Bajaj---India's own !

Today me , dad and mom went to see a malayalam film "rasathanthram"---meaning chemistry. It was very unusual in the sense, it has been years since we went for a movie together. If I am in Ireland, mom and dad go together for a movie, in their 1980 model Bajaj Chetak(scooter)...may be to revive their young good old days of marriage. Even today while in car amma was asking dad that he should service our 1980 model "khataraa". She must be missing its youth !

 

I was 3 yrs old when dad bought that scooter. So he (or she?) is 25,now. Prime age for a man. But not so "prime" period for a scooter. I think Bajaj company even stopped its production of scooters. He may be the only specimen left now. When he was first brought home, his color was light-green (that was my moms favorite color...). By now I think, 3 times, dad made it re-painted.

 

When it first came home, I was so excited about it. My place was in the front, standing, with my head almost touching dad's chin. Later when my head grew taller than dad's chin level, my place was transferred to back seat, squeezed between mom and dad. I was sandwiched there, for nearly next 10yrs. Everywhere we went like that. Luckily (mostly due to sympathy) police didn't catch us, even for once, for taking overload!!

 

Its license number is KET 5277. Now, the license numbers in Kerala start with KL. We have never faced an accident with this sweetheart of a scooter (touchwood!). After these successful 25 yrs, he has never given dad, even a starting trouble. In early days, it was a ritual for me and dad to wash it, every alternate day. I was made to wash the tyres, as only my hand could go inside the narrow space b/w tyre and mud-guard! (I was 4 then). Now I think the only times he feels water is when there is a drizzle. (poor thing, so much for 25 yrs of faithfulness!)

 

Now its color is a form of grey(actually, I am not so sure, as the color blends with the atmosphere, so that it makes it difficult to identify it). Now when I travel in it, and when we hit the humps in roads and of course pot holes, I find myself  in a bone-rattling situation. (shock absorber is almost nil!).

 

There was once a time, when I played with it for hrs, when dad put it in the stand. (at that time, it could bear my weight, even while in stand). And one day it made me aware that I was overgrown to play with it, by falling side ways on my leg! Boy! That was really a hell load of a weight. My leg was in cast for weeks.

 

 

It saw me grow..it saw us change houses and now its with us in our own house...(still, he doesn't have his own shed or even a shack !). Amma loves him and dad trusts him, more than himself. Now we don't take over load in it. Its either dad and me / dad or mom.

 

But sometimes I think, if he could speak, he must have told whole family history. Of a girl of 3 yrs whom he carried for a whole damn 25 yrs ; who loved him at the beginning and conveniently forgot his existence (along with so many other things!) , in the process of growing up.