The title sounds like a cliche, doesn't it? Even I think so. Sadly, my creativity's short-selling me today. Besides, how do you tell someone that you drove over a very long distance, on a highway of course. Yup! It sounds lame.
You can't technically be in my line of work if you can't drive properly. Driving people crazy doesn't count. I wish it did. Then I could ask for a very dramatic hike in pay. The sort of pay-hike that you cannot imagine. But yes, I'm not a very good driver. And I'm probably the first man to admit that.
My dad's good behind the wheel. Good enough to put 99% of Indian drivers to shame. Not that he can do mind-boggling stunts in a car. Maybe he can. I don't know his wild side, which kind of sucks. You don't really know your parents, do you? They have lived a good 2-3 decades before you could even take a shit in the world. A topic for another blog post, perhaps.
Yeah, my ace driver dad lets me trot around in the car. Nowadays, a little more, thanks to my job description. So today morning, he handed me the keys and told me... "Let's go for a long fucking drive, kid!"
Okay, he didn't say that. He did not use the word "Fucking", and he wasn't exactly enthusiastic about I being at the helm of affairs for a distance of over 150 kilometers, that between Bombay and Pune. Especially since he'd be sitting in the passenger seat. I half-chuckled to myself, and half-shat in my pants. Whatever else was left of me said "Let's do this shit!" Mathematically, that can't even happen, you know?
So off we were. My mom sitting in the back seat, my dad by my side, and I commandeering the er... vessel. Let's not get overtly dramatic. My mom has blood pressure issues. My dad is the don't-angry-me-types. I seemingly have issues too. I told this girl I'm wooing that she looks sexy. And that's what she said.
Back to driving. I went about doing hand-brake turns, driving my dad bat-shit crazy, the car close to the edge of the road, and my mom to the prayer room. Only that I didn't do the first bit about the handbrake turns.
The city was fine, the highways were cool. Overtaking felt better than well, a lot of things, to subtly put it. My dad turned on the music. Indian songs, I tell you. The first thing, actually the only thing they do is put your romantic interest right in front of your face. That's a good thing. Mine's got good boobs. If this female I'm talking about reads this, here's what I'm going to get in true-blue 1960s Batman style....
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Where was I? Oh yes, Hindi songs. Bad idea when you're driving. Another bad idea for songs in the car are ghazals. They put you to sleep. Agreed they are lyrically very intellectual to listen to. But that sort of stuff is best kept for times when you want to go to sleep. Because that's what ghazals do. They put you to sleep.
On a second thought, Adam West, the 1960s Batman had puny arms. No?
I crossed the city, I crossed the long straights, and came to the bloody ghats. Then, I STALLED! Thrice. Devastation. Again. Well, not exactly. My dad took over for the next 20 kilometers. Even he stalled once. Phew!
In those 20 kilometers, I sat behind, thinking. Thinking about all the cars that went past me. Damn! We are living in the past! As in, humans made the internal combustion engine over a hundred years ago, the stuff that powers cars. Cars are a ruddy old concept. And fundamentally, the car hasn't changed one bit. Yes, we can plug our phones into our cars. We can make them go bloody fast. But save for the pure-electric ones, all our cars are still four-wheeled contraptions that rely on a constant set of explosions under the bonnet to move us from point A to point B. Literally no change in technology. Don't even bother arguing that we have made the engine more efficient.
Here's what I think. We stay as we are because of our unwillingness to change. This is as true for cars as is for humans. Big car makers can possibly influence how a country runs, merely with their clout. Not just car makers. Take 10 brands you use in a day. Most of them can be traced back to 2-3 conglomerates.
Here's the deal. The bigger you get, the more sluggish and stagnant you become. And so, if we are looking to develop, bigger is not necessarily better. It's the small places that hold the secret to the future. The big guys just clog the arteries and leave you to die.
With that thought, my dad's 20 kilometer stretch came to an end. If it hadn't, I'd have been tripping balls. But then again, you either trip balls, or don't trip at all. And now, reports from the driver seat!
I was back on the straights! And I fucking floored it. Till I got to 120kph, that is. My dad's a little apprehensive about high-speeds. No problem. His car, his apprehensions. So, I kept things south of 120. And he remained happy. And I drove all the way home. Brilliant. *Ting*
Enjoyable drive. Cute female in my head. Weird ideas about the future. Cute female in my head. Sexy Santa, would you be my girlfriend?
You can't technically be in my line of work if you can't drive properly. Driving people crazy doesn't count. I wish it did. Then I could ask for a very dramatic hike in pay. The sort of pay-hike that you cannot imagine. But yes, I'm not a very good driver. And I'm probably the first man to admit that.
My dad's good behind the wheel. Good enough to put 99% of Indian drivers to shame. Not that he can do mind-boggling stunts in a car. Maybe he can. I don't know his wild side, which kind of sucks. You don't really know your parents, do you? They have lived a good 2-3 decades before you could even take a shit in the world. A topic for another blog post, perhaps.
Yeah, my ace driver dad lets me trot around in the car. Nowadays, a little more, thanks to my job description. So today morning, he handed me the keys and told me... "Let's go for a long fucking drive, kid!"
Okay, he didn't say that. He did not use the word "Fucking", and he wasn't exactly enthusiastic about I being at the helm of affairs for a distance of over 150 kilometers, that between Bombay and Pune. Especially since he'd be sitting in the passenger seat. I half-chuckled to myself, and half-shat in my pants. Whatever else was left of me said "Let's do this shit!" Mathematically, that can't even happen, you know?
So off we were. My mom sitting in the back seat, my dad by my side, and I commandeering the er... vessel. Let's not get overtly dramatic. My mom has blood pressure issues. My dad is the don't-angry-me-types. I seemingly have issues too. I told this girl I'm wooing that she looks sexy. And that's what she said.
"You have issues. :p"Devastated! You never know what to tell women. I mean, I don't.
Back to driving. I went about doing hand-brake turns, driving my dad bat-shit crazy, the car close to the edge of the road, and my mom to the prayer room. Only that I didn't do the first bit about the handbrake turns.
The city was fine, the highways were cool. Overtaking felt better than well, a lot of things, to subtly put it. My dad turned on the music. Indian songs, I tell you. The first thing, actually the only thing they do is put your romantic interest right in front of your face. That's a good thing. Mine's got good boobs. If this female I'm talking about reads this, here's what I'm going to get in true-blue 1960s Batman style....
Where was I? Oh yes, Hindi songs. Bad idea when you're driving. Another bad idea for songs in the car are ghazals. They put you to sleep. Agreed they are lyrically very intellectual to listen to. But that sort of stuff is best kept for times when you want to go to sleep. Because that's what ghazals do. They put you to sleep.
On a second thought, Adam West, the 1960s Batman had puny arms. No?
I crossed the city, I crossed the long straights, and came to the bloody ghats. Then, I STALLED! Thrice. Devastation. Again. Well, not exactly. My dad took over for the next 20 kilometers. Even he stalled once. Phew!
In those 20 kilometers, I sat behind, thinking. Thinking about all the cars that went past me. Damn! We are living in the past! As in, humans made the internal combustion engine over a hundred years ago, the stuff that powers cars. Cars are a ruddy old concept. And fundamentally, the car hasn't changed one bit. Yes, we can plug our phones into our cars. We can make them go bloody fast. But save for the pure-electric ones, all our cars are still four-wheeled contraptions that rely on a constant set of explosions under the bonnet to move us from point A to point B. Literally no change in technology. Don't even bother arguing that we have made the engine more efficient.
Here's what I think. We stay as we are because of our unwillingness to change. This is as true for cars as is for humans. Big car makers can possibly influence how a country runs, merely with their clout. Not just car makers. Take 10 brands you use in a day. Most of them can be traced back to 2-3 conglomerates.
Here's the deal. The bigger you get, the more sluggish and stagnant you become. And so, if we are looking to develop, bigger is not necessarily better. It's the small places that hold the secret to the future. The big guys just clog the arteries and leave you to die.
With that thought, my dad's 20 kilometer stretch came to an end. If it hadn't, I'd have been tripping balls. But then again, you either trip balls, or don't trip at all. And now, reports from the driver seat!
I was back on the straights! And I fucking floored it. Till I got to 120kph, that is. My dad's a little apprehensive about high-speeds. No problem. His car, his apprehensions. So, I kept things south of 120. And he remained happy. And I drove all the way home. Brilliant. *Ting*
Enjoyable drive. Cute female in my head. Weird ideas about the future. Cute female in my head. Sexy Santa, would you be my girlfriend?
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