My Bajaj Scooter Adventure: Keep Your Eyes on the Road

What is the first thing you are told when you learn driving? Keep your eyes on the road – always. Here is a story that acutely emphasizes this point. Remember the days, pre-liberalization, when the Bajaj scooter was a most prized possession? Well, my to be father in law had one such scooter. Not that he ever used it, being a high ranking forest official, but insofar as the scooter was concerned, it was literally, the apple of his eye.

Now one fine day in 1984, the to be wife and to be saali (sis in law) felt the urge to, well you know how unfathomable girls are, visit Golconda fort. Those being the pre-Uber/Ola days, and traveling by bus/auto being beneath their dignity, they hatched an adventurous, and I would add, a devious plan – that of using their father’s very same apple. However, neither being able to drive a scooter, found them looking for a suitable way to circumvent this severely limiting factor. After a quick confabulation, their eyes fell on the to be husband/jijajee, viz Cadet RK Dahiya, then on leave in Hyderabad. Now Cadet RK Dahiya, was not too enamoured with history and forts and such nonsense, but when two doe eyed damsels look at you imploringly, the heart overcomes the mind and one can only agree.

Accordingly, a rendezvous was programmed 15 min after the to be father in law’s departure for office. The scooter was quietly pushed out of the house compound lest the to be mother in law hear the purr of the scooter. Once out of earshot we hopped onto the apple. Now, you will recall that the Bajaj scooter, unlike the LML Vespa of later years, had an unfortunate gap between the driver’s seat and the passenger seat. So a romantic cuddle on the scooter was feasible only via specific contortions by the pillion. And when there are three riders for two seats, it would be incorrect to say that ‘hopping on’ was an easy task. This task needed some dexterity as well as hit and trial. So after some mounts and dismounts, an adjustment here and a butt wiggle there, and with me literally standing with my rear awkwardly leaning against the seat rather than sitting, off we were, somewhat comically ensconced on the Hamara Bajaj (naye Bharat ki nayi tasveer style).

Did you know that damsels like, nay love to talk? Well they do. The ride was therefore accompanied by considerable chatter and girlish giggles – quite pleasant to hear, but distracting too. Me being somewhat of a new comer to Hyderabad, I was also given a running commentary on the sights by the two solicitous tour guides squeezed behind me. The problem is, when someone points to a particularly notable sight, one has to, in keeping with social niceties, look at it – which brings me to the title of this story – always keep your eyes on the road.

As was bound to happen when one does not follow the rules of the road, fate reared its ugly head just as I was admiring an attraction pointed out by the damsels. Two points are relevant here. One, my eyes were not on the road. And two, one of those infernal speed breakers that the municipalities across India seem to revel in erecting, decided to rear up ahead just at that moment. So, to cut a long story short, bump – the three of us went dump – in a lump – onto the asphalt with a thump. As can be guessed by you discerning readers, I for one, was least interested in any injuries sustained by the two damsels. I was more worried about the to be father in law’s scooter. And sure enough, horror of horrors, the front handbrake had broken off. Now those of you who have driven a Bajaj scooter will agree that this was a most useless appendage and was never used. But then who was going to explain that to the to be father in law? Once the two damsels had shake off their daze, they too eyed the broken piece with unconcealed dread. Some shrieking and excited yipping was also added to build up the atmosphere.

A war council was immediately convened right there on the road and it was quickly decided that the blasted Golconda Fort could wait for a more propitious day; our immediate priority being to get the handbrake replaced. Good plan, but remember the saying ‘for want of a nail the battle was lost’? Well we were is a similar quandary cause no mechanic that we went to had the godforsaken spare part. Ultimately, however, and as something is better than nothing, we decided to put SOMEthing – and we settled on a lookalike. The problem? – the left side original clutch handle was jet black in colour and this new lookalike on the right was a blue (or more accurately cyan, the to be wife added – clearly, despite the dire straits, she liked to keep the facts straight). But time was passing, and all ideas of a fun afternoon already having evaporated, we were the proverbial beggars who could scarcely be choosers. So, a cyan handbrake it was that was quietly parked in the to be father in law’s garage, attached of course to the scooter. I swear the scooter looking at us accusingly, but the human mind is susceptible to self hypnosis and thus, by considerable stretching of our powers of imagination, we deluded ourselves into agreeing that the visual distinction between jet black and cyan is negligible. Happily, the to be father in law never seemed to notice the altered condition of his apple. Insofar as we were concerned, suitably chastened, we never touched the scooter again. What did Xavier once say (you must enjoy his memes on the internet) – experience is that which one gathers from other’s mistakes.

All that is left for me ladies and gentlemen, is to implore you to learn from my mistakes and keep your eyes on the road while driving. Always.

And finally dear Reader, if reading this made you smile, please forward it to two friends who take life too seriously.