This evening, after work, I'd gone to the Geeyem Motors to collect my Chevy after her servicing on completing 27,500 kms. I'd met the the servicemen who'd actually worked on my car, to get a first hand knowledge of the state of the undercarriage(I've this habit of going through unwieldy bumps and depressions on roads at prohibitive speeds and in the process, kiss the surface quite too frequently!), the state of the fluids replaced and generally, about the work that have been done and about the spares that were replaced during the servicing. And it's always a treat to get tips on driving from those technicians, all hard core automobile enthusiasts!
Armed with the new information, I was driving back home at a comfortable speed through the evening traffic maze and was awaiting the green signal at one of the main traffic junctions! Just as the light came on, to avoid an autorickshaw that had come uncomfortably close to my Chevy, I'd swerved to the right and in the process, heard a sickening thud as the bumper took a scratch from the lorry standing beside - thankfully, its driver wasn't upset at all as it seemingly, didn't affect his vehicle. And I was left with two options:-
(a) Take my Chevy back to the service station and get the dent repaired tomorrow itself.
(b) Drive around with the dent till the next servicing!
Between Scylla and Charybdis, I chose the latter!!
I'm reminded about other recurring phenomena, of the same genre, all through my life and shall narrate a couple, here:-
(a) I'd have returned from my school/Academy, for the recess, after a semester. The whole family
would be at the table to break bread together and mom would have spread the freshly starched,
white table cloth. And it would invariably be me who'd soil the cover by dropping some dish
onto it while serving into my plate! Mom would check her exasperation as your's truly was back
home after a long while but my sisters would chuckle to their hearts' content at my discomfiture
and dad would offer his support by saying that mistakes are only human!!
(b) The washroom would have been scrubbed clean but when I walk into it, I usually end up leaving
my footfalls on the floor thanks to my soiled footwear! And mind you, my mom was and
continues to be a stickler for cleanliness!
Tailpiece.
Why am I clumsy? Why do I always end up fluffing the punchlines in a narration? And why do I get belated ideas to do the right thing at the right time?
Armed with the new information, I was driving back home at a comfortable speed through the evening traffic maze and was awaiting the green signal at one of the main traffic junctions! Just as the light came on, to avoid an autorickshaw that had come uncomfortably close to my Chevy, I'd swerved to the right and in the process, heard a sickening thud as the bumper took a scratch from the lorry standing beside - thankfully, its driver wasn't upset at all as it seemingly, didn't affect his vehicle. And I was left with two options:-
(a) Take my Chevy back to the service station and get the dent repaired tomorrow itself.
(b) Drive around with the dent till the next servicing!
Between Scylla and Charybdis, I chose the latter!!
I'm reminded about other recurring phenomena, of the same genre, all through my life and shall narrate a couple, here:-
(a) I'd have returned from my school/Academy, for the recess, after a semester. The whole family
would be at the table to break bread together and mom would have spread the freshly starched,
white table cloth. And it would invariably be me who'd soil the cover by dropping some dish
onto it while serving into my plate! Mom would check her exasperation as your's truly was back
home after a long while but my sisters would chuckle to their hearts' content at my discomfiture
and dad would offer his support by saying that mistakes are only human!!
(b) The washroom would have been scrubbed clean but when I walk into it, I usually end up leaving
my footfalls on the floor thanks to my soiled footwear! And mind you, my mom was and
continues to be a stickler for cleanliness!
Tailpiece.
Why am I clumsy? Why do I always end up fluffing the punchlines in a narration? And why do I get belated ideas to do the right thing at the right time?
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