Heh, heh, heh,’ I gloated, ‘when these guys see my Beetle tomorrow, they’ll freak.’ I sauntered over to the area where the vintage and classic cars were being scrutinised and checked out all the cars that were assembled there. A priceless Rolls-Royce Phantom II with a dual-tone colour scheme and an amazing Gurney Nutting coachwork. A sporty Alfa Romeo 1750 lounging stylishly. A Humber Hawk, well-polished and gleaming in the evening sun. Classic American iron in the form of a Cadillac Golden Anniversary and Packard Clipper. Hmm, brilliant stuff, but we’ll see who’s the cynosure of all eyes at the Mumbai event of the Vintage & Classic Car Club of India.
That night, I could hardly sleep because of the excitement. For the first time, Miriam, my 1960 Volkswagen Beetle, was going to make a public appearance – and how! I was going to take part in a rally, something I have been thinking of for years. I paid my watchman what I normally pay him for the entire month to make her look chakachak. My navigator was to be Tushar Chemburkar, who takes care of my baby at his garage. He lavishes attention on her and in the initial days before restoring her, only he could start her up. The seeds of their romance were planted then, and little did I know how adulterous Miriam was until the day of the rally. That night, amidst all that tossing and turning, I dreamt how Miriam would beat all the others in performance in the classic category (cars between 1941 and 1960) including the Jaguar XK150S and the Mercedes 190 SL. And I even noted gallantly that I would mention how well the other contestants performed in my prize acceptance speech.
The day dawned, and Tushar and I left for the flag-off point at Kala Ghoda, near the Gateway of India. Miriam chugged merrily along the streets of Mumbai at that early Sunday hour and she seemed quite cheerful (was it Tushar...?). We were among the first participants to land up. I collected my competition number – 66 – and felt quite happy with it. This was going to be perfect – I wondered to whom I could give my camera to take my picture when I went to collect the prize. Eventually, other cars started trickling in, and a red Morris Minor convertible and a white 190 SL were parked either side of Miriam. Ha, basking in her glory, no doubt.
Eventually, we were flagged off. There were crowds lining up at the flag-off point and I made sure I waved and gave my best 64-teeth smile for the cameras. Some documents and biscuits were thrust inside the car, and off we went. Now, the problem was that it was the first time Tushar was seeing a tulip chart in his life, and the other problem was that, er, should I turn left or right? However, it didn’t take long for my navigator to get the hang of navigating, and in fact, later in the rally, I overruled his sense of direction, only to get lost. He was that good.
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