My wheels - I

I have always been a sucker for speed and adventure. The speedier, the better. But I have hardly been able to enjoy my kind of speed (which is, ahem, a bit too much for the regular drivers), as my father and fiancé both are ardent believers in safe-and-slow mode of driving. I remember shouting 'faster, faster' while we were travelling in my Dad's old Lamby. It was the first vehicle owned by my family. I guess it had completed some 30 years of glorious service, before being stolen by some unknown thief, off the Thrissur Round parking lot. Well, I could not fathom what his intentions were; to keep it in some museum displaying obsolete models or to strip off the parts and sell the metal. Whatever it may be, the fact remains that the entire family mourned for days as if a member was lost. Lamby was more like a child to my father, considering the fact that he used to spend more time pampering it than his daughters.

Back then, I considered it very ugly; it was of a dull grey colour and emitted an ear-splitting start-up groan. It had a spare tire fastened horizontally after the pillion seat, which gave the scooter a very longish appearance. I used to envy the Bajaj Chetak, which had the spare tire placed vertically, like protectively cushioning the pillion rider. But my father would never trade Lamby for Chetak. So it remained the pride of the family till Maruti arrived in 2001. Till I was 8 or 9 years of age, I used to stand in front of my father who would be riding. Pillion was reserved for my mother and sister. As I grew older (and longer), I started obstructing his view and was promoted (!!!) to the pillion.

Our Lamby carried a dubious distinction of being responsive only to my father, in the sense that it was virtually impossible for an outsider to start the scooter. My relatives, neighbourhood uncles and even some mechanics were left wide-eyed by this phenomenon. Once my uncle wanted to take out the scooter to go to town, as his own scooter was under repair. Father was out of station at that time. Poor man, he kicked and shook the vehicle countless times, without any positive response. It just wouldn't start. Not so much as whirring of the engine. Cursing his luck (and the scooter), he had to leave defeated. But when father tried to start it after coming back, the devil obliged without any resistance. Everyone, including my uncle, was left dumbfounded. Nevertheless, my father was consistently pressurised by the men folk to get a new scooter, which would at least be accessible to all. But, as I mentioned before, Lamby's undisputed reign over my father was not to be disrupted.

As me and my sister grew up, Lamby would no longer suffice as the preferred mode of family transportation. Along with that, it was physically exhaustive for my father to ride the scooter, especially with heavy pillion riders. So no choice was left for him other than to buy a car. That was when she came to our life, the beauty with aquamarine blue eyes..