We were returning from a short drive to Thrissur. The road was fairly comfortable insofar as the traffic was concerned and I was cruising at a comfortable 70 kmph.
A comfortable slope was looming large and while I was almost uphill, a private bus swerved right soon after taking off from a stop where it had picked up a few passengers. I slowed down because my Chevy's bumper would have come in its wake, had I pressed on at the same speed. However, a black Santro that was immediately behind me couldn't quite control its speed and touched me hard behind. A sickening feeling overtook me.
The Chevy was just back from the service station and a handsome amount had been spent on rectifying the previous dents after the hard tryst with a lorry and so, I'd pulled to the side to assess the extent of damage. I saw the Santro, too, pulling by ahead. I'd gingerly walked towards the rear to inspect and much to my pleasant surprise, saw that my car was unscratched.
And then, I'd gone to inspect the black Santro whose front bumper was broken and hanging. The owner, a young Muslim lady, along with her brother and the maid servant were the other occupants. The car was being driven by a driver on hire! I'd advised them to take the vehicle to its servicing station to apprise them of the situation when he blurted out the following:-
(a) the owner's husband was abroad, working in West Asia.
(b) the car had a mere third party insurance that covered only the metallic parts.
(c) the driver was scared at the prospect of having to foot the bill for his mistake, which it was
actually.
And yes, I did give him my cell number for necessary help/possible advice. He seems to have been trilled at the prospect of seeing me eager to 'help', though I was quite clear that I'd do nothing of the sort as the blame was completely his.
I'd received a couple of calls more when I'd to tell him that he needed to sort out the mess himself and that, I'd look into the matter after my period of absence, during the 'yatra'.
Tailpiece.
A wonderful evening with my classmates and their wives - Anil and Radha, Ramanujan and Prema. The singing session went along fine with everybody chipping in, including my mom, with the lullaby that she used to lull me to sleep with!
A comfortable slope was looming large and while I was almost uphill, a private bus swerved right soon after taking off from a stop where it had picked up a few passengers. I slowed down because my Chevy's bumper would have come in its wake, had I pressed on at the same speed. However, a black Santro that was immediately behind me couldn't quite control its speed and touched me hard behind. A sickening feeling overtook me.
The Chevy was just back from the service station and a handsome amount had been spent on rectifying the previous dents after the hard tryst with a lorry and so, I'd pulled to the side to assess the extent of damage. I saw the Santro, too, pulling by ahead. I'd gingerly walked towards the rear to inspect and much to my pleasant surprise, saw that my car was unscratched.
And then, I'd gone to inspect the black Santro whose front bumper was broken and hanging. The owner, a young Muslim lady, along with her brother and the maid servant were the other occupants. The car was being driven by a driver on hire! I'd advised them to take the vehicle to its servicing station to apprise them of the situation when he blurted out the following:-
(a) the owner's husband was abroad, working in West Asia.
(b) the car had a mere third party insurance that covered only the metallic parts.
(c) the driver was scared at the prospect of having to foot the bill for his mistake, which it was
actually.
And yes, I did give him my cell number for necessary help/possible advice. He seems to have been trilled at the prospect of seeing me eager to 'help', though I was quite clear that I'd do nothing of the sort as the blame was completely his.
I'd received a couple of calls more when I'd to tell him that he needed to sort out the mess himself and that, I'd look into the matter after my period of absence, during the 'yatra'.
Tailpiece.
A wonderful evening with my classmates and their wives - Anil and Radha, Ramanujan and Prema. The singing session went along fine with everybody chipping in, including my mom, with the lullaby that she used to lull me to sleep with!
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