I grew up in a middle class family. My parents did not ever think of buying a car for themselves. Initially it was not affordable and when it became affordable, my father reasoned that it is going to be a white elephant… who is going to maintain it, feed it, clean it and drive it around? After all was the auto rickshaw not so ever easily available, accessible and affordable? This was definitely a sensible argument and no one could counter him.
During the years when my brother was sick and was in need of help for mobility, we did often think of owning a car, but again those years were of excruciating pain, none of us were in a mindset to take any firm decision, and I despite being older was still a school teacher who considered a car, a luxury.
We did struggle, often a great deal. My mother broke down in sheer agony and helplessness many times, considering how most places became inaccessible and most travels impossible for my brother who was now wheel-chair bound.
Thankfully, father had a trustworthy friend, whom we call Krishnettan who was always willing to drive us around in his cab. Krishnettan not just drove my parents and my brother around for his numerous visits to the ayurvedic treatment centres, allopathy was not a choice, since they had already given up all hopes of any kind of recovery, he also lent a helping hand even as many of those we would have expected to be by our side chose to turn away.
Those were times of pain, nothing is more painful than to have to watch some one you love suffer without being able to do anything to reduce that pain. We all experienced that closely and somehow it changed all of us for better or worse.
When I thought of buying a car for myself, my brother had already left for his other home but my parents rejoiced at my ability to do something ‘rather elite’, on my own. So did I too, feeling empowered and blissful as I cruised around the city, cheerful, even in the most peak hours of Bangalore traffic, enjoying the feel of the steering wheel in my hands.
I liked it when I could pick and drop my parents who came visiting from Kerala, or drop my daughter or take her around or sometimes though rarely be privileged to drive around my friends or colleagues. I must say, I did thoroughly enjoy those moments.
In fact, I even fancied turning into a cab driver for the sheer joy of driving and some good conversation.
But then something changed and I started questioning the need to maintain a vehicle for myself, adding to pollution and traffic when enough cabs were available at reasonable cost.
Thoughts were soon followed by action and I decided to go ‘bekaar’ , and sell off the car… And it does feel good.
Sometimes, selling off, getting rid off what is not useful creates more space for what is productive, creative and more happy….
Will I regret this decision, may be, may be not but it is good to change equations and see how life turns out, how you respond and how you are perceived…
So long, as I enjoy being ‘bekaar’,what is that you would like to let go of?
PS: Of letting go!
4 responses to “Of going be-kaar”
You’ve got me thinking about that. It’s hard to give things up.
I was inspired by your father’s attitude, and moved by the painful circumstances related to your brother’s disability. ( By the way, how is he doing now?)
My favorite part of this post is your description of the pleasure you took in driving–to the point that you even considered becoming a taxi driver. It reminded me of a fantasy I’ve had off and on: being a truck driver, those really big and long trucks. And then there was a time when pictured myself flying people around in those really big and long airplanes. Maybe in another life . . .
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Thanks Albert. My brother is no more. He passed away in 2013. But that is fine since I always feel his presence.
It is interesting to give something up and watch how your mind responds to it.
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So that is what you meant by “his other home.” I like that, and the fact of his continuing presence with you. It gives me a different slant on loss.
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Yes, true that 🙂
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