A Story Of Attachment…With A Car
My Dad recently bought a new car.
I did not know how to drive a car, so he hired a driving instructor to teach me.
By the end of 12 days, I learnt how to drive.
Every time we went out, I secretly hoped to drive.
The excuse I’d give to my parents: “Look, I recently learned how to drive and I need to practice.”
The truth is, it felt good to drive a brand-new car. So, I’d grab every opportunity I could.
One fine day, while coming back home from a distant place, I got the chance to drive, again.
I drove carefully, for the entire family was in the same car. Despite so, another car (old) tried to abruptly get in front of me by way of the space that I had left during bumper-to-bumper traffic.
This led to some scratches on one of the sides of the car. When I saw those, it broke my heart.
My Dad still said, “you drove well”. (It’s a big deal to get a compliment from him)
I kept thinking about what went wrong and what I could have done to prevent this.
My Dad could not see me upset, so he took me to a car garage and we got a rubber compound to remove the scratch.
It worked! No more scratch. Now, I became more careful.
Another day we were going to the market. My Dad asked me, “Do you want to drive?”
Ya sure, I responded happily.
While driving, I got several instructions from my Dad.
“Keep it slow, we need to find a space for parking”
“Keep it to the left”
“Let’s Park here”
“Slow down…where are you going?”
My mind did not register any of them. I was busy enjoying the drive.
“Dad, stop distracting me”, I said.
He became angry and wanted to get down from the car.
Mom: Why are you angry, let him drive his way?
Dad: I can’t believe you are telling me. See where he is going! Can’t you see how crowded this place is? Where is he going to park now?
Relax, you guys can get down here. I’ll figure out where to park, I said.
Of course, I did not feel good about the whole thing. So much brunt for a little drag?
I ignored my feeling, thinking It’s OK, happens!
However, this happened again…in a different form.
We were invited to someone’s house for lunch…25km away. I was delighted that I’d get a chance to drive again, hopefully.
Dad wants to come back home before it’s dark so maybe he’ll drive himself while coming back and give me a chance to drive while going there, I thought to myself.
“You don’t know the route, so let me drive,” he said.
I was disheartened, yet again.
While coming back from there though, he asked me “Do you want to drive?”
“I don’t mind”, I said.
He gave me the keys, and, I start driving. He sits beside me to “instruct” me, again. (Though he would say that he sat beside me to guide me through the route)
“Be careful. It’s dark, drive slowly. We do not need to rush”
“Keep left”
I shift to the middle lane from the right.
750m ahead… “What are you doing? You missed the left turn!”
You never said left “turn”? You said “left”.
“Do whatever you want!”
I keep driving straight following google Maps.
750m ahead… “See how he is driving…not even in a proper lane”
Yeah, I have seen you drive too. You also drive in the same way. I reacted, agitated.
Furious, he asked me to stop the car on the side.
He got down…
I thought he’ll say “you guys go, I’ll take an uber”.
But instead, he said, “you get down, I’ll drive”.
I let him drive the rest of the way but from inside I’m in emotional turmoil.
I came back home and closed my door with earphones on.
Did not speak to anyone.
Did not eat that night.
I was wholly focused on just this burning question:
“Why did I feel that way?”
“Why did I react that way while driving?”
I slept thinking on those questions.
The next day morning when I woke up, I found all the answers. I knew exactly why.
I felt that way because I “hoped” to drive.
I reacted that way because I was driving with a self-image “Rajat (Raj) drives well” in mind.
The next time when we went out 25km away, I had no hope or need to drive.
Whether I drove or not made no difference to me.
I did not carry any self-image with me either.
My Dad drove while going there. While returning, he asked me again “Do you want to drive?” (His friend standing beside him)
No! Dad, I think you should drive today…I said.
It was a perfect journey.
And, many perfect journeys followed thereafter…
