After several rounds of pestering, loud psychotic episodes and serious discussions, my dad finally decided to accompany me in his car, the only change, this time while I drive. By the way, I have a license, but I never got the opportunity to drive, since my father has trust issues. Well, what can I say?
To ward off any boredom and for moral support, dad decided to bring along an unhappy Danny (Danny is my dachshund and sleeps 14 hours a day), who was half asleep in his cage. They got in the backseat and settled down.
We started on a fine morning on the Malampuzha-Kava road. There were chirping birds, clear waters of the reservoir, and green foliage with yellow strewn here and there — definitely a sight to behold. We were so awestruck by the serene beauty when out of the rocks jumped a 2-wheeler guy. “Watch it, woman,” I heard the usual loud rant from the guy.
Well, what he was completely unaware of was how I had to stand on the brakes and was an inch away from sending him into the dam waters. I let out a sigh of relief, at least he wasn’t being abusive. Most women face such denigrating scenarios on the road where men belittle them for their driving skills, which perhaps further dents our confidence. I figured you should have the staunch determination to face intimidation and criticism or else you are doomed. It’s all about rectifying your mistakes and learning from them.
I turned to see my father puffed up and perspiring. He responded, “You have to be exceptionally alert or the two-wheelers will rush out of nowhere.” We reached the entrance to Anakal, beset with a U-pin curve. As we approached the same, my dads’ running commentary was filling my brain. I turned the steering wheel for what seemed like an eternity.
His car protested in return, the engines turned off. To my utter dismay, we were parked in the middle of the road in a zigzag way. I immediately restarted the wheel, adjusted the steering and released the brakes, and we resumed the voyage again. Phew! That went well. My dad mentored me to check out for any vehicle from the opposite direction that could have crashed into us. So, he said, I should make a bigger radius while turning. Duly noted.
The rest of the journey was eventless, with a few instances of two-wheeler guys steering away from our car for their dear lives as soon as they spotted a woman driver inside. Well, good for them. It’s their fault that we were negated a chance to learn a basic life skill. Being subservient to men is a thing of the past and we are not doing it anymore, girls!
The next lesson was about dealing with the mindless honking. “You go too slow, woman,” shouted one of the male drivers on the road. I mouthed a thank you in return, to which the irritated guy shook his head in disbelief and sped away. My dad instructed, “Never get intimidated by honking. If someone’s in a hurry, give them the space to overtake, never accelerate upon honking.”
A life lesson came with this piece of advice — never let someone rush you into something that you are not ready for. Make it slowly through the curves. Danny was loudly snoring by the time we reached Anakal.
The next part of the journey was scary. We had to go down a steep muddy slope. I had no idea such slopes existed in the world. The steepness, I felt, led directly to the bottom of my heart. We parked on the narrow road and contemplated if I could make it down the road without killing no one. I summoned whatever courage I had left in me, revved up the engine and turned. To my horror, a curious pedestrian was crossing the narrow path from nowhere. I jumped and froze. My dad immediately took the wheel from me and I got an earful for being a scarred bunny. My reply, “Shit happens.” I could figure out that he was not happy with this.
Finally, we made it back in one piece with the lesson — we need to be brave in taking risks. As women, we have narrowed down a set of choices to choose from. Never take for granted whatever you have been given to live your life. Instead of backing out, make it a point to face the challenge head-on and feel yourself grow.
On the way back, my father turned a curve and swerved the vehicle to avoid colliding with a car coming from the opposite direction, not to mention the angry honking we got in response. To which came my fathers’ classy reply, “Shit happens.” I confirmed without a jiffy of doubt, I was his daughter. Danny slowly woke up from his slumber amid all the commotion. He put his snout out of the window and was clearly enjoying the view, fresh air flapping his ears.
FYI, after days of committing these mistakes and being yelled at, I can now proudly say that I can drive in city traffic or U-pin curves without an ounce of doubt in my mind about my driving ability. And that is because I decided to never back down.