Journalism of Courage
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Walking the car

Nowadays there is such a jam on the road outside my house that I have taken to walking my car inside my compound itself.

Nowadays there is such a jam on the road outside my house that I have taken to walking my car inside my compound itself.

Yesterday we took three rounds.

Today I will take him for seven,poor thing.

He knows there is a problem and yesterday he ventured to clear his throat:

“Is it this whole carbon footprint thing,master?”

“No,no,” I hastened to assure him,“I am environmentally as incorrect as ever,I promise.”

“Then… do my seats smell?”

“No,no! It’s just that…”

How do you explain things to a car?

“I know there is a problem,master. I know,because in the last seven days I have not seen either side of the Sea Link.”

“I know. I feel guilty. But what to do? I have been traveling.”

“I have not waited at the autorickshaw stand at the airport either. My libido is waning.”

“You cannot have sex with an autorickshaw.”

“Why not?”

“Er… let me think. There must be a reason…”

“Now you will say it is a good reason,also. But I have to tell you something,I have had sex with an autorickshaw before. Without your knowledge.”

“And?”

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“And it was good. She was waiting in the line and… I just jumped her. Her exhaust,the smell of her smoke…”

“Listen… no details. I had eggs for breakfast. Tomorrow I am going to Chennai. I will take you extra-early morning and you can sit in the airport parking lot till I come back late at night. What say?”

“Can we come home to Andheri (East) via the Sea Link? Like the old days,master,when we used to go to Marine Drive just for a drive?”

“No. We can come back via Saki Naka though,if you like.”

“It’s not the same.”

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“I guess. But just think… there are no autorickshaws on the Sea Link.”

“Hmmm. Are you trying to trick me? Is it because I am a car?”

“Nah. I would do the same even if you were a motorbike.”

“Speaking of which,I notice that you are not using your motorcycle either.”

“Yes.”

“Good. Serves the flashy bastard right.”

“Listen…”

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“And yesterday your cycle was making faces at me. He said you took him to Aarey.”

“Yes. But he’s a cycle… and there’s just enough space for him and…”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. It is that carbon footprint thing,isn’t it?”

“No. I swear. Aai shappath,in fact.”

“Why don’t I believe you? Why do I get the feeling that next you will be re-upholstering your computer? As it is you are doing everything via email. And you are also not attending so many meetings. I think you are developing a conscience,master.”

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“No. It’s just that… there is so much traffic. Especially outside our house.”

“That was there in 1997 also when you moved in. Also,now they have shown that the glaciers are not melting. In fact,that day you left a butterscotch ice cream on my back seat and that also was not melting till I helpfully turned my AC off.”

“That was you?”

“You left it there. See,master,if my seats smell you can buy me some of that deo that gets the chicks running for the nerd.”

“Look. Get this. The days for cars are over. Tomorrow there will be no space for cars. At least not in Mumbai

“Tomorrow?”

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“I mean that figuratively. Soon. I mean,soon there will be no cars in Mumbai. At least they won’t be moving,just parked,and taken out for a small walk now and then.”

“No cars?”

“No. Just computers. And people will just… you know… sort of… teleport. And how cool you are will depend on your processor speed. And the colour of your red laptop.”

“Maybe if we move to some quieter part of Mumbai?”

“Like where?”

“I dunno. Chandigarh

(You can write to the columnist at adipochas@yahoo.com)

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