{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 the great task of teaching us driving. He had three different types
of students the human version of the Macbethian
witches. The born dare devil- my elder sister. The Mr. know it all - Son
of our family friend and finally the eternal coward- me.
So on third August was
our first struggle with the car began. To make it as honest as mirror the
struggle was purely mine. The car said
goodbye to our home in which sat three nincompoops and an extremely calm adult
(technically younger than my sister but an adult in every sense).
Our calm adult belongs to army, hence I
expected him to be very loud, ferocious, strict and scary looking. But my every
expectation was turned into ashes. He was too soft spoken, strict but too nice,
no sign of ferociousness and far from scary looking. It seemed he was the
little rabbit who was going to be eaten by the lioness waiting in the car. My
fears came true, the creature in the car was too scary to be handled and our
Bunny Instructor was to be gobbled up. Let’s call our dear army brother Bunny
Instructor.
Our other companion is
the son of our family friend. Being a male in human society had given him the
fair advantage of knowing about cars in details. Since the male breed of this
nation is practically born on bikes, he had knowledge of clutch, break,
accelerator and gears. Road ethics were induced too, which was all contributing
to his nature of Mr Know it All. Hence our family brother is called Knowing.
People who have been
reading my boring life know the importance of this character. One of the main
contributing characters of my life even before my birth and even before gods
had decided my sex. My sister who has the supernatural ability to mould every
danger and fear that resides in me into her football and kicks that ball to my
face. This woman had no idea about driving car but her grinned could device the
devil. So confident, radiant and ready to hit the road and rock the roads. So
the forever Daredevil was inside the car and itching her fingertips which were
throbbing with “I want to drive desire”.
Finally we have me the
eternal coward, who foresaw all the silly, grave, gruesome, scary visions in
broad day light. I had few personal self experimented experiences with car,
hence I knew about clutch, break accelerator and gears. Still I was a wet cat
unwilling to leave her cozy couch. Let’s call me the scared Cat.
Our car was taken out
by Bunny instructor and our first ground of learning happened to be my Pink
College. Pink College has a huge grazing
field, where we sit and share our space with cows, goats, dogs etc. The open
field had been a popular spot for learning driving. Alas it was going to mine
too which was ringing in my head. First
Daredevil was handed the honour to start
the car in green field. So the loud sound of colliding clutch and accelerator
must have woken whole Pink College up. The car was filled with smell of burned
oil, but the grin of Daredevil grew bigger with every thrust. Soon the car was circling like a
mary-go-round. So the broom broom and
ditch broom ditch broom went on.
Next Knowing took the
control over. He too woke up whole district with is clutch-accelerator fusion.
It was loud and louder with every turn. It seemed our new car was the victim of
bride burning cases, she smelled burned oil.
Knowing is our Bunny Instructor’s classmate hence to Knowing’s dismay
his priority reduced.
I was in my new car, on
the ground of Pink College, wearing the uniform I loathed most. Everything said
me don’t drive today. Scared Cat wished to be eaten up by the earth, nothing
happened. Hence my first day of acquaintance with new car was destined to
happen when I was in my pinkish uniform. So Bunny Instructor asked me start the
car, which I did. Next he asked me to press the accelerator and release clutch
slowly. While following this procedure, the car jumped, it shaked but for me it
was a jump. The car went dead; the smell of burnt oil was again hanging in the
air. Again I started the car, same death blow took place. After third attempt
my car moved forward, with every second passing I felt my tummy turning and
churning inside. In this fear I took two turns of driving, driving straight,
sideways, aimless and very tamed. By this time my class time had been ticking
in. So I left the grey car with its inhabitant in a shaky manner. I left like
an ending scene of an Anime where credit rolls and you know your character
won’t meet those people again. I had rolled the credits in my sleeves, but what
I had experienced was the prologue to the process. I had to see them again next
day. As I walked away from the car, I chose to remain aloof from the afterward
part. Still the story was far from it real beginning.
P.S- Yes I am a scared cat
Thanking you to bear with me
paulOaries
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