient lighting is really a sight to behold on night drives

Naa ji! (Things I don’t quite like)

• Wireless CarPlay in a car released in the 2020's? Perish the thought. You’ll get wired CarPlay, and you’ll like it
  
• The collision avoidance nannies feature more bings and bongs than a Friends spin-off headlining Chandler (may Matthew Perry RIP) set in Kolkata
  
• Low ground clearance make the sight of speedbreakers give my glutes a workout
  
• Touching to see Mercedes’ thoughtfulness, but there are too many touch control options for the infotainment
  
• For a car with so many options, the lack of adjustable side bolsters is galling
  
• Gearbox can be soporific in Comfort, taking an extra beat to wake up and smell the coffee when pushed hard
  
• Like Mumbai real estate, space is at a bit of a premium, particularly for rear passengers
  
• White is the most mind-numbingly boring colour for a car, right alongside grey. They say change is inevitable...

[iliketurtles]

They say nothing lasts forever, except maybe looming regrets from the past and the smell of burnt clutches from one too many burnouts. That’s certainly true of our youth (I never quite understood why they said youth is wasted on the young, until it was too late), and it is increasingly true of the cars we love and drive. It is, to paraphrase Dickens, the best of times, and the worst of times for automotive aficionados.

We stand by and feel our inward, invisible buttons being pressed as infotainment controls get increasingly subsumed into digital screens.

We gaze helplessly as automakers make an AD-ASS of you and me by entrusting key driving functionalities to computers that know not the chaos being wrought on Indian roads.

And if you enjoy saying yours is bigger, and therefore immeasurably better, prepare for a reality check. Engines are being downsized, and you’re going to have to put that measuring tape away.

What’s more, all the shock and awe seems to be coming from the EV ecosystem as we charge headlong into an electric future, lack of charging infra, questionable technology, and general usage etiquette be damned. And that’s before taking into account that a majority of EVs on offer are soulless ghouls. Thank the gods that good ol’ ICE vehicles will be around a little longer.

Wait, what do you mean they’re icing ICE vehicles in Delhi, and seemingly soon, in Mumbai?

Change then, it would seem, is not just a cruel mistress in stained overalls with a wrench in one hand and a vengeful vendetta on her mind. It is seen in soulless engineers in lab coats and fat cat execs in suits making increasingly misguided decisions that leave you screaming at your screen of choice (and into the void, for all it’s worth). Where have all the fun cars gone? Almost no one knows. Lesser still actually give a rat’s rotund derrière about it.

You get my general drift. If you’re like me, you pine for a bygone era, long for the whiff of gasoline tingling your nostrils, yearn for something lost to the sands of time, the spirit of something out of place and time we can no more have. Increasingly, and amusingly, I am aware that I have become the curmudgeonly neighbourhood chacha from my youth that I scoffed at, fist punching the air as he railed against change and the ravages and passage of time.

Just like that uncle, all that is left, and all that I can do, is to rage against the dying of the light. And rage I must.

Because if change is coming for us all, I’m damn well going down with the pedal firmly pressed to the metal.

[iliketurtles]

The truth, whether we like it or not, is this. Change is inevitable, and it takes on many avatars.

From seeing cars get faster and faster every year, they now seem to have maxed out their rev range, and are in some cases even slower than before. Like portly uncles, they’ve become noticeably heavier with the passage of time, not to mention a tad unattractive too. The cars, not the uncles. Although you’re free to opine otherwise.

There’s more. Pricing is through the upper stratosphere, as is the volume of bongs and beeps in the cabin. And then there’s the electric elephant in the room that can’t be ignored.

Now, I’m not one to grab a pitchfork and rant against EVs because I have driven some fun ones, but you have to admit that it doesn’t help when they have names like BE 6e (I’ll be however I want to be, thank you very much), or have company names like the hilariously named Build Your Dreams (it looks even funnier on a car’s derrière), with names like Bao, Pao, Coffee, and Momo (only one of those names was made up. I wish I were kidding. No, I’m not telling you which one is fake. Google is your friend, friend). In fact, I briefly debated launching my own EV brand for enthusiasts, tentatively named Build Some Dreams, Kids. I ended up pulling the plug on it when my highly paid army of lawyers pointed out the acronym would rub too many people the wrong way.

But I digress from my central question, which is this. Where are the small, fun, fast cars that can carve up traffic and corners with equal ease? The pint-sized powerhouses that can drop off kids at classes and in-laws at the old-age home before we race off to meet friends for a cuppa coffee and a spot of spirited driving?

I would argue that their spirit lives on, in cars much like this.

This (you are now reading this in Doug DeMuro’s voice) is a 2023 Mercedes-AMG A35. And it’s mine. All mine.

But boy, did I take my own sweet time reaching my destination.

[iliketurtles]

For the past year or so since selling Red, I’ve been an avid auto enthusiast. Which is to say that I’ve spent as much as the GDP of a small country on Uber Auto rides.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t as averse to the idea as one might have imagined. I could get off at will (get your head out of the gutter, you filthy animal) and parking (that perennial Mumbai woe) was a non-factor. And treating vehicles as a disposable commodity was just so refreshing.

Why the incredible delay in moving on to my next ride? Great question, I respect your curiosity. But try not to be so nosey, no? I had my reasons, baba. In any case, wouldn’t you be more interested in knowing which cars were on my shortlist, however fleetingly? No? Too bad, I’m shoving them into your eyeballs anyways.

BMW i4

Yes, it’s a BMW with some redeeming factors, but I did not consider the i4 since it’s uglier than sin. That’s an immediate dealbreaker in my books. Next please!

Hyundai Ioniq 5

The Ioniq 5 did enter my consideration set (very briefly). But I couldn’t see myself tootling around town in a 45 lakh Hyundai (even if it is supremely handsome). I do like it, but it just hasn’t got the go to match the show. And all the ICCU issues (including those reported on this very forum) were enough to nip that idea in the bud.

Kia EV6

The Kia EV6, on the other hand, definitely has the poke to charge towards the horizon at will. And honestly, I came perilously close to signing the deal, before backing off after being threatened with the beating of a lifetime from my friends and complete social ostracisation if I did so. I value my life, and at least 2 out of my 3 friends, so I respectfully backed off. But I did dig the whole station wagon vibe of the EV6 (no, it isn't an SUV, Kia, no matter how much you want to pitch it as so). Just as well, given the fire sale conducted by Kia (Kia announces discounts on the EV6 | Available for Rs. 49.99 lakhs), which would have given me immeasurable heartburn, besides setting ablaze the theoretical residual value of the car.

BYOD Seal

What about the BYOD Seal, I hear you say? Surely being able to zip along on that much power is an appealing prospect? No, thanks. The only Chinese I look at lustily is a heaping plateful of Triple Schezwan (and the occasional collection of lollipop).

And what is up with the trend of putting that ungainly iPad in the center? I'm not against getting a free tablet with every c̶o̶m̶p̶u̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶e̶l̶s̶ car, but I'm not sold on the idea of it or the Seal. I do like the idea of buying a Superb to get a free umbrella though. Do they even sell it with that freebie anymore? Answers on a postcard, please.

Speaking of ugly iPad's tacked onto the dash...

Volvo C40 Recharge

...what about Volvo’s electric twins? No doubt, like the Chinese offerings (yes, I know Volvo too is technically Chinese), it too has some serious headline numbers. But sadly, there’s not enough soul to Sweden the deal for me. And again, that tablet tacked on in the centre is my automotive anti-thesis. So thanks, but no thanks. I want to get what iPad for, which is an intuitive infotainment system and some semblance of physical controls in addition to performance and plushness. Which brings us to the German flagbearer for gentlemen enthusiast drivers everywhere.

Porsche Macan

I considered the Porsche Macan too for a hot second or two. How could I not? It had that badge, pretty good dynamics, and it looked appealing to my lizard brain too.

But I would have to forego roti and sell all my kapda, and even then won’t be able to afford this Macan at the prices it was listed at (some 1.1 to 1.2 big ones). And even then, it would get me the base 2 litre engine with some 250 BHP on tap, which represented a sideways step to the 328i from a performance perspective. It was simply crazy money for not that mental a performer, which meant I snapped out of my momentary barminess for the base Macan pretty quickly.

Macan EV

The electric Macan seems a very interesting proposition, and the reviews for that are very good internationally too. But the sticker price for those is even more shock-inducing than that of its ICE cousin. And so, the Porsche dream remains on ice. For now. I will continue to make googly eyes from afar.

BMW M340i

Which brings us squarely to the M340i. Truthfully, how can all roads not lead here? It is the logical choice, after all, what with that brute of an engine, that storied badge, and its dynamics.

Or is it?

[iliketurtles]

Orange you sad this colour isn't available anymore?

For the longest time, when I rubbed my two remaining grey cells together and pondered what my next car would be, mujhe dikhta tha toh bas, M340i, M340i, M340i.

The M340i was the obvious choice for obvious reasons, given I’m a sucker for sadomasochism when it comes to picking cars. SUVs never made it into the discussion (save for that very brief, passionate summer romance where I made googly eyes at the Macan), and suggesting I buy one as my primary car would likely see you excommunicated from my inner circle forever.

As the automotive world and enthusiasts everywhere collectively hurtle towards the end of the ICE age, it would not be amiss to say that high-performance cars as we knew them (fat-tyred, rip-snorting, angry-faced, bellowing beasts) are going the way of the dinosaur. Being sensible and getting high in SUVs is the collective modern-day sensibility in car circles, and it would take a monumental idiot to take a punt on a high-powered automotive anachronism fuelled by dino juice.

I could see myself volunteering to be that idiot, village or urban, very happily.

Truth is, I’ve grown to enjoy the sadomasochism that comes with owning an eager turbo petrol car. It’s like those rich guys that pay extra for the privilege of having the ever lovin’ daylights kicked out of them by a buxom dominatrix, and coming out on the other side of that experience thinking, “wow, I’ve gotta do that again”. Sporty turbo petrols are like that, except they have more oomph, show you a good time for far longer, and cost a lot more money to enjoy. There are arguably more belts involved as well.

The present-day M340i reads beautifully on paper. 380 BHP in as much as it doesn’t matter. An AWD system that’s rear biased, and a handsome visage that flies in the face of modern BMW design trends. And the LCI2 even adds the critical adaptive dampers that make an enormous difference to the way this drives, smoothening out the rough edges in more ways than one.

But the truth is, the M340i in its current avatar is as far removed from the idea of a sports sedan as BMW is from the ethos of everything that made the company great. Packing a spectacular engine that is the equivalent of a nuclear reactor under the bonnet and giving it enough grip to shift entire solar systems does not a sports sedan make.

What of delivering emotion (Joy, even, you might say). There is pleasure to be derived from the finely tuned acoustics of an exhaust, as it was when it was first launched. The earliest versions of the pre-facelift model made my nether regions tingle back in 2020 well into the early months 2021.

Many features have been added and deleted over the years, but I most mourn the loss of that snorting, snarling exhaust it came with from factory. It was all the intoxication one would ever need, and the facelift models progressively traded in sportiness for an extra large dose of sensibility.

As much as it saddens me to say it, since it first launched here, the M340i has become too mature for its own good, with sportiness scrubbed clean from it by the BMW boffins as they swapped out the running shoes for more formal loafers. The 3 series’ idealistic inner child has grown up, become an adult, and taken on responsibilities it once knew not of. And we are all the poorer for it.

I drove an LCI2 a week or so ago, and truth be told the exhaust had all the acoustic appeal of a deep-sea submarine distantly humming away. And it's not just the latest facelift either. Each facelift since that OG monster has seen its inner demon progressively banished to oblivion, becoming increasingly more muted and distant in the process.

Much as it makes me despondent, I must confront the uncomfortable truth. BMW does not aspire to make the “Ultimate Driving Machine” any more than Maruti aspires to make the safest car on the roads. BMW’s recent releases, such as the evolution of the 340i and launch of the new 5’er, are evidence of its move away from enthusiasts, except in true ///M cars. The halcyon days of that BMW secret sauce trickling down into its cheaper models are now seemingly behind us, and all we can do now is look at BMW's greatest hits collection and miss what once was. The end of the ICE age is nigh.

I wish my decision-making process was as simple and devoid of emotion as the wife’s, who shot down the M340i simply because it wasn’t available in orange anymore. I wish I were making this up.

[iliketurtles]

My favourite part of the A35 buying experience was bringing her home.

No, not because I could luxuriate in the warm sensation of seeing her at home, in my parking spot. Not at all. It was because of how my in-laws reacted to me bringing her home. Lord knows I’m not exaggerating when I say I could have brought home a second wife, and they’d have been more welcoming.

As I did with the 328i, the new wheels were a bit of a surprise to at least some in the family (including my poor, unsuspecting in-laws).

My folks, god bless their hearts, know and accept me for the nut job I am. They know I have my peculiarities and peccadilloes, and that recommending a sane, sensible family-minded car to me would fall on deaf ears. They indulge my madness, and I adore them for it.

But when I traded in the 328i for a smaller looking set of wheels, there was no suppressing their inner middle-class values, complete with “log kya kahenge” syndrome.

Picture me, however you do in your mind’s eye, unveiling the A35 triumphantly and asking them what they thought of the Merc. In my mind, there was only one answer I would get,

• Nice
• Very nice
• Wah beta, shaabash
• Congratulations!

Their response, dear reader, was not on the shortlist.

“Lai chhoti nahi hai kai?" (Isn’t it too small?)

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what got my hackles up. Just as you do not ask a lady her age, you do NOT tell a man his package is of questionable size. After all, it’s what you do with it that matters.

Which is why I promptly got into the car, fired it up with one of those AMG emotion starts that I thought would be a good signal of intent. And then, like a loon, I revved the car for a bit to demonstrate to them why this little AMG is more a rorty Rottweiler than a stubby Schnauzer. Because nothing impresses middle-class senior citizens more than a throaty sounding, sporty German vehicle. Or so I thought.

I did not factor in the soft limiter. At all.

Believe me when I tell you that if I could have magically resuscitated any of the great artists of yore, Monet, Rembrandt, Picasso, you name him (or her), none of them would have been able to accurately capture the picture of absolute bewilderment that was writ large on their faces.

It was as if their faces said, “Our daughter married that???”

That is an image that is vividly seared into my memory. The moment I knew their understanding of my constant car-gasms had run out of fuel. As first introductions go, it wasn’t the best of times. But in time, they warmed up to the car, just as they had to me all those years back.

[iliketurtles]

And now, onto the multi-million rupee question. You might be wondering “why” I zeroed in on the A35. Good question, the answer is plain and simple.

Drugs.

No, not the kind you’re thinking of. A different kind. You’re addicted to it too, as hopelessly as I am.

You see, cars are a gateway drug, snaring you hook, line, and sinker with promises of speed, power, and adrenaline.

In fact, there’s a whole cottage industry built around reducing us to helpless junkies. Think back to the die-cast models that you played with as a child, and that full-blown adults still coddle. Or the Fast and Furious flicks that got increasingly absurd, but kept drawing people in by the droves. Or the posters made to adorn walls, and carve places in the halls of our hearts.

Like all addicts, mine leaves me searching for my next hit of dopamine. I hunt for it in every bit of palpable throttle response that's thrown my way. I sit back as it envelops me, the world flying by my head in a blur. I dive deep down the rabbit hole, searching frantically for every last bit of brake bite at the bottom of a pedal. And every time, I get on that rollercoaster promising not to get back on it and behave like a grown up, only to find myself jumping right back in at the first opportunity, eyes agog.

I fear my addiction is too far gone. I relentlessly seek that next rush of adrenaline, that thrill of control, the inexorable gravity of one corner sucking you in and then flinging you back out to the next. It’s a high I never want to come down from. And as all junkies do, I have found my next fix in the A35.

Most marketers will drone on about the importance of the 4P's. In automotive candyland, the 4P's that matter to me are very different, namely Petrol, Practical, Pagal and Phun.

The A35 hits all those touchpoints. Think of it as a high-powered stimulant, automotive viagra fed directly into the veins, and lighting up neural pathways long dormant. What it lacks in cylinders it makes up for in unfettered joy. Surging swells of power throughout the rev range are easily navigated through a feelsome steering, with crisp turn-in and surprising agility that put most other cars in its price band to shame. As gateway drugs go, the A35 is up there with the best of them.

Is it perfect? No. If you're going to play Top Trumps with other everyday performance cars like the 340i, the A35 will comfortably finish second on many counts, particularly on factory horses and pure speed (although this particular one has plenty of poke. More on that later).

But look for the ephemeral and the ineffable, and you'll find it. The A35 has great character and a puppy-dog like eagerness and willingness to just go-go-go that makes it so adorable.

Besides, speed is just a cover story for why we like cars. Speaking for myself, I like them for everything they bring to the table, for better or worse (for even flaws can be admired, as our favourite automotive journalist loves to point out). I love them for the memories they help create. I love them for the annoying quirks and traits that make them almost human.

But perhaps most of all, I love them for their ability to be a gateway drug to worlds known and unknown. And on that front, the Baby AMG excels.

[iliketurtles]

“Bro, 2 liter AMG? Really? Only orange juice and milk comes in 2 liter packages huehuehue”

Congrats on your wholly original joke. And now, grace me with your silence, philistine.

Ignore for a minute the fact that Mercedes chose to badge it an AMG, and they know better than you and me put together. Allow me to show you the error of your ways.

Is the powerplant of the “one man, one engine” variety from Affalterbach? No. But it is an engine on which the skunkworks division have worked their magic and massaged more power out of.

And while the engine isn’t straight outta Affalterbach, the interiors and screens most definitely are, such as the Supersport display from bigger AMG’s, a pair of AMG sports seats, and an AMG flat-bottomed steering wheel nicked from beefier brothers, paired with AMG-specific graphics on the digital instrument panel.

Does it have the same propensity to drift like an A45s? Nope, it doesn’t. It’s locked in to a 50:50 split between the front and rear at best. And while we’re on the topic, some of the A35’s hardware has been lifted from the previous gen CLA45. Not bad underpinnings at all.

But specs tell half the story. Read between the lines, and you'll find that the A35 is much greater than the sum of its parts.

When you step onto the throttle like you just spotted a roach crawling on it, there’s a slight crackle (nothing to do with the aforementioned creepy crawly) and the exhaust gets a bit more throaty, but nothing boorish. This is a Merc, after all.

Like any good performance car, power is stowed away in the upmost reaches of the power band. This is a car that loves being revved hard. And when you want to step on it and really go, it sounds good too, even if some of it is probably augmented by the onboard speakers.

The chassis too is very well-balanced. Sure, it doesn’t have the playfulness on the limit that a RWD car does, but there are no dynamic flaws in this ointment, nor is it lacking for traction.

What it lacks, it more than makes up for in other ways that matters. It’s not nearly as firm, or hyper-aggressive as most sporty cars available in India. Sure, it's firm. But it's very pleasantly al dente and liveable, with the ability to change things up, thanks to its adjustable suspension settings. Long story short, it’s very well-suited to prancing about like a somewhat peaceful puppy in the city until you let it off the leash and ask it to attack the corner.

Is it the rip-snorting AMG of yore? Nope, but then, even the C63 isn't cut from that cloth anymore. Such is the world we now inhabit.

That said, has it put the A in AMG by following the Affalterbach recipe of a fun driving experience, plush interiors, and something that loves to be driven hard? It absolutely has, in my not-at-all unbiased opinion.

It has that three-pointed badge that impresses the neighbours (one stopped talking to me after he saw it. I think it's because his jaw dropped and he forgot to pick it off the floor), with enough turbocharged ferocity to keep faster, pricier cars honest. It is, in the tradition of the best executive sports sedans, humble enough to be a daily driver on weekdays, yet enough of a party animal to let its hair down at the sight of a twisty back road on weekends.

It doesn't have the fire and brimstone of the very best AMGs, but dialling back the nuttiness doesn't mean it puts fun on the back burner. One drive would be enough to dispel those doubts, for the proof of this particular pudding lies in partaking big, greedy bites of its petrol-powered delights.

So you see, while it might be the baby of the lineup, an AMG it most certainly is. And that's all (s)he wrote.

[iliketurtles]

Come away with me

Step inside, and you'll quickly realise why they say Mercedes delivers such a strong feel-good factor and steals a march when it comes to interiors. This is, in my not-at-all biased opinion, one of the very best interiors this side of 70 lakhs.

The elves at Mercedes’ factory were seemingly hard at work nicking everything from everyone as they sought to inject some pizzaz into the interiors.

First up, they dove head first into the parts bin, and came up with generous amounts of (faux, but feel-good) aluminium, which they applied liberally throughout the cabin, as seen in the illuminated air vents (again, nicked from bigger AMGs).

Venti, vidi, vici

But they weren’t quite done. They then turned their attention to the seamstresses, who clutched onto their repertoire of fabrics a little more tightly, but to no avail. The greedy elves stole a few rolls of dinamica from them (alcantara by any other name feels just as nice), and mixed them in with some leather, leftover faux aluminium, and possibly faux leather to create an atmosphere that is at once inviting, comfortable, and unmistakably sporty. Job done, but not quite.

Luxe. Aur Kya?

Having stitched up the seamstresses, and quite happy with their work thus far, the elves were buoyant and in their best impression of the Man in the Sky declared to let there be light. And lo, rivers of light ran through the cabin. Thoughtfully applied, so as to not make it look like the interiors of a falooda shop, the ambient lighting straddles a fine divide between baudy boudoir and modern minimalism near perfectly, in my opinion, making for a grand sight at night.

Let there be light

And so, with the basics in place, the elves set about putting all the major bits and bobs in place. The horizontally positioned infotainment system looks gorgeous and a flick of your finger sees you whiz through the menu options like a hot knife through butter. Dig deeper, and you’ll see the elves (those lovable rascals) grabbed the super sport display from bigger AMGs and a Burmester Surround system from big brother while they were at it, and called it their own. Everyone with a younger sibling knows the feeling.

On the topic of the Burmester, a quick word.

I’m no audiophile, but this Burmester sound system is the cause of many a pleasant eargasm, and puts the Harmon Kardon system in most BMWs to shame. Paired with the ambient lighting, it throws just the right amount of debauchery and excess into the mix, making this a disco on wheels that soundtracks your drive to great effect.

Full disclosure: I forgot to click this pic, so I nicked it from the net

The MBUX system powering it all is slick by appearance and takes a little time to get your head around when you have a moment to reflect upon it. But the truth is that there are way too many ways to control it. You could say it’s a touch too much.

Touchscreen to swipe through it all? You got it boss.

Touchpads on the steering wheel? Sure thing.

I spy, with my little eye, a pair of touchpads on the steering wheel

A weird-ass mouse pad thingy that has little use on the go? Why not!

And just because there aren’t enough control options, there’s voice control too.

When travelling at the kinds of speeds the A35 is capable of (or even city speeds), the dizzying array of options can be overwhelming, and takes some getting used to. I guess the elves could have stolen some common sense and stuffed it into Merc’s engineers, but that would be asking for too much.

The front thrones are comfortable, with innumerable options for personalisation, lumbar, and under-thigh support in addition to memory functions, but I feel the sports seats in BMWs offer better lateral support. Even so, it is comfortable even after hours of driving (I tested it…for science), and it won’t leave you wanting for much more.

That is not something you can say for rear passengers. It’s not as tight as you might think, but it is modest, and a bit of a squeeze after adjusting for my near 6-foot frame. And the boot space is scant too, especially if you throw a space saver tyre into the mix. Space, then, really is the final frontier. But then, that’s why you need a rocket like this to make short work of space, or any perceived lack of it, as you dash off into the horizon, leaving the cackling elves firmly in your rear view mirror.

[iliketurtles]

Hot. Small. Tight. Fast. Attractive. If the thought of that gets you hot and heavy under the collar, just wait till you get into the driver’s seat and thumb the starter button to bring the A35 to life.

On many fronts, they say size matters. But as my wife constantly reassures me as I weep inconsolably, size doesn’t matter. It’s what you make of god’s bounty that does.

And the A35 certainly makes the most of its rorty 4 cylinder, punching well above its weight class, the plucky underdog that dreams. If I had to make an honest approximation of what it’s like to drive, I’d compare it to the compact rally cars that lit up the automotive world at one point. It has this endlessly charming sense of enthusiasm coupled with boundless grip that makes it seem like a throwback to yesteryear.

It marries sensibility and speed effortlessly, thanks to its nimble chassis, short wheelbase, and frankly astonishing front-end grip. It encourages you, goads you to go harder as you hunt for its limits (which are admittedly lofty, and which I haven’t even scratched yet). It’s just absolutely unflappable no matter the road surface, and coaxes you to unleash your inner Colin McRae on any given occasion, even if (given our roads and driving sensibilities) you’d rather be Colin McNay.

The best way I can describe driving this car is to liken it to a child tugging at the seat of your pants, making googly eyes at you and asking you to play with it. That kind of effervescence, joyousness, and innocent enthusiasm is infectious, and it gets the better of you sooner or later.

From factory, the A35’s four-pot puts out about 306 BHP, and the 4matic system ensures you can put all of that power down easily. Just to reinforce the raciness of it all, the good folks at AMG threw in a launch control system, which I’m told is good enough to propel this from 0-60 in about 4.7 seconds. Not that I’ve tested it, mind you.

But I don’t put much stock in keeping things stock, and neither did this car's previous owner. After all, a bit of extra power never hurt anyone. And so, this A35 too has been fettled with a bit even before I got my hands on it. A looney tuner flashed a stage 2 tune on it for the ECU and TCU, and the effect is truly transformative, absolutely discernible with a butt dyno. I’m told it’s good for about 360-370 BHP. I’ll just take their word for it.

Of course, packing that much heat also calls for disposing off the cat, and so a catless downpipe was whacked on. Because if you’re going down a rabbit hole of madness, why not go the extra mile?

With the remap, the difference between the stock car and this one is night and day. The power on tap is wonderfully absurd, with generous dollops of torque ripe for the picking from low down the rev range even in Comfort mode. And those reserves of power, coupled with the surefootedness of the car on the move, masks the sometimes slow-thinking nature of the gearbox, elevating it to the ranks of a B-road bad boy to be seriously reckoned with.

The car offers you a slew of options to tailor the drivetrain to your taste, ranging from the easygoing Comfort mode through to the hair-raising Sports mode, and the hell-raising Sports+ mode. There's also a Slippery mode, which I think I'll use to escape the army of police constables out on the roads trying to earn some extra chai pani.

Just as it is with the drivetrain, you can adjust the suspension’s stiffness too, although why you’d do that in the drudgery of daily traffic and on our astonishingly well-paved roads is beyond me. Just pop it into Comfort, and the ride has a bit of an al dente but liveably firm edge to it. Vertical motion is very well controlled, although it does tend to transmit a great deal of lateral movement into the cabin on the worst of roads and harshest of bumps. On longer journeys, the A35 is a great companion to have, with enough civility or savagery on offer as your mood dictates.

Speaking of savagery, dropping this A35 into Sports Mode sees it become a horny teenager. Which is to say if you so much as look at the throttle slightly lustily, the car responds instantly with a surge of joy, thanks to the tune and catless downpipe. Much like any red-blooded teenager would. It’s not crazy fast either, thanks to the AWD system allowing one to put down the power almost all the time.

If anything, it transforms the angry pup into a rorty Rottweiler. Angry, but capable of being kept on a tight leash in the right hands. I have dug deep, but not yet found the cojones to drop it into Sports+ on a regular basis. I'm not quite that mad.

Simply, the A35 is a lush sports compact with a very high performance envelop for a daily runabout. It’s a low-hanging fruit from the Benz's skunkworks division that’s meant to be Mercedes' manna, a lifestyle drug that hooks you and reels you in before you know it.

If you get your kicks from going quick, and want to play at being grown-up while still retaining a semblance of child-like joy, the duality of the A35 as a lap dog or attack puppy is intoxicating. Granted, it’s the road less taken and often ignored, but sometimes, taking the path less travelled makes all the difference.

[iliketurtles]

Of course, no car on the market today is complete without throwing something weird or wonderful into the mix, and the A35 is no different.

It has a weird mouse thingymabob that can be used to rest your hand on while you use the touchpad. Bro, why even?

The car is programmed to be a real scaredy cat. All the sensors start screaming bloody murder if anyone so much as stares at the car out of the corner of their eye. You can only imagine how it gets in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Very anxiety inducing.

I will admit Automatic Emergency Braking saved my ass one time when the car ahead had to brake hard to avoid the guy in front of him who had to avoid the guy in front of him. Yeh hai India, meri jaan.

The dual touchpads on the steering wheel takes some getting used to, but very useful once you get the hang of it.

Speaking of which, I love the modified steering wheel, featuring Carbon Fibre and Alcantara. Feels really premium and great to hold.

There are too many ways to set up the dash, which can be…quite a process. But I’ve finally zeroed in on my preferred setup. For now.

But personalisation has its upside too, such as dropping the car into attack puppy mode, while leaving the suspension in lazy dog mode

The eye-catching ambient lighting transforms the interiors into an upscale bar once the sun dips below the horizon.

So annoying that CarPlay doesn’t fill the full screen. It’s as if Mercedes began coding it in and then halfway through said “meh’, and just walked away.

I do like the red seatbelts. Very racy, very tasty, a nice splash of colour in an elegant cabin on the whole.

I do like the AMG branding on the calipers. Screams intent without being shouty.

As well, I appreciate the derriere of this car. Love the subtle dual tip exhaust and diffuser from factory. Danke, Mercedes

[iliketurtles]

If it seems to you (as it does to me) as if the ICE age of automotive extinction is upon us, that's because it is, as an electric asteroid hurtles towards us.

In fact, cars like the A35 are potent symbols of this imminent devastation. It was one of only two ICE 300+ BHP performance sedans available for 1 crore or less (although you can get more than a fistful of 300+ BHP EVs in a variety of shapes and forms), and it too faced the ignominy of the chopping block.

AMG has already begun its pathway to electrification, seen best (!!) in the C43 and C63 that lean heavily on trying to capture lightning in a bottle, and the day isn’t far when fun ICE cars are firmly in our rearview mirror, a dead genre to be mourned by the chosen few. I appreciate the relentless march of progress, but the tune on repeat sounds suspiciously like the Imperial March to my ears.

This contraction of the fun corner of the market is distressing, but can you blame carmakers? Leave aside the mango junta; when even enthusiasts on don't flock to the funvee's, can you blame auto manufacturers for making ho-humvee's? With prices becoming stratospheric, can you blame the average enthu cutlet for siding with that safe crossover or a hatchback on stilts, in a market that didn't even allow the Polo a second innings?

"Enough pontification, Einstein. What's the answer, then?", I hear you ask.

My rejoinder to that is the same one I've always espoused; to double down on Joy. Cars to compel you to stop going with SUVs, or sidling with hatchbacks on stilts that masquerade as high-slung machines. The success of the 340i (in any of its many avatars over the years) is ample proof that there is joy to be had in cars you can bond with, that inspire a surge of dopamine every time you dive deep into the throttle. And yet, for every 340i, there are the joyous right-field choices that were left by the wayside, like this A35.

Make no mistake. The AMG A35 is akin to an unsung hero who will be fully appreciated only posthumously. When cars of this ilk become rare - and they absolutely will - a bigger deal will be made of them.

A 300 BHP mini-AMG priced at about 70 lakhs on-road (when new) that offers stealthy, quietly stylish speed, and a genuinely potent cocktail made of equal parts brio and bravado should have been a slam-dunk. It was, instead, just a non.

A non-starter, thanks to its size and price.

As a consequence, a non-presence on most shopping lists.

And from there, shuffling into being a non-mentionable for most automotive outlets.

And so, it slid into that most cruel of fates; non-relevance.

In a world where the future of the sedan seems numbered, the pint-sized A35 never stood a chance. Diminutive luxury hot rods never do well on our sunny shores in any case. Instead, buyers develop large hadrons for SUVs the size of supercolliders, from where they look down at those racing towards the horizon down low.

If I could gather India's automakers in one room, I would simply tell them this; create a compelling proposition, packed with features, a strong value proposition, and joy. It can exist as a hot hatch, a four-door sedan, or even a (much as I hate to say it) coupé-SUV. If you build it, the ranks of zealots and enthusiasts will come to its siren call. The market will always find its way to you. Otherwise fun cars will simply go the way of the dodo before we know it. Theirs is a dying breed in any case.

I truly believe, with every fiber in my being, that the cars that survive this great automotive culling we're witnessing unfold will be the fun ones. The ones that spark joy within. The ones that tug at your heart strings. And I'm certain that even as they ride off into the sunset, they're the ones that'll make us feel alive or die trying.

I would certainly consider the A35 to be in that bracket, giving me that fuzzy, unmistakable feeling of joy every time I head out for a shopping run, or just run for the hills. I hope you've found your little slice of joy, as I have, and that it keeps you feeling warm and cosy on the inside as the aforementioned asteroid charges towards us. Sometimes, it's the little things in life that matter. And German pocket rockets certainly fall in that bracket. After all, what is love but a dirty four-letter word?

[iliketurtles]

It's so strange how fate works, and even curiouser how human beings work.

My first tryst with the A35 came when a dear friend, then considering purchasing it, had me follow him along to Aamby Valley. Because those that worship at the altar of speed must visit its temple every now and then.

I don't fully know why he sought to have me tag along. Maybe he valued my opinion. Most likely not. But I suspect it's because he wanted validation of the idea that this 2 liter AMG was a hoot to drive, and that he wasn't losing his marbles.

Like him, and several others before him, I took walked in wondering "why even bother". That opinion changed in the first 200 meters, when its eagerness to go and mature damping took me by surprise. That, coupled with the plush cabin and the bangin' stereo, sold me on the package, and I knew I would give him my blessing to pick it up. And so the fates were set in motion.

By the time I was at the bottom of the valley, waiting to give the go-ahead to my friend (who was nowhere in sight), I decided to gun it and drive for another kilometer or so just so I could spend more time with her. If that's not love at first sight, I don't know what is.

Present and Past

And now, as a reward for you putting up with my rambling ruminations thus far, here are some pics for your viewing pleasure. This is, but the start of what I hope to be a fun thread, and I look forward to bringing the party to a screen near you. Ciao ciao!

[Aditya]

Thread moved out from the Assembly Line. Thanks for sharing!

[sauravpat]

Absolutely delightful writing! Made my half hour train journey zip by whilst bringing back memories of reading Jeremy Clarkson as a teenager flooding back. Wishing you tons of fun in your pocket rocket!