But before we reached the refreshment break, which was to be one of those coffee bars along Bandra’s seafacing Carter road, Miriam finally decided enough was enough. She just stopped. The heat got to her, and since most of the drive was in the thick of slow-moving traffic and red signals, the ignition coil had heated up. Other cars, and even bikes which were flagged off after us, were already driving back on the final stage. I rushed off to buy, believe it or not, chilled mineral water for her highness to cool her coil. Man, I bring my own bottle of water from home, but for this lady, nothing less than Bada Bisleri would do. Expensive tastes these women have. At least it was not Evian.
Finally, she chugged to life. We took a break, chomped and drank whatever the coffee bar offered us (nothing for you, go away, bad girl!). Then Tushar decided enough was enough. He felt that Miriam deserved a better man than I, sat behind the wheel and thrust the tulips on me. Now, I know my way around Mumbai, I don’t need no navigation chart to guide me. I threw them on the back seat, and we tried reaching our eventual destination, which was Chembur, leapfrogging other sections of the rally. Now you know why I didn’t require those tulips, right? However, Miriam reached boiling point (metaphorically speaking of course, for a Beetle can’t technically reach boiling point) in the Bandra traffic. She refused to start at the signal, not once, not twice but four times, until we decided to push her in the face of oncoming traffic. Because she is damn cute to look at, no motorist raised his fists in fury.
Another stop, and a water-soaked cloth massage again for her highness. This time Tushar somehow communicated to her to behave herself. I have never seen my Beetle move so fast, she just left all the other cars – read modern cars – far behind. Tushar wove through traffic and we went careening around the road towards Chembur. My heart, in the meanwhile, was knocking at the back of my teeth. His explanation was that if she stops now, she’s not going to start again. And the only way she would not heat up is by maintaining an adequate level of rpm. Well, if you insist. It made me quite jealous, Tushar and Miriam’s intimacy. She heats up when I drive, but when Tushar’s behind the wheel, everything is fine.
Eventually Competitor No 66 made it to the final check and we parked next to all the 120-odd cars that were already resting after the trial, and their respective owners were happily gorging lunch – even after we skipped some sections. So much for me and my Beetle’s maiden vintage rally attempt. By the next year’s event, I promised myself I would make her rally-worthy and be there to collect the honours. But Tushar is definitely out.
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