Breathing out into a police-walla's face and other stories

When my bike got stolen around this time last year, one of the things I said to myself in consolation, over the next few months, was that perhaps God wanted me to buy a car and learn how to drive properly. Cycling home on some rainy evenings, soaking wet, I promised myself many times over the last one year that by the next monsoon I would have a car. I kept pushing the car buying decision till the very end and then only the late arrival of the monsoons in Bangalore has helped me keep that promise. It rains almost every evening now [this was written last Sunday -ed] and I go home snug and dry in a nicely washed car.

Don't worry, everyone has to start from scratch ...

...a witty senior at TI is said to have said about anxious new-car owners. In my case it was not a scratch but a splinter. I broke the left parking light in a parking skirmish with some rugged steel part of Som's (stationary) bike. But since my car is only a second hand Maruti I don't care too much about a few bruises here and there. Besides, I have since found out that scratches on a white maruti don't stand out so much. Since then, I have, shall we say, taken liberties. There have been no more accidents with Som's bike and now I sometimes find it difficult to park if Som's bike is not there.

Releasing the clutch...

...was not so much of a trouble since I had learnt some driving in Manipal, but there were things to learn, such as remembering to release the handbrake before starting to drive. Som would say of my driving that it would be sometime before he could sit, relaxed in my car. I said it would be even more time before I sat in my car and relaxed. Every time I started I would take a deep breath and mutter "here goes..." I would slow down to a crawl if there were female pedestrians around. I will never be able forgive myself if I reduced that half of the population.

Breathing out into a police-walla's face

This was Som's adventure with my car and I grudge him that. We were going home after dropping off Prasenjit. Som was driving, and suddenly there is this police barricade asking us to slow down and stop. Som drives better than me, which is not saying much, and he manages to halt without accident. He has only a Dallas driving license. It is 11 in the night and I think we are in trouble.

"Drinks?" asks the policeman. "No No." we say confidently. Though we should have said, "Actually...a little. Maybe. Yes." "Ok breathe out," says the policeman and brings his face next to Som's. I think he makes quite some money out of the bribes for him to be so fearless. Som breathes out. "Ok go."

We go. And breathe. Luckily we had both had had spearmints, not as a precaution, just like that. I think it is a good omen for my car - not the spearmints, but this whole police episode.

But where are those garlic breaths when one needs them, I ask you?

Bangalore Public is nice (and I hope all this IT money does'nt ruin it one day)

There are more people who don't honk, than those that do. And motorists on the spot advise you patiently about how to get out of tricky jams. And general lookers-on take an interest on whether or not you navigate that bump or ditch.