Let me start by wishing everyone a very Merry Christmas. Here’s hoping that you did not return the gifts that you got.
I spent many hours trying to figure out what my second blog post would be. I explored topics ranging from corruption to cheese cakes, but could not narrow it down to that ‘one’ topic which would make me go – Aha! I was ready to spend another week thinking about it when I was reminded of a very special relationship; one that was very expensive, but something that I will cherish for many many years.
I did not know her name or what she was going to be like when I first met her. I was nervous, yet very excited as my family and I drove over to her place. When we reached our destination, I could see her standing at the entrance without a care in the world. Her sparkly eyes, curvy body and slight smile convinced me that she was the one. We decided to bring her back home with us the next weekend, though I would have loved to take her home that very day. It was going to be a long week.
It felt good to hold her as we drove home on that blurry, smoggy December 09 night. Sitting snugly in her lap and listening to her voice, I knew I had made the right choice. We were very compatible- we both liked the same kind of music, hanging out with friends and most of all long drives. What I did not know was that she had a drinking problem.
Thirstie Drinks-a-lot was my first car - a silver Ford Ikon with a large 1300 cc heart that would never tire. For over three years and 60,000 kilometers Thirstie and I had a lot of fun. Trips with family and friends, dealing with Bangalore’s packed roads, scaring people at traffic signals by singing along to Maiden and Metallica or getting away from crazed psychopaths on the Bangalore-Chennai highway were all a part of the “I pay – you drink” relationship that I shared with my car.
It’s not very difficult to explain this bond that I shared with Thirstie. The car was an extension of me and I felt at home every time I sat in the driver’s seat. I could be Michael Schumacher in a Ferrari (don’t like him so much at Mercedes) or star in my own rock video when I was behind that wheel. It did not matter whether it was a 30 minute commute to work or a five hour drive to Chennai, the car became my den, my space. Surprisingly Thirstie also taught me about relationships – don’t take your partner for granted and invest in regular service… I mean invest in the relationship to get the most out of it.
This March we had to say good bye to Thirstie Drinks-a-lot, largely because of the enormous bills that Ford presented to me at each service and of course her drinking problem. The day I had to hand over the keys I drove so slowly that senior citizens with walkers whizzed past me. It felt weird as I locked the door for the last time and heard her go ‘bleep bleep’; that day even the ‘bleep bleep’ sounded sad (or the battery could have been weak). I walked away from Thirstie wondering if I would ever see her again, if she would find someone else who loved her as much as I did and more importantly if I would get an auto to Banaswadi.
In all honesty I miss the car very much. Memories of all the fun times are still fresh. Each time I see a silver Ikon I wonder if it is her.
On March 12, 2011, we took delivery of Iyenkaar, a beautiful blonde from the Maruti Gharana (let not the male sounding name fool you for car is definitely a She – just listen to the way she purrs). It’s been nine months; we have worked on the relationship and had a little bit of fun. Iyenkaar is definitively not Thirstie (it’s not that I get more mileage now), she is refined and likes to be treated nicely and I am still figuring out how to do that. I am sure that over the next few EMIs I will be able to build a bond with her as well.
Happy tripping!