It’s almost 1700 hrs when we reach Thol. We buy the tickets. Apparently it costs more, but my friend just handed over a 100 Rs not and we three were in alongwith the Car. From the Entry to the lakebed is a winding and crooked path laden with the Baval trees (Acacia Arabica). It’s just beautiful.
I maneuver the car in between those trees and we reach a plain land spread over a few acres. The lake is full at some places while the rest of the land just lies there, and is used to grow vegetation by the nearby villagers. It is also used a grazing ground.
Our idea is to take the car as close to the lake as possible so that we can get some greats shots of the car with the Green cover, the lake and the birds in the background.
At some places, the villagers have dug out small trenches to get the water from the lake to the fields. On our lake to the lakebed, we encounter a trench. It was a bit wide so I take the car a bit farther to cross it where it narrows down. Vinu instructs me not to slow down the car and just maintain a constant speed. Nevertheless, I ignore his advice as I am unsure about the depth of the trench as it filled with water. If it turns out to be deep, the suspension will go for a toss and the underbody too.
I downshift to the first gear and slowly try to cross the trench, the car descents a bit and I am thinking “This is not that deep”. I accelerate a bit to cross, and well, we are still there. Damn!
I steer a bit and then accelerate a bit more, and the left front tyre just keeps rotating and there’s slimy mud all over the car. I look on in surprise.
Vinu alights and checks out the front tyres. They aren’t down, that deep. I once again put the car in 1st gear and accelerate, no luck, the front tyre just kept on sinking more. More than worried, I was a bit excited.
‘Wow, this is the first time this has happened to me. Getting the car out will be fun’
I check out the situation. Both the front tyres are almost 5-6 inches down in a small trench. The rear right tyre is also almost 3-4 inches down in the wet ground. “This is gonna be easy yaar”, I say to myself. We just need the tyres to get some traction.
Vinu starts hunting fro some stones that can be placed beneath the tyres and I decide to chill out a bit and take in the moment. Arun keeps on blabbering about the FIFA matches he might miss.
I look around. There are birds, perched around the lake. The plain ground is vast. Some kids are out with the cattle to graze. It’s a bit cloudy and in short, it’s pleasant. Aaah, this is life!
After about 10 minutes, Vinu is back. He just got a few stones, the land is devoid of stones of any kind; just wet, slimy mud. In the meantime, the kids who are out to graze the cattle come over. They are giggling and enjoying this. This is what they might be thinking.
‘3 city people come in a flashy new vehicle and driving straight into a muddy pit. What a bunch of Morons!’
Anyways, we try to stick the stones below the front left tyre and try to accelerate the car. No luck. The mud is almost all over the vehicle now. Damn. Water fills in the pit and it gets slimier. Zero traction. Vinu’s clothes are all messed up with the mud and slime.
Arun, who had undergone an operation in his right hand couldn’t help. So I asked him to get some pics instead of the car stuck in the mud.
Plan A failed, so we decide to go for Plan B; ask for help from the villagers. We walked over to the houses a few hundred metres away and asked for some wooden planks and maybe a spade. And the guy’s attitude appalled us. He did not care what happened to us. He refused to give the wooden plank saying that it was used in his house (though it was lying around in the yard). Anyways, we had seen a spade on our way in to his farm and so we asked for it. He agreed hesitantly and we walked back with the spade and a few logs.
The number of spectators had now increased from 2 to almost 9. One kid asked for the spade and started digging away near the front tyre without us asking him to do anything. He boasted ‘Aisi kitni gaadiya nikal ke di he maine, akele’. We dug the area around the front tyre and pushed the log beneath it. Once again we tried, NO LUCK. We tried almost every way, but in vain. We even tried pushing the car, but it wouldn’t budge.
In the process of digging the earth below the front tyre, the kid hit the bumper a few times and I asked him to back off. We also tried to place the log just behind the front tyre and lift it a bit to place some stones and logs beneath it, but it just created a glaring dent and nothing else.
Running out of options, I decided to call for help. It was already 18:45. I called in the Manager at Cargo Motors and explained him the situation. He in turn gave me some guy, Dharmesh’s number and assured me that he would help. My phone’s Airtel Network was giving away. Lucky for us my friend had a BSNL connection that works in the most unexpected places.
Dharmesh heard the complete problem and gave me the toll free number. I called in and reported about my Punto being stuck in the outskirts of Ahmedabad, in a village. Some guy in a weird accent tried to understand. He asked for the registration number of my car, a moment’s silence, “Sir ye gaadi ka information to hamare computer me reflect nahi ho raha”! And I was aghast!
I asked him, how can that be?! He had no idea. Next, he asked the date of purchase and the chassis number. And I was furious. Luckily, I was having the documents of the car and blurted out the chassis number.
Another moment of silence!
“Sir, ek toll free number deta hu uspe call kijiye”
I asked, “Kyu? Ek aur toll free number?”
“Sir, aapki gaadi Punto he na, isliye”
Me, “Punto he to kya?”
The guy, “Punto Fiat ka he, Ye TATA ka helpline he”
And I was seething with anger. I took down the number and called in. This time a lady answers, Neelam.
I tell her about the issue, she confirms the registration number, DOP, my contact number and asks me to hold on while she connects to a Tow-away service in Ahmedabad.
A moment of silence…
After a couple of minutes, the line comes alive.
“Sir, I have a towing service personnel in conference. Please give him the directions.”
The guy was probably pissed off that I had called in at this hour, 1900 hrs. It takes a couple of mins for me to get him the exact location. Then he says
“Thik he. Me aata hu Sarkhej se. Thoda time lagega”
I said, “Time bole to kitna?”
He says, ‘1 ghanta to lagega Boss. Crane bhejunga’
Me: ‘1 ghanta to bahut late hoga yaar. 8 baje aaoge? Yaha pe hum lake pe fase he. Andhera ho raha he’
He says, “Time to lagega. 8-8.30 ke aaspaas aa jaenge”
I was aghast!
“And yeah, one more thing” he adds “We will not be responsible for any damage to your car”
Me: “What damage?”
“We will be using a crane. So the bumper may be damaged. It may also come off. So we won’t be responsible. If you agree, we will come”
What other option do I have here?! I was shaken. I asked him to come. He disconnected and the lady at other end told me that she would give the driver my number and be in touch. Who cares?! Damn!
A new problem arises, the kids keep on pestering us for money. I told them to help me get out the vehicle. They tell me that a Tractor from the nearby village can pull us out but that will cost me 1000 Rs apart from the tip to them.
Blatant extortion I say.
The village they were referring to was a bit far and they did not have any contact numbers. The kids agreed to go and call them for a few hundred bucks, but I was not going to give into such blackmail.
It was already 19:15 and getting dark. Suddenly Arun had an idea. As he in touch with a few other professional photographers who come here to shoot, one of them had put up a Local’s number on his Facebook account for any kind of help in Thol.
He sends a sms and we receive a number within a few minutes with the name Lilabhai.
I connect him and explain him the situation. He asks me where am I stuck? I explain him the directions. He listens patiently and the say, ‘I am already home, but I will come’.
Thank God.
I ask, ‘Thanks. How long will it take to reach here?’
He says, ’10 minutes. I will bring a Tractor along to tow the vehicle out’. I was ecstatic. I thank him profusely and we light our last cigarette. Finally, we will be out. The children didn’t seem to take it quite well. They were disappointed as now they won’t be able to extort from us.
I call back the Fiaat helpline and ask the operator to cancel the towing service request explaining him the issue. They readily do that and ask to call back if it does not work out.
After 15 mins and at 1925 hrs, we hear a roar at a distance. There some light too.
Hurray, it’s the Tractor. There are 4 teenagers on it and they are driving it at a menacingly high speed. They take it menacingly close to the car and stop right in front of it. They inspect the situation.
Lilabhai also joins in. Unlike other cars, Punto has a hole in the front where the towing van can attach their rope. These guys have the rope, but no idea about the clamp that can be screwed in and then tied to the rope. They are confused. They check the car from all the sides. No other hooks.
It’s getting dark and I am getting worried.
Finally, one of them asks me for the toolbox and VIOLA, the clamp is in there. Thank God.
The clamp is screwed in, the rope fastened, I get in the car and they pull. One pull and we are out!
Sigh of relief!
They tow us to some dry land. The kids slowly head back home with the spade murmuring. But this service does not come free. I had to shell out 500 Rs for it. Anyways, the best part was that we were free.
Lilabhai guided us to a spot closer to the lake where we could wash of all the dirt from the car. It was dark and already 2000 hrs. Lilabhai is actually the caretaker of the lake and stays nearby. He helps us wash off the dirt and stays with us till we start back.
We thank him profusely and finally head back towards home tired, battered, soiled, pennyless and a glaring dent on the bottom, just behind the right front tyre and a few scratched on the front bumper.
This trip turned out to be more picturesque than I wished it to be. Damn. We managed to click some pics too for you guys to partake in. Till next time, Adios!
Regards,
tOm!