I own a Car!!!

On my experience as a car owner in Delhi - alone, new and learning to drive!!!

I own a car. And drive it fairly well. I also swear and honk like all Delhi drivers. Indulge in the mad ploy to save ten seconds by jumping lanes and terrorizing “lesser” drivers into giving way for me. Got caught for speeding, for jumping signals. I own a car in Delhi!

Six months back, I did not know how to drive a car. I had never been in such a big city. I was thoroughly intimidated by the bustling city and its traffic. Purchasing a car remained a scary dream. But one day, the “practical” me got the better of the “tactical” me and decided to buy a car. Before I realised the implications of what I had done, I found myself in the streets of Delhi with a car and a learner’s license — alone.

As all new drivers would readily certify, nothing creates a more horrifying prospect than facing a busy signal at a slope, especially if the slope is gentle so that you never noticed it while doing back seat driving. To stop the car at the signal amidst a flurry of four wheelers driven by impatient strangers, to align it behind the car before, making sure that your car does not get a caress from its neighbour, to pull the air brake up, to put the gear into neutral and anxiously wait for the signal to change; this is just the first phase of Operation Horror. The real fun begins when the signal changes to green. The guy behind you remembers suddenly that his house is on fire and decides to go on fatal mission to get home as soon as possible. The person in front of you have gone ere long ago and crossed the signal as you watched enviously. The cars in the adjacent rows gleefully get into your lane as you fumble with your air brake in what increasingly appears to be an impossible quest to attain mobility.

It was sometime during the fifth minute of my Mission Impossible to co-ordinate between my air brake and clutch release that I perceived that the honking behind me had ceased. A moment of instinctive relief was soon replaced by abject embarrassment as I realised that the person behind me has got out of his car and was approaching mine. I readied myself to listen to the tirade. And surprisingly got none. The angel in human form, instead, came to my side and explained to me in a calm tone, how to get the intricate machinery to work. He stood there, while a grateful me fumbled again with the controls — now under the eyes of an expert navigator- and found to my delightful surprise that they responded. I was moving again.

I no longer am afraid of slopes. Those gentle ones hold no more nightmares for me. But whenever I pass that slope on my way to quenching the fire at my house, I gratefully remember that nice individual who helped me out. And resolve - the resolution usually remains alive for the next five minutes - to drive in a more matured and friendly way, especially around new drivers.