It is unbelievable and incredibly humbling that I am getting to experience this feeling again. I now know twice what it feels to yearn intensely and then on nonchalant summer day actually get what you want.
What started in a Tata Motors library and ended in a Lotus, began again in the Porsche museum. And now, fourteen years after I first landed in the country which promises to make your dreams come true, I satisfied my cravings in a car that I still can’t believe is mine.
Open sesame!
I find her so beautiful that any picture I take seems like an insult. I keep questioning why the camera isn’t able to capture her edge-less silhouette and seamless shadow play. It is so painful that I can’t share the twinge of ecstasy that I decide to get a bad picture of her to ensure that clear blame could lie with the photographer or his equipment.
It would almost beneath her to talk about her specifications. Her sum is way more than her parts. So refined and well put together, she carries me everywhere with a whisper. Understated but dressed elegantly in black, not haute couture but relentlessly in style, she can hold her own in any given melee of divas. Under the surface, she is functional and to the point. She is somber but not gloomy. She speaks white on black with strips of alcantra and silver pointing to her racing past and pedigree present. I can nestle in her seat perfectly. Her headlight humps forming a sight for the loaded gun she is.
And if I ask her nicely, she breaks eagerly loose. She turns into a fiery fire breathing dragon, quick in turns and raucous in a straight line. Her baffles crackling off throttle, the noise filling up the passenger cabin like an opera. Her generous profile shrinks around my steering wheel and we yaw together. The human machine interaction is organic, my heart beating with her throaty and unbalanced flat six. There is unison in our chaos and agreement in our twists. She is perfect because she is her own measuring stick.
It’s been a 14 year road trip so far. I hadn’t imagined owning cars I would study and fantasize about. I hadn’t imagined that she would be with me, happy as a pair, happy as two.
This isn’t happy ending or a start. It is the suspended pursuit of happiness in a place with her and the 991 911.
Liked.