KhepiAri

{The part two of my driving experience} On second day, Bunny Instructor and Knowing were standing at door step early in the morning. Overexcited Daredevil too was up with the first sound of alarm. But the Scared Cat who had hunted words late night was not willing to wake up. It was the time for the scared Cat’s sacred dream time. Yet she was pulled out of her sister’s comfortable bed and was forced to brush and wash her face. Life for next one month was going to be harsh for the scared Cat. The carbon gray car was again out into the blue to its practice field in Pink College. Pink College was not informed about the training hence its huge gates were locked up. Bunny Instructor took the car to ITI field which was an open ground for masses. Daredevil went on her usual whirlpool of driving, the same story of clutch break accelerator began and smell of burnt oil ran in air. Yet the Daredevil was not the one to back off. The more the car resisted, more the Daredevil suffocated...

{This is going to be several part article series. Since I have got few complains of being repetitive in my feminist outlook and missing my humourous pieces, so today I try to write one. The pleasure writing is about my experience of driving lessons I had to endure. } On my mother’s fifty first birthday our new grey shiny car arrived. After years of travelling in government authorized cars my father had the great enlightenment of buying his own just a year before his retirement.  With the advent of the car came the first problem, who would drive it. At the precise moment the ever enthusiast sister of mine was ready to drive the car without any prior idea about driving car. Yes she was home, which meant normalcy was far from sight.  Hence the hunt for driving instructor began. I asked my major mates, my father asked his personal chauffeurs, but the target was hit by my mother and sister duo. The son of our family friend found us one.  So the poor fellow had th...