Red-dy Gar-u

When I was 6, I wanted to be an automobile engineer. I imagined that when I grew up I would build cars and jeeps and the entire nation would run on my 'V' badged super cars. As preparation to my future, I made my parents buy as many miniature cars as the number of outings we took - even if the outing was to the next street grocery shop.

At 16, when hormones worked overtime, my preferences changed and I decided to be a taxi. Like when I was 6, I wanted to prepare for it. So when my parents bought their first 800 like many other Indians, I sneaked the car out as often as I can. After a few initial bumps and scraps I learnt to drive in quick time. I had a good father who rivaled and sometimes surpassed me dumping the car that we cancelled each others' damages. Mum did not know our deal.

Soon I realised that being a taxi driver is not such a good job. Thanks to television, I was enlightened that the job of taxi drivers also had other duties such as buying vegetables, picking up the ironed clothes from the iron-man and washing dishes. The first two were acceptable; but washing dishes? You know how I cringe to touch water. So to soak my hands entirely in a pool of water was not something I could do for the driving job.

My car building plan was still at the back of my head. But I dropped it when I was in my second year of college. I had solid reasons. I had to complete a course called Mechanics of Solids which is fundamental for mechanical engineers. And usually mechanical engineers specialised to become automobile engineers who made cars. But midway through the course I realised that all I was making in the course was zeros. By the looks of it, I could only make circular tyres from the zeros. An engine-less car is no good. So I dropped the plan as I was intelligent enough to know when to give up.

Now, at 26, the mad rush for cars resurfaced again a few weeks ago - but this time to own a car. So I bought one with Jinku's money. I was happy that I could make atleast one part of my car dreams come true, but there were some practical niggles.

First, the UK rules are not as good as Indian rules. In the UK, I am not allowed to park anywhere I want to. Not just that, I have to pay money to park MY car! And; I have to remove the car in less than 2 hours in most places. What a scam. Even when I pay money, I don't get value for the money. I can not park the car the way I want to. I will have to reverse park and parallel park in many places. Why are the British so keen on inserting their cars between other cars? Don't they know it is vulgar to do so in public in many cultures and Britain being a multicultural country must spare a thought for foreigners from other cultures? But the best of all British queerness is that they have speed cameras to spot you if you drove fast. The primary use of a car is to travel from point A to point B as quickly as possible. So what sense does it make to limit your speed?

It is not just the road rules. Buying a car is not just buying a car. One has to get a car insurance which is half the price of the car and no sane man will find logic in it. Even if I crashed my car once every 3 years, instead of just the repairs that the insurance company pays for, will I be not able to buy a new car if I saved up the money I used to insure the car? There is more madness. But I have to stop right here as my tom-tom is alerting me of a security camera watching me rubbishing British rules. But before runaway, come to think of it, what use are the speed cameras when tom-toms know where exactly the cameras are located and warn you a mile before the cameras spot you!