HOT WHEELS!!!

It was a wooden house in the cut of a hill,part of a long line of houses that were separated by wooden panels.We were in the hills because we were part of the gang that moved along with all the trucks carrying our whole house in boxes across the country ,the only permanent members to be added to our quartet over the years were Our dogs,Sheena the first one and Tuffy(who should have been ideally stuffy because he could stuff into his little stomach almost any cuisine under the sun,not to be discriminating against the one that’s piled in bins as well,were he ever to get a chance.)Tuffy was Sheena’s child marriage off spring,they were Pomeranian Spitz(or so we were told),got basically as yelping guard dogs but like i said Tuffy dreamt of food while snoring,Sheen was the only one who had grains of sherpa blood in her.

 Our mini circus moved every two years,lock stock and the snoring and guard dog's duvet’s in barrels.

In the wooden house My brother and I had our bed bunks alongside, where when tucked in at night we would pretend to be floating in a river within egg shells,that bounced off the crests in the river.

I remember I used to squeeze my mother's hand and make a good night mumble (ta!! dare you laugh) then burrow my nose,into the quilt to sniff the smell of Napthelene in my cotton stuffed quilt,the quilt had a fawn velvety cover,and there were dark brown trees drawn on it.I loved burying under and pretending to be in a different world,And now I cannot even bear the weight of my feather quilt,which finds my feet wrapped over it.

I remember a lot of things from that house,I was five.I remember standing around trying to figure out what the excitement was all about,maybe someone told me or maybe my mom got too busy baking the cake, whichever was the correct case,I found my self standing in the welcoming committee lineup as the blue little four wheeled drive rolled up the slopes,to brake in front of us, our very own car.A car that took me on a three hour drive to buy my wedding lehenga, a Car in which I sat and took my first dog for a vaccination, a car in which Tuffy was taken for his last few examinations.

So yes ,basically the car also trundled  along with our circus,and when it got a few marks on its ceilings we bandaged and camouflaged it with stickers.Always,proudly roaming in it where no man has rolled before.(okay enough of star trek,but there were hardly any cars then on roads,you cannot blame me for my flights of fantasy,in my blue shuttle.)

And years later, even after we left Sheena and Tuffy as underground guards of the houses we homed in,the little blue stately wagon car of our family continued along faithfully.

I can safely say that this year that car went out of production.

we have become heartless or maybe there are hard walls around our slumbering hearts,we keep noticing  his coughs,noticing the lack of airconditioning  in the sweltering sun. However there is still one guy who stands by his wagon,the head of our travelling circus,My dad.

He takes ‘sabun dani’,(soap dish) as we lovingly call him to his doctor for regular patch ups,my father stands in the heat,hovering over it like a worried parent.If it were to be recorded , maybe every part under its bonnet has been under the mechanic’s concerned gaze at least twice in its life,for reasons more severe than regular servicing.

I am as loyal as they come,when it comes to people, I am a dog when it comes to loyalty,you can probably just love me once and I will always wag my tail with joy when I see you next,for the rest of your life,whether you are in it for a guest appearance or in the leading roles.

But I also suffer from the he dunnit not me syndrome.So placing the blame squarely on advertising,YESSS!!! it’s the advertising which makes me continuously unfaithful.Its unfair how they actually throw cars luscious curves at you challenging you to be young and free, I always have my hands on my cheque book and my feet pointed to the loan department in the bank after seeing ten close friends camping in Leh!!!!!!! See you know what I mean.

There are enticing sunroofs in cars,where I always imagine just lounging back and looking at the night sky(its too hot to imagine me staring up into a sunny sky,so I settle for a starry night dream),there is voice control which reminds me of Knight rider,climate control that simulates airplanes,basically one day I am Living it up in My SUV the other day in my sleeky cury ,showing me the moon,BMW(I am dreaming, here I should punch myself)

Hence the inference that when it comes to cars it strikes me that I am blatantly fickle and shallow around the pocket area. (I am open to negotiations on donations.)

Switching gears back a few car generations when we come back home now,we have to still roll down our windows,using both hands and keep our face out like dogs hanging out excitedly,only in our cases it’s the green house effect that is pushing us into the flapping air whooshing along outside the car.

Its doors close with a BANG,almost as if the old boy is hard of hearing and needs the loud reassurance that all is well at the back and we can key in , gear up and accelerate out.

But every single time I plop into the back seat,I remember touching the small window railings ,as we drove out of towns leaving friends behind, Every time I slide into the front seat I remember sitting on one butt cheek with both feet sleeping from inactivity,  folded and confined,dreaming about their next stretch, sharing the space with my grandfather,who would lovingly ask me every two minutes if I was alright,and I would say yes,much to the relief of the backseaters,who included my largely present grandmom,mom,brother and my aunt,on whose laps I would definitely be transferred to, were the answer to be negative.They were all already strategically lined up in the one to the front, one to the rear,and the one on the flanks turned slightly towards doors, position.Guaranteeing maximum fit,with mini comfort pockets, packed like this  we drove some mad distance away, I am sure at this stage someone did mention the ‘dil mein jagah honi chahiye!!”(eyes rolling totally dramatically)

 The feel of my grandfather lovingly petting my hair,and the continuous gossip from the back row,the wind as it blew through my father's then black hair as he concentrated on the road, these memories can never be unlocked were I to step out tomorrow of a MERCEDES(For a jaguar I swear I will try my level best to simulate,just hold on to the thought of gifting me one, we will come back to that.)

These feelings make this car a bonafide member of the gang and anyone who has ever owned a Maruti 800 would know which era I am talking about.Yes we grew up in the same decade,secretly watching Bold and the Beautiful,admiring the suave Mr.Remington Steele and openly ogling at babes in Baywatch slightly later.

The world may be churning out 90 lakh cars a year, maybe more,but there will only ever be one car that will be family to me. Thank you for being there,and even though today there is Cherry, Elvis(the hatchback of my independent life) and Black Beauty lining the drive way in front of you, I promise to LOVE YOU forever,and there is nothing fickle or shallow about that declaration.

And no amount of advertising can erase and rewrite over that bond with my first car.Sorry Elvis.