“I will never learn to drive that one”, I sighed as I pushed the stubborn two wheeler. Never mind I have qualified myself from being a mere spectator to a big time “pusher”! The scooter on the other hand had a look of scorn on his face, perhaps sneering at me with a look that said “The whole family has learnt to drive ,except u moron. Now don’t degrade myself by sitting on my backseat.” My head stooped, perhaps the machine had point there in laughing at my expense.
Anyway I ran alongside dad and pushed it out. Dad was just done fixing the spark plug. Soon after we ( I mean dad did it, but it’s a managerial way of saying it when u have no role in it!) fixed the spark plug problem, the side cover failed to fit. So the two engineers(Dad and myself) sat down to fix a simple little problem to no avail. “Too much”, I thought “what the hell is your problem?”, I queried the machine. “It defies sense”(something dad had declared long time ago I hardly have).My software brain simply couldn’t decipher this mechanical problem. I am after all only a gizmo guy.
Finally dad did that too and so nothing was left for the machine in its defense to stall it being sent into the pages of history. As I pondered onto the historic moment, dad scolded “open the gates will you?”I opened the gates as I have been rendering this service for years.
B2/90 Hindustan Cables, WB the quarters where we stayed, and where I first remember seeing the Chetak , and it has been a part of our family for nearly two decades now. Wow two decades!! It has certainly defied the laws of thermodynamics or even the performance guaranteed by Bajaj themselves. It rode us to church, to Amladahi market in Chitttaranjan , to office for dad, to playgrounds, relatives houses, Officers Colony, Causia (both Upper and Lower).It was a well oiled Chittaranjan locomotive(in the words of late Fr Mckessack) .Later when it was brought back to Kerala, it supported us in our time of need by helping us bring all the goods from native Kavalam to home and vice versa. It has would have given an auto a run for its money, for the sheer weight it carried without giving much trouble .The bumpy muddy tracks, over the grass across gravel it simply awesome .
A generation went by and slowly as the combined forces of wear and tear and age began to take its toll on the “Hamara Bajaj”, Dad decided it would be better to sell it off.
There will of course be something missing from our scooter shed .
“Joshy close the gate”, as I suddenly awoke from my myriad of thoughts .Dad had come back ,but this time no Chetak to ride beside him.Perhaps dad alone could match the machine in performance and could have given it a farewell befitting it.
Chalti Ka naam Chetak,hamara bajaj.
(just check this out for old time's sake..!)
http://www.santabanta.com/video.asp?video=1894
