Vroom in the New Year.

It’s 10.30 AM and I park my motorcycle at the RTO in Chikhli. I am here for a test to get my 4-wheeler driving license. I reach my driving school office (shop no 33) and wait in a queue with my learner’s license. The clerk is furiously filling away application forms. My turn arrives and I submit my learner’s license. He just looks overleaf and then asks for my two-wheeler license. Now why in the world is he asking for my two wheeler license, I wonder. Well it turns out that I’d be getting a combined permanent license for two as well as four wheelers. Wow, that’s neat. He attaches the learner’s and two wheeler’s licenses to the application form, and hands it to me. I am then told to go to office no 10 to pay for the smart card.

Office no 10 is on the floor above. Another long queue awaits me there. Boy! It’s New Years Day and there are so many people coming for a driving test. The day sure is auspicious and I won’t blame them. Thankfully computerization shows its benefits. I get the receipt within 15 mins of waiting in the queue. I go down to the floor below. I meet my driving instructor. Let me tell you; this guy is grumpiness personified. I always had my ears full when I was learning from him. Hesitantly, I walk towards him and wish him a happy new year. Surprise surprise!!! Mr. Grumpy knows to smile. I show him the receipt and ask him what next. He tells me to get a photocopy of that, to preserve with me. I take a couple, and return to shop no 33. I am asked for some signatures, and then told to wait at the parking below.

There are at least 50 other people waiting at the parking. Some nervous, some cheerful, and some absolutely not bothered at all. I guess I fall in the last category. Yes, I am goddamn confident. I read some messages. Happy New Year messages are getting more poetic each year; not to mention their lengths. All I reply to them is a HAPPY NEW YEAR?. KISS is my motto. Hehe. KISS stands for Keeping It Short’ n ’Simple.

Okay, so now the instructor arrives at the scene. The grim look has returned. "The officer today is kinda strict. You’ll have to put in 4 gears. Please make sure you don’t stall the car." Now that throws a cat amongst the pigeons. I am still unperturbed. Very innately I know, this is gonna be a piece of cake. After about 15 mins, we all sit into different cars and are driven to the test site. It’s almost 12 noon. It’s hot! January 1 could not get any warmer. Where’s the winter gone? I’ve been asking this question all through the season. Global warming, you see. Beads of sweat start forming at my sideburns. There’s no sign of the STRICT officer still.

Finally after an eternity the officer arrives. I can’t help but laugh at the mere sight of this man. Almost 6 feet tall and may be 600 pounds in weight. Gosh, he has a waist size of probably 60 inches. His love handle seems to be head over heels in love with him. True lovers just cannot be separated, eh? Whatever! I am watching this COP from a distance so I’m pretty safe. I honestly would have had a tough time keeping a straight face. Policemen! I know, you guys like to throw your weight around, but this is too much. This is gross.

Anyway, the tests have begun. There are more than a hundred people with all sorts of vehicles. Everyone wants this to be done quickly. I now feel sorry for the cop. He has to conduct the test for every one of us. So then, the tests start off with the two wheelers first.

A middle aged woman rides past me at about 20 km per hour. She has this strange look on her face. It’s something like this. Her eyes are wide open, unblinking and watching the road. Her upper and lower lips are tightly squeezed beneath and above the respective set of teeth. Her hands are firmly on the handle. Her legs are on the foot rest, but somehow waiting to touch the ground, in case of an emergency, which looks imminent. Jesus Christ! This lady is petrified.

Well, she rides on for about a 100 mtrs, does a U turn and is returning to the starting position. Now just as she is about to stop, it seems there is an EMERGENCY. The vehicle she is riding, is an automatic-gear scooter. Both brakes are at her hands. But the urge to use her legs has her trying to find ground but the vehicle isn’t stopping. Some onlookers give way. Her lips have gone tighter. Gosh! Will she stop legitimately? Thankfully common sense prevails and her hands apply the brakes. She passes the test! Hurrah!

Vehicle after vehicle whiz past me. Most of them pass; a few unfortunate ones will have to try again. The heat is sweltering. Finally at about 1.15 PM my turn arrives. Our little car looks a little tilted down towards the left. As I get in to the driver’s seat I notice the fat cop sitting on my left. I touch the steering and then my forehead. I say a small prayer. Dude, this is serious now, I think.

I am just about to turn the key, and my eyes go to the gear. It’s left at 1. The guy who took the test just before me didn’t bring it to neutral. Phew, had I turned the key I’d have had a STOL (that’s short take off and landing; in formula one parlance) and a grade F on my application form. I thank god as I pull the gear to neutral. I turn the key and the car starts to roll backwards. I take a couple of seconds to realize that I was on a slight slope. I quickly put gear one, release the foot brake and step on the gas. The engine revs. I am slightly scared now. I let the car go for about 5 mtrs and then it's turn for gear 2 and then I just have to go through the motions. Just a minute of driving and that’s it. I bring the car on neutral, pull the hand brake and alight. The cop doesn’t say a word. "Did I pass?" I ask my instructor after a while. Yes indeed. I passed and my new year has just begun.