I initially scribbled this post with a bleeding hand and a sprained shoulder along with recurring shooting pain in my left rib every 30 seconds. But as usual my internet connection ditched me at 2.30 in the night and the piece was resigned to the desktop to be posted at leisure. But a chanced reading next day of a column in LA Times pushed me to get back to the post and pay my rich tributes to the automobile which, though, decorated with the derogatory title of being “a pug-nosed, bug-eyed, stodgy classic fixture on India’s potholed roads” saved my life!
The office cab ferrying me home at 1 am was waiting for the signal to turn green at a west Delhi red light and as usual I was playing sms-sms with a friend, only that things now are different between us. (But thats a separate issue and needs no dwelling in here.) The next moment I was thrown forward to the front seat as a speeding Tata Indica car rammed into our stationary ambassador pushing it to some distance. What all I could recall was that my head tossed and screamingly I fell towards the dashboard of the car from the rear seat with the loose seat belt hitting me straight in the ribs. After getting back to the senses as what had happened I managed to turn back and see who was making an attempt to kill me and the driver. A short height man who was at the wheel of the indica was estimating the damage to his automobile as I and my driver fumingly headed towards him.
The impact of the hit was so bad on the upper half of my frame that I started throwing up. Thankfully there was no blood. The heavily drunk rascal was cribbing about the damage to his Tata model and I felt like kicking him right there where it hurts most to get some sense into him as what he was up to a minute ago. To add to my woes, two bike-borne Surds appeared from some corner and came to the rescue of the Damsel in Distress!! Grrrrr… A chilling stare was of no help to me and I thought of better pushing off to home after noting down the number of the indica, sensing the trouble at that hour. But my driver was adamant to call up his boss and inform him about the accident. Fairly enough two gentlemen eventually came for help and let the matter halt then and there. They even escorted my cab to some distance as well. And before heading for their destination, one of them remarked: Do you know the impact of this hit? THANK YOUR STARS MA’M THAT YOU WERE IN AN AMBY. If it was any other small car, U HAD IT TONIGHT!!
The words were crystallized in time.
My compulsory disorder of seeing everything in images immediately flashed my frame wrangling half in and half out of the smashed windscreen of the car. And till I reached home, my aching nerves were simply thanking the motor and nothing else. And then I thought of documenting the nightmare that moment itself. But unfortunately couldn’t.
So here I take it as a privilege to pay my small thanks to the vehicle which, as an editor of an auto magazine puts it “stands on its own” even after years of ridicule and funny jokes.
The experience reminded me of a statement issued by one of the faculties in my journalism school and who is now a big shot in a News Channel: "We don't die in accidents, rather we live by accidents." Calls for some thought!!
The office cab ferrying me home at 1 am was waiting for the signal to turn green at a west Delhi red light and as usual I was playing sms-sms with a friend, only that things now are different between us. (But thats a separate issue and needs no dwelling in here.) The next moment I was thrown forward to the front seat as a speeding Tata Indica car rammed into our stationary ambassador pushing it to some distance. What all I could recall was that my head tossed and screamingly I fell towards the dashboard of the car from the rear seat with the loose seat belt hitting me straight in the ribs. After getting back to the senses as what had happened I managed to turn back and see who was making an attempt to kill me and the driver. A short height man who was at the wheel of the indica was estimating the damage to his automobile as I and my driver fumingly headed towards him.
The impact of the hit was so bad on the upper half of my frame that I started throwing up. Thankfully there was no blood. The heavily drunk rascal was cribbing about the damage to his Tata model and I felt like kicking him right there where it hurts most to get some sense into him as what he was up to a minute ago. To add to my woes, two bike-borne Surds appeared from some corner and came to the rescue of the Damsel in Distress!! Grrrrr… A chilling stare was of no help to me and I thought of better pushing off to home after noting down the number of the indica, sensing the trouble at that hour. But my driver was adamant to call up his boss and inform him about the accident. Fairly enough two gentlemen eventually came for help and let the matter halt then and there. They even escorted my cab to some distance as well. And before heading for their destination, one of them remarked: Do you know the impact of this hit? THANK YOUR STARS MA’M THAT YOU WERE IN AN AMBY. If it was any other small car, U HAD IT TONIGHT!!
The words were crystallized in time.
My compulsory disorder of seeing everything in images immediately flashed my frame wrangling half in and half out of the smashed windscreen of the car. And till I reached home, my aching nerves were simply thanking the motor and nothing else. And then I thought of documenting the nightmare that moment itself. But unfortunately couldn’t.
So here I take it as a privilege to pay my small thanks to the vehicle which, as an editor of an auto magazine puts it “stands on its own” even after years of ridicule and funny jokes.
The experience reminded me of a statement issued by one of the faculties in my journalism school and who is now a big shot in a News Channel: "We don't die in accidents, rather we live by accidents." Calls for some thought!!
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