My Car-nal Journey

This is not just the story of a journey. This is a tale of a man and his machine and that little special place they go to when the road stretches beyond the wildest imagination of any traveller or advertiser. This journey isn’t about geography or discovery, it is a little spiritual and may just be heavily contagious. Through this I try and make sense of that road and that day and all I remember is that face and that noise. The noise of the BMW kicking into gear is sexual, its the most primitive instinct in you coming alive. The Audi RS5 does this bit where it drops a bit of petrol into the exhaust every time you change the gear and it gives a little grunt. Now what could be more sexual than that! But the M3 defies the ordinary physics that applies to motor vehicle induced orgasms. It doesn’t do any special effects, it just drives its way through all the pain and comes out with all that raw noise and fist clenching power. The best part is, that it doesn’t warn you. Just holds you from behind and rocks your world and just when you least expect it and you are kicking up the gears, it explodes again, not in your face but deep inside where it all feels good.

The way I see it even though I got out of Jodhpur early in the morning, it felt like the journey had begun long ago, on a delivery table in a small dusty town in Madhya Pradesh. It had taken many years to prepare myself for it, to really brace myself to hold that wheel and guide it home to that special place. As I hit the G Spot of the car I passed the royal palace of Jodhpur, Umaid Bhavan, feeling every bit royal as the people in it. My chariot wasn’t decorated in gold or wasn’t run by white beautiful horses with flowing manes, mine it had a 414 horsepower thundered by a magnificient V8, in simple words that meant getting the cake with the cherry and the icing right on her from where you could lick it off. Moving away from the sexual overtones of that description, this was truly powerful goods which needed the right road. As I powered into the distance I saw the sun rising and begging me to respond to its entry with something sparkling and I responded with a 100 km dash with the windows turned down and the air blowing through the car like a hurricane. As the music system blared a playlist of Dave Matthews, Kings of Leon, Junkyard Groove, Kanye West and A.R.Rahman I drifted away to the sights of the green patches of ethereal beauty around me. The land that was once a desert was now a metaphor for hope and sustenance. Deep down I wanted to see the desert, it would have been immensely poetic if I could regale my BMW across the brown sands like some of that body chocolate covered across the white, slim yet curvaceous body of my car. As the sand would have blown across the road and covered her, she would have grimaced and then nailed down the gas and powered through right across the wind into a mist of pleasure and engulfed in its midst I would have pulled the traction back on to cool off and regroup. Blinking out of that fantasy I looked at the road and realized I was still 250 clicks away from Jaisalmer. There I would see the desert and there she would meet her true calling in the sands. As I powered through traffic it all went into slow motion, gentle and unassuming, as this black Land Rover pulled me in and then went through. It actually felt like that. I knew I was up against a strong machine which in its own wake had the world at its feet. It was a car I revered like a God and there was no greater turn on than sheer power. The M3 responded with a customary dash as I lined up next to the Black Mist (my M3 likes the name for him and we keep it) and at the wheel was a vision of perfection. She had the flowing hair akin to the desert winds and black as her car, she looked at me for an instant and all those lips and her eyes had to say were ‘bring it on’. We drove along each other for sometime as we measured each other up, the M3 and the Black Mist looked at each other, each knowing the other’s strengths. The M3 amazing at a dash but the Mist will catch up on a long stretch, M3 quick on the bends but then the roads had no bends, without traction the M3 will be gone before the Mist gets its GPS bearings but the solid suspension of the Mist keeping its ass firmly on the ground. While the cars sized each other up quite easily, we looked at each other with greater consternation, wondering what next. The cars were begging to begin but we wanted this moment, I sized her up, looking at those eyes which pierced straight through the 144 kmph we were cruising at, those lips a little apart anticipating my next move and those perfectly done fingers shivering a bit but not in fear but with pure joy hoping I would make the first move. I waited, held back the urges hoping to get her with her back against her seat, relaxing and not so tensed, when she least expected it, when she least expected it. The M3 looking at the Mist echoing what was in my mind, with the grunt becoming a purr. And then the Mist and she realized they were in the eye of the storm where it is all silent, peaceful, nearly Nirvana like. The road opened up and a small bend. Traction off, sports mode on, her fingers tensed around the wheel and she involuntarily shot a look too long at me and she knew it was on but the Mist was already a few seconds behind…

The desert came to life and with 50 clicks on the board, I saw her face cringe and then she smiled, the battle was already lost. Lost the moment she looked into my eyes and she realized that while she and the Mist were great on the eyes, the M3 and me were one fluid piece of mechanics, we reacted to each other and as the Mist tried to pick up speed, the sand blew across the white M3, gently dripping off its back leading in a white mist of complete sensuousness and a dazzle of exuberance. The sun saluted us one last time as the moon lit up the desert and my love, her hair still glowing in the dark..

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My Car-nal Journey