Hamara ‘Baa Jaaaj’…
Thirty-five years
ago, when my uncle bought a Bajaj Chetak scooter, many came to see it. “Please
don’t apply front brake, the vehicle will skid, and you may fall,” said one.
“Green is nice,” another one said, praising the colour of the scooter. “Can you
handle it?,” an elderly couple asked my uncle, taking a dig at his short
stature. He laughed and checked the orange colour indicator of the schooter, the way a
child learns about digits. One, two, three, four… When he turned the switch on, the light blinked, like a melting orange chocolate. Soon, his wife, who is
taller than him, came to the front yard. She was fond of scooters as her father
had a Lambretta. Even though many raised comments, no one tried to read the
name of the brand which manufactured the scooter.
The aunt rose to
the occasion, after looking at the scooter. “BAA … JAAAJ,” she whispered. A
little boy who was standing near her heard this and he tried to correct her,
Aunty, it’s Bajaj, not BAA JAAJ.” Aunt smiled; a fresh yellow cloth tied on the
sidemirror flew in the wind.
The scooter had a
dried garland made of jasmine around its headlamp. Marks of sandal paste
covered the silvery letters of the name of the brand, Bajaj. A puja was
performed in the evening, and uncle fell off the scooter while negotiating a
hump in the night. It was not because of applying the hand-brake, but he was
unable to control the vehicle. A couple of weeks passed, and uncle started
crossing 50 kmph on the speedometer. It was raining, and uncle fell off his
scooter again while negotiating a pothole. People blamed his short stature for
the falls.
A couple of months
passed, and uncle started crossing 60 kmph on speedometer. He also started
riding with a pillion. For uncle, life without the scooter was unthinkable.
Aunty got her pronunciation right after removing the extra ‘A’s from the name.
People were not keen on aunt’s pronunciation, but her frequent 'pillion-riding'
disturbed them. “Oh, she is taller than him even though he uses the front seat
which is higher than the pillion one,” they said. Uncle didn’t bother. He kept
on increasing the speed of his scooter to avoid such utterances.
(Illustration: Mihika Saju, my daughter)
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