One of my worst fears is that I'll never be a good driver.
I'm uncoordinated, careless, a day dreamer and mild. None of which are exactly the hall marks of a great driver; Especially if you're going to be driving in Mumbai. I watch my mother expertly navigating her way around rickshaws, trucks, BEST buses and secretly wonder if I could ever do all that AND yell at a daughter sitting in the next seat.
But to Roll Over and Die is not the deSouza's motto. I don't really know what our motto is, but it is definitely not that! No, we deSouza's face our Fears. Or in my case, we bypass them entirely.
The way I do this, is to pretend the opposite! I sat up at nights and thought fiercely, until I allowed my imagination to convince my brain, that I was actually not afraid. I goaded myself into believing that I was not only good at driving, but I was the best! The only reason my burgeoning skill had not been revealed to the world was because I hadn't had the opportunity!- The cons of being burdened by highly skeptical parents who are fiercely protective of their cars.
What could I do then?
The next best option seemed to be: go-karting!
After months of raving about the social, economic and environmental advantages of a go karting spin, I managed to convince my wing mates that the old Hiranindani arena was the place to be! We crowded around the ticketing counter one evening. "8 laps or 12?" asked the lackadaisical voice from behind the window. "12", I said firmly. "Are you crazy, Priyanka?! We've never done this before. None of us know how to drive and you want 12 laps," came the furious chorus. "12," I replied inexorably. If I was going to showcase my skill to the world, I was going to do nothing by halves!
We put on our helmets in grim silence. And all of a sudden we were off!
Dear Reader, I never felt such a thrill before in my life! For three seconds down that smooth, straight track, I had the wind in my hair, and stars in my eyes. I WAS a great driver. How could I have ever doubted that? And then came nemesis in the form of- A Turn.
Three seconds later, I had crashed into a cascade of tires.
While waiting to be extricated, I watched my other wingmates despondently, as they skimmed around the arena with skilfull ease. By the time a grinning agent had got me and the car back on track most of them had finished their 12 laps and were talking about it gleefully. They waited and watched in awe as I, determined to get my money's worth, painstakingly completed each lap at an average speed of 10 kmph. 20 kmph on the straight parts and ~0 near corners.
At long last I drew the car to a halt and got out. Maybe, I was a really good driver, I guess I just wasn't good at go-karting.
I'm uncoordinated, careless, a day dreamer and mild. None of which are exactly the hall marks of a great driver; Especially if you're going to be driving in Mumbai. I watch my mother expertly navigating her way around rickshaws, trucks, BEST buses and secretly wonder if I could ever do all that AND yell at a daughter sitting in the next seat.
But to Roll Over and Die is not the deSouza's motto. I don't really know what our motto is, but it is definitely not that! No, we deSouza's face our Fears. Or in my case, we bypass them entirely.
The way I do this, is to pretend the opposite! I sat up at nights and thought fiercely, until I allowed my imagination to convince my brain, that I was actually not afraid. I goaded myself into believing that I was not only good at driving, but I was the best! The only reason my burgeoning skill had not been revealed to the world was because I hadn't had the opportunity!- The cons of being burdened by highly skeptical parents who are fiercely protective of their cars.
What could I do then?
The next best option seemed to be: go-karting!
After months of raving about the social, economic and environmental advantages of a go karting spin, I managed to convince my wing mates that the old Hiranindani arena was the place to be! We crowded around the ticketing counter one evening. "8 laps or 12?" asked the lackadaisical voice from behind the window. "12", I said firmly. "Are you crazy, Priyanka?! We've never done this before. None of us know how to drive and you want 12 laps," came the furious chorus. "12," I replied inexorably. If I was going to showcase my skill to the world, I was going to do nothing by halves!
We put on our helmets in grim silence. And all of a sudden we were off!
Dear Reader, I never felt such a thrill before in my life! For three seconds down that smooth, straight track, I had the wind in my hair, and stars in my eyes. I WAS a great driver. How could I have ever doubted that? And then came nemesis in the form of- A Turn.
Three seconds later, I had crashed into a cascade of tires.
While waiting to be extricated, I watched my other wingmates despondently, as they skimmed around the arena with skilfull ease. By the time a grinning agent had got me and the car back on track most of them had finished their 12 laps and were talking about it gleefully. They waited and watched in awe as I, determined to get my money's worth, painstakingly completed each lap at an average speed of 10 kmph. 20 kmph on the straight parts and ~0 near corners.
At long last I drew the car to a halt and got out. Maybe, I was a really good driver, I guess I just wasn't good at go-karting.
Your narration is awesome; and I think the spirit never dies!
ReplyDeleteI am reminded of a story (an old one) by a Bengali writer Syed Mujtaba Ali. He was travelling on a bus in Afghanistan along perilous mountain roads. The roads were so narrow that it could barely be seen extending beyond the edge of the bus. Then there came the most dangerous of all turns and he was afraid to even look out. At the next halt, he asked the driver, a Sardarji: 'How on earth did you manage that? I was so scared I had closed my eyes.' Sardarji replied, 'Me too!'
Hahah Shamashis! That's a great story! I'm going to search for it to read. You have read so much! You're inspirational :)
DeleteUnfortunately, I don't think this book has an English translation. Its called 'Deshe-bideshe' ('At home and abroad'). I will translate for you more stories later :)
Deletehaha you'll make it, or anyway you'll manage an English boyfriend to chauffeur you around
ReplyDeleteThis was HILLARIOUS! way to go Priyanka!
ReplyDelete