I, the ‘Niki Lauda’ from India
To all the road Romeos out there,
Had Niki been on the streets today, he would have startled you by his drifts.
To all my babes,
Just get off your lip balm and type in his name. He was one the most desirable of his times.
To all aunties and uncles,
Don’t bother! You may continue browsing your WhatsApp chats.
(Painting was done by me from one of the photographs of the Top Gear magazine cover)
SHURU!
Which is the Hindi word for ‘Start’. Just like the Indian rapper Badshah (supposed-to-be-rapper) who proclaims a kickstart after one and a half minutes of playing off his song.
Andreas Nikolaus Lauda(copy-paste from Wikipedia for my lazy couch potatoes) was a 3-time F1 World Driver’s Champion, winning in 1975, 1977, and 1984 and is the only driver n F1 history to have been champion for both Ferrari and McLaren, the sport’s two most successful constructors. In short, he was one of the greatest F1 drivers of all time.
Lauda was seriously injured in a crash at the 1976 German Grand Prix during which his Ferrari 312T2 burst into flames, and he came close to death during this accident.
Coming to me,
I have overtaken a line of vehicles enumerable times on Swargate-Katraj road, Pune University road amidst the potholes, taken abuses and ranting from co-travelers for cutting their lane, drifting around corners. I have been the only girl in the history of my family to have done so.
I was seriously injured in a side-by-side collision with an 8 wheeler truck in 2018 during which my helmet broke apart (just to claim its warranty ) and after being pushed away by the rear wheels of the truck I even came close to death!
You see the resemblance in our driving history! And so I proclaim to be Niki Lauda, the one from India. Well…well….well..his early carrier and his passion for cars were never lesser than mine.
Scenework 1:
A blast down the highway proved that the 94 horses via the six-speed gearbox is enough for our roads. Vibrations building up at the pegs and the handlebar. The windblast escaped the tiny shield to catch me full in the face. Another big bump nearing and daddy asked me to hold the handlebar tight. There I was, making goofy noises, 6-year-old Champion-in-making, sitting in front of daddy on the fuel tank. With my tiny feet curled around the front mudguards, I lowered my shoulders to streamline to the air currents. 20 years later, still not being able to drive the motorcycle well. I grew up buying all such rides from my daddy and my brother. The only difference between then and now is that I was made to sit behind. Also, the hard metal was replaced by the soft cushioned one seat at back. Moreover, the head-to-head clashes with the fresh air current were replaced by the air-flown under the driver’s armpit.
Scenework 2:
With the throttle responses optimized for traction on loose surfaces, suspension at full height, and traction control set to minimum interference, it was time to get on the road less traveled, something the GS is tailored for. With the 21-inch front clambering over all sorts of broken surfaces and all 230mm of travel at play in the front and 215 mm at the rear, the 850 GS smothered most of it without hassle, although… “Close the magazine or else get out of my class”. Came a roar from the front. My ‘Theory of Machines’ professor shouted aloud seeing me read the ‘Top Gear’ magazine. I was about to ask the Prof to throw me out of the class to let me complete my read, but stopped midway after his announcement for the lab visit. To my sheer excitement, I ran as per his instructions to the lab. WTH! After 910 days, 7 hours, and 31 minutes of a wait after enrolling for the ‘Mechanical Engineering’ course, I get to see the sectional view of the rear driveline’s differential! Dayum! I rather marry a garage owner to see all of the auto parts. Moreover, it took me 2 days of making an ass of myself with stupid questions to the professor to understand how the wheels take the power from the differential to get their butts rolling.
Scenework 3:
And when it came to corners, the V class really surprised me. There was a bit of body roll of course, but it was never alarming for me, not even close to what I expected from a vehicle of this size, So much so, that I was tempted to do the kind of speeds or pull the kind of moves and have that ginormous bottom wiggle a bit. But loud protests from Raju thwarted that attempt. “Madam….Maar daalogey kya? Bacche bhi karne hai mujhe”, he yelled(Madam….are you going to kill me too. I am yet to marry and have children) Raju was my tutor for the driving class I joined from my first pay and it was my first drive with him. After the class, it hit me strong, when he told me that he had a hard time controlling the clutch and the brake. Man! I was so busy making the quick flicks between the lanes that the presence of the double clutch-brake system installed inside the ‘Training school’ car went unnoticed. All the credit goes to Raju’s account for the beasty ride. I was just a toddler amusing myself by steering the wheel.
These lines popped in front of me one day and I stood still after reading them. They completely justified all of my fad, my craze, my love, my admiration, my enthusiasm, my urge to learn about automobiles, and the driving sport. So yes, I want to be ‘white-hot’’. ‘Red hot’ is just not enough for me.
KHATAM(the end)
