There I was, nodding along, and occasionally smiling, trying to keep the conversation rolling, without me contributing anything to it. And when I thought I was on safe ground, I put in a sentence, “That yellow Skoda also looked good”. Deathly silence follows, 5 heads turn simultaneously and 10 eyes rest on me – mocking me, I want to dig a hole and hide in it. Then a voice booms, “Idiot, that was an Octavia”. I am exposed. The group knows about my car-illiteracy.
I am generally comfortable with any conversation. Talk about Music, I’ll tell you that Pink Floyd really rocks on the Sarangi; talk about Movies, and I’ll tell you that Harry Potter almost died at Mordor in Spiderman-II; talk about Books, I’ll regale you with the antics of Sherlock Holmes; talk about Food, and I’ll teach you how to make Vegetarian Chicken Tikka… You get the drift; I am pretty good at conversation except when it comes to cars.
There are some people who by just looking at the screw of the spare wheel lying in the boot can tell you that the car is Ford Mustang GT, make 1967, the car has had ten repairs, the driver is 37 years old, and the car is shiny-silver. No! I am not kidding, there are people who can do this. My kid-brother (of the infamous 9-word essay fame) is one of them. He would take one look at some part, actually any part, of any car and rattle of statistics about it as if he himself has made the car! And then I have some friends who talk about drift, engine-capacity and some such weird stuff with such fascination and passion that for a moment I am left bewildered are they talking about cars or Elisha Cuthbert?
Me? Land the whole car in front of me and I would not be able to tell you what model the car is. I may be able to recognize Maruti-800, but then again Uno/Zen/Alto all look like that! Similar is the case with bikes, I can recognize my own Splendour, apart from that, I would not be able to name a bike/car if needed to save my life. Predominantly I have been a part of a guys-only-group and a large part of our intellectual conversations revolve around the cylinders & chassis of the machines; actually it is not *our conversations* per se, it is more of their conversations and my time to wander off in the la-la land.
I’d better learn Greek; rather then try “How to recognize a car/bike from a spare part?”