Rambo is mother’s trusty
steed, a 25 year-old Maruti high-domed van that has seen better days. It is the colour of dust and every few years
it gets ‘tarted up’ with a dusty-coloured-goldy paint. What lurks underneath that paint does not
bear thinking about.
Rambo is a bit like the
bionic man, he’s had most parts replaced at some time or the other and my mom
is always singing his praises. If he
breaks down, then it’s ‘well he’s so old what do you expect………..just need to
replace the gear box, the steering, the brake pads, the………………’ list is
endless’. Right now during my last visit
it was something to do with gears.
If one dares criticize
Rambo, even backed by the fact he is sitting outside the house raised on bricks
so the mechanic can get underneath to perform some surgery, she falls back on “
…… but he has a strong heart an amazing engine………the Maruti Service centre chap
says his engine perfect” . I am sure the
guy at the Maruti Service Center would say anything to get Rambo off his
forecourt. She now has her own mechanic
who comes once a month to repair and replace the various ailing bits of Rambo.
My mom drives like a
maniac. There are no ifs ands or buts
about that fact. She naturally denies
this fact vehemently. She always contends that she is a safe driver and has
never had an accident. In fact,
according to her, she will never have an accident as she has a well-aspected Mars. One cannot argue with such logic !
She loves the horn and one
of her low points in life that I remember is when Rambo came back from a
service with a horn that sounded like a sad wet kitten (I am sure the garage
did this on purpose!). My mom was aghast
……….how will she get through the bazaar with folk parking here there and
everywhere, with the vegetablewallas encroaching on the road, with the rickshaw
drivers (most of them illegal) taking over the town center. The people in Dahanu were even more aghast
because now they had no prior warning of mom’s arrival into town. Luckily this lasted only two days and after
taking Rambo to her ‘carelectrics’ bloke, the natural balance was restored in
her life and the town.
What I have not told you
is that my mom is very focused when she drives.
She has unintentionally hurt the sentiments of many a Dahanuwalla by not
returning their waves and nods as she passes them by. She has the razor sharp focus on the road
ahead of her and ignores everything else around her. I would like to tell the Dahanuwallas not to
take this personally ……she once had to pick me up from the station, I told her
if she was not there that I would start walking on her side of the road……….so
she knew I was walking and as I saw her coming I waved and waved and yet she
paid me no attention. I had to literally
jump in front of the car for her to stop …………..well I guess that’s a testament
to her reflexes that she actually did not run me over!
My mother is 77 years-old,
but as she is wont to overstate her age, let’s say she is 78. Being so mature, she now suffers from aged-related
macular degeneration and in one eye it is pretty advanced. Has this stopped her driving – heck no !
Macular degeneration causes you to lose your central vision but you maintain
your peripheral vision – so maybe she’ll be more aware of what’s around her
right side and have the razor sharp focus on the left side. And don’t even ask why we don’t get her a
driver…………….I have given up on that argument!
Getting fed up of the
Rambo shenanigans, my sisters and I, gave mom a new (second-hand in good nick)
Maruti Van for her 75th birthday (tried to put the driver into the
mix but she was having none of it). It
had to be a van nothing else would do.
Mom found it too nice, she could not go riding round the farm, she was
worried about carrying the gas cylinders, the fertilizer, the plastic pipes in
it, it was too nice and she was not happy with it. After a few months of mutterings and
grumblings about its inadequacies compared to Rambo she sold it. She used the money to make some repairs to
the house and of course to tart up Rambo.
I used to own a very battered
Maruti WagonR when I last lived in Pune, which I took back to Dahanu when I
moved there for a few years. I left it
at my mother’s when I returned to Pune for mom to use as a backup when her
trusty steed let her down ……….say once a month.
I never had the courage to tell my mother this was the reason as it
would be an insult to Rambo’s izzat – so as far as mom was concerned my car was
there for when I visited her place.
Unfortunately my car got
stolen, we believe, by a bhayya who danced naked once in front of members of my
family, but that’s another story!
So now mom is left with
Rambo, sans replacement. Will she
continue to give him unwavering loyalty? Only time will tell – let’s see what
happens when Rambo lets her down (which he will) and she has no backup.
However, Rambo will be
with her in the afterlife. My mom wants
to get buried on the farm. I have told
her that if she wants to be buried on the farm she needs to organize the
digging of the hole where she wants. She
needs to get written permission from the Tehsildar, Talati et al. We have strict instructions to plant a wild
fig tree for the birds on top of where she lays and to have a huge party for
the Adivasis. All of this I will do, but
I will also ensure that the hole is big enough so mom can be buried in her
beloved Rambo with her hand on the horn !
'izzat' for the non-indian means prestige, honour , respect.
