Daniel Pedrosa has had his arm operated upon successfully and has started the process of recovery. He is expected to be fit for the next race at Estoril. That is indeed good news for he seems to be the only one capable of staying with Casey Stoner when the latter is in full cry. We don’t want races for second place do we?
Yearly Archives: 2011
Mark Webber’s lack of performance relative to Sebastian Vettel is not because of car problems according to Christian Horner. He claims that Webber has never been successful in his home race. Wonder what Helmut Marko’s take on this is going to be?
Everyone now knows that TATA Groups money went literally down the Albert Park drains in Melbourne in the opening race of the Formula 1 2011 season. The TATAs are sponsoring Narain Kartikeyan’s return to F1 by dishing out a few million dollars to Hispania Racing. In return the team gave its drivers a car that could not come within the 107% time of the pole setting car and with the return of that rule from this year on. Sepang should be even more difficult with its long straights that allow faster runs. Another non qualifying performance would be disastrous. However, Dr. Colin Kolles, the team Principal is confident that HRT will finish ahead of Team Lotus and Virgin Racing.
Every one of you who have watched the second Motogp of the race at Jerez will remember Rossi’s overtaking move under Casey Stoner leading to his (Rossi’s) bike low siding and taking Casey Stoner out of the race. Those of you who watched the race carefully would also have seen Stoner remonstrating with the track marshals and sarcastically applauding Rossi as he went by after he had picked up his bike. Rossi gestured an apology, went into Stoner’s pit garage and heard him say a few nasty things. Fair enough, considering the fact that he got punted out will Rossi was able to remount and get to fifth. But Stoner has given a new twist to the whole thing by saying that Rossi also enjoys the support of marshals so much so that they pushed Stoner away into the gravel when his bike was still running in the past, and that at Jerez they refused to help him restart the bike. He claims that this is something all riders have to face. Strong accusation that, but we all know how Motogp fans (not just Rossi fans) applauded Stoner when he has crashed and booed and jeered him when he won. Eurocentrism is still alive perhaps. This should be a grim reminder to other riders to not fall.
You have to agree that RBR or Red Bull Racing keeps fans of F1 suitably entertained even when there is no race happening. Helmut Marko with his Sebastian Vettelisms and anti Webberisms keeps everybody amused. Remember last year when he accused Webber of taking Vettel out of a race when it was Vettel who took Webber out of the race? A slightly unhappy Lewis Hamilton (after the first race in Melbourne) claimed that Red Bull was just a drinks company and did not have the pedigree of either Ferrari or McLaren. (He seems to have forgotten that it was the same Adrian Newey now at RBR, who turned McLaren when they were having free fall a decade and more ago into a winning team again). Marko, the opportunist does not lose an opportunity for controversy so he decides to kill two birds with one sentence. He claimed that RBR would love to have Hamilton alongside Vettel. Don’t know what happened to Mark Webber or Lewis Hamilton but RBR Team Principal Christian Horner has had a panic attack of sorts and has hastily said that Lewis Hamilton and Sebastian Vettel in the same team will be the script of what happened at McLaren when Alonso and Hamilton were together. So he said that he would like to let things be at least for the time being. Panic attack and all is alright but did Horner somehow forget that Vettel and Webber were hitting out at each other rather than hitting it of together?
Somebody had said that Ducati had pulled out as a factory team from World Superbike racing. It seems like the same somebody forgot to tell that to Fillippo Preziosi because he seems to be delivering factory spec Ducatis to Team Althea Racing. The first two rounds of Superbike racing have shown Checa dominate with Motogp refugee Marco Melandri doing rather well at Yamaha. He has won a race and has a second position. Biaggi is meanwhile increasingly getting lost in the wilderness and his performances have been less than pedestrian. He was in fact disqualified from one of the last two races for a jump start and not heeding a drive through penalty. It should be interesting to see which things will go in Superbikes. Kawasaki have shown promise with the new ZX-10R with a one good result each from the four races for Tom Sykes and new signing Joan Lascorz. Sadly however, Chris Vermeulen is still nowhere near total fitness and has missed out the first two rounds
Ever since Allan Mulally, the ex-Boeing man took over Ford he has been talking of One Ford strategy. Meaning that Ford will cut down on the number of platforms in different parts of the world and will have the same model lineup with small changes in all parts of the world. Apparently as a part of this strategy India will get the new Fiesta Sedan, this having been confirmed by Ford India. In order to accommodate the new Fiesta the existing Fiesta is supposed to acquire a “Classic” suffix. Motoring Journos who have received invitation for an invitation from Ford India for an event today i.e the 7th of April, 2011 are conjecturing that this event is for the announcement of the Ford India strategy vis-à-vis the two Fiestas. Let us see how the tale unfolds today.
It was a hot and stifling summer night, pregnant with the promise of rain on a parched, cracked Earth. The winds whispered a silent prayer as they went about their work, waiting and watching. The tarmac shone bright under the stray moonlight. I craned my head at the sky and had an insane desire to howl at the moon. I sniffed the air. Yes, tonight is the night.
I was in the middle of nowhere really. Outskirts of the city at two in the night, on a route which is rarely frequented by truckers and is better known for being a virgin strip to motorcyclists and drivers, I was at an all night tea – shack just by the side of the road. The only sounds were those of the crackle of the firewood as the flames licked up the sides of the kettle, a transistor playing a long forgotten tune and me sipping on the sweet, hot kaawa brewed up by the Kashmiri tea guy, wondering at his persistence in pursuing his livelihood. The jacket felt warm at best, and hot at worst. I stared into the horizon, unclipping the cigarette from my ear, and lit it. A steady drone from a distance grew in my ear. My life was about to change, I was just too foolish to not see it already.
The drone turned into a roar. I could almost breathe in the acrid smell of the smoke now. The custom made chambers gave out a foot-long tongue of fire as the revs climbed. Rider and motorcycle slung-shot past me as I stared at a white trail of smoke. Not good. Frantic phone call ensues. Squeal squeal. I see the rider in black and his White Stallion fishtail, steady and slowly, purposefully, take a u-turn. White Stallion and rider comes back to where I am standing.
I stare. I stare. When am done staring, I stare some more.
Some folks have the habit of sipping on stuff. Some of them gulp it down. And some gulp, then regurgitate and chew the cud, so to speak. I am of the third kind. I take it all in, in gulps and mouthfuls. The smooth flowing lines and the curves. The light from the stove bouncing off the chrome on the oddly shaped chambers. The low, forward reach handlebars. The round, big headlight. Then stop and stare at the details. The White Stallion. The legendary letters “350 Torque Induction” stand out. The black thin double lines surrounding the words Rajdoot add layers to the motorcycle’s character. The headlight cover proclaiming Yamaha Japan, the plastic scoops glinting with the touch of wax and hours of polishing. Heart achingly exotic. Heart breakingly beautiful.
Done drinking in the details, all the while on my haunches, I stand up, stretching the cramped muscles. The motorcycle seems to be growing in stature every time I look at her, beckoning me to sit astride her, to ride, to burn rubber, towards freedom from all I hold dear. I ask the rider. He says, “Sure, but she is going to turn twenty five this year. Be careful.”
I seat myself on the comfortable leather seats. Put the keys inside and gently twist. There is a gentle click as the key locks into position. I pray to the Holy Trinity. I push down the kicker and give it one soft quick kick. The engines roar into life.
Let me take a moment here and explain what the roar of a street bred, ported and chambered RD 350 sounds like. The roar that goes up is not unlike the one you head often in war cinemas, of a hundred Heavy Machine Guns, Uzis and Lugers firing at random. There are gurgles, missed clicks, chains of bullets being fed into the guns as the fingers stay depressed on the trigger and the safety catch stay locked into an On position. A brilliant cacophony of sounds, if you may. You can hear it from a mile off, the din heavy enough to raise hell, and yet musical enough to set the adrenaline pumping in the meekest of us. In one word, it is ecstasy.
I take in the large round dials of the speedo and tacho. I take in the customized FZ handlebars, which will give it the much needed weight-in-the-front distribution to handle the extra power and torque. I gently depress the clutch and engage the first gear. Rotate the throttle a bit and dump the clutch.
The feeling is gut wrenching. The wrists groan in agony as my right palm straddles the throttle on a lock, two fingers on the brake. Four thousand, clutch, switch, second gear. The cacophony settles down into an arrogant drone.
The winds play around my ears as I try to decipher a sudden burst of unintelligible sounds. My mind shrinks away, confused and searching for a plausible explanation. No! It cannot be real. And yet it is. It is the motorcycle. She starts talking to me.
“Hunch over, twist away, let me see what you got.”
Five thousand, clutch, switch, third now. Whispers which I thought was voices in my head turn out to be real. The motorcycle starts grumbling.
“Aah, you old woman, come on! Hunch over, these old bones have it in them still! “
I decide to go the whole hog.
Hunch down completely, look over the dashboard, a quick flick of the neck to check for oncoming traffic on either side, and I downshift back into second to tap into the torque band and give her the stick. She flies. Despite the frontal weight, despite the hunch-over, despite everything, the front lifts off. I grip the tank with the thighs as my knees lock into position awkwardly under the tank. A soft prayer escapes my lips as I understand that I can barely whisper, the lips and the mouth seem parched, on fire.
Five thousand, six thousand, seven thousand, ninety kilometres an hour. Upshift quickly, third now, back on the throttle, eight thousand. I hear a bloodcurdling scream from the engine as the needle effortlessly climbs to one hundred and twenty kilometres an hour. More whip.
Have you had those times in your life, when you desperately pray to God to rescue you, I mean really pray, because you certainly do not have the skillsets to do it yourself? I have. That time when I nearly skidded into a ditch because I missed an oil-spill in the middle of a curve, and that time when I took on mighty Joe in school, who stood a clean foot above me and could pound me to a pulp if he wanted to?
That moment passes me by. The head barely over the instrument cluster, I start to pray again. The power-band is still meaty, but it is just beginning to show the signs of tapering off. More throttle. One hundred and thirty two kilometres an hour. And climbing. I have an estimated two kilometres in front of me before I hit end of this road. I decide to give it everything I have got. Brakes, slow down a bit, and shift back to second, a bone jarring jerk and a slight fishtail as the transmission gets used to a new set of cogs. Throttle wide open. Things around me start to get blurry, as the needle, after dropping back to eighty, starts to climb. One hundred and ten, twelve, fifteen, clutch, upshift, third gear, one hundred and twenty. One hundred and twenty seven. I flick my eyes from the road to the speedo and back. Clutch, Upshift, fourth. One hundred and thirty, thirty three, forty.
I am at the end of the road, where a downhill stretch begins. Non existent drum brakes be damned, low powered headlights be damned, worn out treads be damned, the smell of blood thickened as I sniffed in the acrid fumes. Clutch, downshift, back on third. Squeal, squeal. The Stallion roars as I feel the heat from the chambers seeping into my pants. Holy fish, did I just bust the pistons? A whisper stirs up again, lores of days past and glories yet to be seen, as the front fork lifts effortlessly, even in third gear! One hundred and twenty five, twenty seven, thirty one, thirty five. Downhill continues effortlessly. One hundred and thirty eight, thirty nine, forty, forty two, forty five, fifty, fifty two. The body screams from having hunched over, and I feel like I am watching myself from a distance. I chicken out and decide that it is enough.
A blast of warm air hits me squarely in the face and on the chest as the motorcycle stabilizes herself and starts to climb down from madness, retracing my steps. I bring her to a stop in front of the tea-shack and to the rider. I get off the motorcycle gingerly. He is busy working his cigarette and tries to stop grinning.
Pit stops demand that we sit down and discuss the fine points. I am unable to speak for a full three minutes. The heart is still hammering away in the pits of my chest cavity.
My introduction to the legendary RD 350 will be a sweet memory etched in my mind forever. Uptil then, I loved motorcycles, sure. I adored them. I loved their lines, their curves. Their power to thrill. Their cult status, and what they are capable of doing.
But never in my life could I even imagine that a motorcycle could literally talk to you. Tell you whispers of days gone by. Tales of battles fought and won. Promises of what can still be done. Like in your ear. Like in your head.
I became a believer.
A hot summer afternoon. Sweat beads tickling down your face. Your fingers impatiently drumming on your car’s steering wheel. Clutch pressed, the first gear is slotted in place. Your eyes anxiously fixed at an elevated structure on top of a pole at the corner of the road. And then, something blinks on top of the pole. There is a change of colour. You heave a sigh of relief and release the clutch and you are on your way across the traffic signal.
Most of you reading this would have been through the above written scenario. It has become a part of our daily lives. It’s something that we’ve come to expect so very often in our daily commute. The three colours on the traffic lights are arguably some of the most significant in modern day motoring.
But have we ever given a thought to the importance we give to them? By we, I mean the people of India. Because the kind of on-road behavior that we tend to see in this country of ours is sometimes appalling, to say the least.
I have lived a major portion of my life in Chennai. And thanks to my father’s job, I have had the pleasure of having been to some of the other major cities in our country. Mumbai, Kolkata, Bangalore, Lucknow, Ahmedabad and Kochi to name a few. As they say, India is a vastly diverse country. And so, all the cities that I have mentioned here are equally diverse. But there was one common parameter across all. The on-road behavior left much to be desired in all these cities.
Of course, in a comparative study some cities would score better than the others. But the truth is that there is some serious lack of discipline in the way we drive in this country.
There has been so much talk about the economic boom, the increase in the buying power of the middle class, the number of professionals that we manage to churn out every year… But while all this is good and is leading the way to a more enlightened and dynamic Indian public, there are still some things which we take for granted. Things that we have not made an effort to change. The on-road behavior belongs to that category.
The other day while I was waiting at a busy signal in Chennai, there was this person in a beautiful Honda Accord, exuding a very ‘executive’ look, alongside me. When the digital timer above the traffic signal reached 10 and began counting down to 0, this person began to slowly inch forward. And he kept doing that till he almost hit a last minute intersection passer. By the time the lights had turned green and he had disappeared out of sight.
Why? Why in the world would somebody do that? I just cannot make up my mind to believe that somebody, in an effort to make up 10 seconds, would risk the possibility of an accident.
This kind of behavior is very common nowadays. Mostly you would find that by the time the timer has reached 0, the first row of vehicles waiting at the signal would have already inched their way towards the other end. And then they speed off as if they were in a drag race.
I was in Lucknow recently. And believe it or not, this city was the inspiration for me writing this. Even though I have felt that the on-road behavior in our cities is bad, it was Lucknow which made me realize that I hadn’t seen anything before this and that things can actually be worse.
Seriously, apart from maybe one or two signals in the main city, every other signal is treated by people as if they are some multi coloured lamps put up for those grand celebrations. The lights are absolutely irrelevant. I was aghast when I first saw it. There were buses, trucks, cars, bikes, rickshaws and people, all crossing from every possible direction to every other direction. It was as if the circle and the traffic signal were more of a hindrance to the movement of these people rather than them being enablers of their orderly and free movement. My friends told me that some of the other cities are even worse. I can’t imagine how that would be.
On similar lines, it is also common to disrespect the signal if found that there are no policemen around. This is supposedly being looked up as a macho behavior by the current day youth. Like I said earlier, I just don’t see the point in this activity of breaking the rules.
There have been instances when people crossing the road on the zebra line were given scowls and were bad mouthed upon by passing motorists. Like every other country, ours too gives the first preference to pedestrians when crossing the road. And these rules have been taught to us right at the primary school level of education. However the sad fact is that majority of our drivers are either ignorant of that fact or they simply don’t know. One of my friends had a funny experience during his first visit to the U.S. He wanted to cross a road and he was gingerly waiting at the side waiting for a gap in the traffic when a huge bus suddenly came to a halt beside him. He was wondering if he had done something wrong, but then he experienced something that he was rather not used to. The bus driver was waving his hand and asking him to cross the road!
This incident might seem to be something surprising for us but it is the actual procedure that that driver has followed. It is only the practice that we have got so used to in India that is making us think otherwise.
The problem lies in the thinking. We have grown up watching others behave the same way on the road. And we are now looking at it as if that is the ONLY way to behave at a signal. It is not that we lack the discipline. We have the self discipline and life skills to lead a very efficient life. Why can’t we incorporate the same thing into our on-road behavior? In the developed countries, when rules are made, people have no second thoughts about following them. But sadly in our country, we tend to look at exceptions to the rule or loopholes or blindly act as if the rules are made for every other person other than us.
The way out of this problem? It’s simple – Awareness.
Spread the awareness. Get it clear that RULES are RULES. And that there are no plus or minus deviation percentages to it. The following are some basic steps which I believe, if we follow, will make our roads much more secure.
The STOP line is for you to stop behind it and not 10 feet after.
Respect the traffic light. Stop if the light is amber and it is about to change to red rather than making a desperate dash to get to the other side.
The Zebra crossing is for the pedestrians to cross the road and for the vehicles to stop and it is not the other way around.
Consider the other vehicles on the road. Understand that even they too have as much right to be on that road as you do.
One must move his vehicle only AFTER the timer has reached zero and/or the lights have turned green and not inch his way across the signal after having verified that there are no policemen in sight.
And most importantly, drive with common sense.
This list is nowhere near exhaustive. It is up to the individual to exercise his discipline in other areas of life also on to the road.
I could have presented a different view by saying that hefty fines can be levied on erroneous drivers so that it might set up an example to others. But I think it has to be inculcated in each and every person. It has to be driven by each individual.
It is a challenging task, no doubt about that. But it is a challenge worth taking. Because at the end of this task, we will be able to reduce the number of accidents and mishaps. Which in turn would lead to making our roads safer and better. Let us strive to make it happen.
The engine note was metallic. That was understandable because it was a new engine. I was proud of my new Unicorn. So was my friend, of his. He had got his, one and a half years before mine.
We were on the East Coast Road, fondly called as the ECR by the people of Chennai. The road was famous for its scenic route along the sea coast to Pondicherry, now called as Puducherry. It was late evening. And we were taking my new bike on its first long exercise. The horizon was lighting up every now and then with streaks of lightning. It presented a striking contrast against the backdrop of the setting sun. There was a cool breeze blowing towards us. We realized that it might have been raining somewhere. In short, the setting for the ride was fantastic.
We didn’t plan to drive all the way to Pondy, but we also didn’t plan as to how much farther we should get away from Chennai. The ride was so captivating that we felt like going on forever. My bike was just beginning to finish the run in period. My friend and I decided that we will push the bike to take it near to the three figure mark and see how it does.
My friend had no problems of speeding off in his, as his bike was already in perfectly tuned state. I gingerly began to increase the speed, taking care to see that I do it linearly. As I approached the three figure mark, I made sure that I was not hearing any signs of engine straining. I was prepared to slow down the moment I heard any such signs.
But the bike behaved as if it was much more inclined to do it than I was. The speedo needle kept climbing almost effortlessly and before I knew it, the world was a total blur and I was heading toward 110 km/h. Both of us slowed down and discussed the coming of age of my baby.
Now that it had been done once, we had the feeling that it could be done again. This time we exchanged bikes. We did it again and stopped to discuss how the bike was behaving.
I guess we got a bit carried away by this whole exercise. Because the more we did it, the more we began to look at other riders on the road with our collars pulled up, as if we were dare devils and the others were poor mere mortals.
And then, even as we were riding along at 100 km/h with these thoughts in mind, something happened. We heard a roar and something whizzed right past us. I trained my eyes on the fleeting vehicle and all I could decipher before it disappeared, was the image of a silver horse on its hind legs in yellow background. I froze at the realisation of what had just overtaken us. I stopped and and made myself realise that I had just been passed by a product of one of the most traditional, coveted and prized car manufacturers of all times. I had just been passed by a Ferrari.
Looking back at it now, I believe the purpose of the Ferrari there was to make us keep our feet back on the ground. We were getting carried away by doing a 100 km/h on a bike but what had overtaken us was probably capable of doing three times as such. By whizzing past us, the Ferrari had made a statement. It had said, “Get out of my way, boys” and literally, dismissed us from its presence.
I am not doing a comparison here between a 150 cc bike and a multi cylinder car. What I am trying to project is how we realise how minor or small certain things are, when we understand what exactly is the current world standard.
As I think in these lines, it makes me wonder about the current car market in India and the thinking of the Indian public and how it matches up to the world standard.
What was basically a market with just three main players and minimal consumer considerations a couple of decades ago, is now a fast growing, consumer centric multibillion rupee marketplace. With numerous options to choose from and a variety of trim levels for each model, the Indian car consumer is probably at his best possible position.
But what I would like to discuss here is not the growth of the Indian car industry, but rather a certain aspect of it which has been becoming increasingly visible in the recent times. I am talking about the launch of more and more powerful cars which were not a frequent occurrence till about a couple of years ago.
Car launches in India have been taking place at a brisk pace. Some of them stripped down versions of their foreign counterparts and outdated models from their parent concerns. But one thing was evident in all these launches. The fact is that almost all these cars were built or revamped keeping one thing in mind – economy. This was understandable, as India was a growing market. And lower running cost was the primary parameter in the minds of the buyer. More so, in the small car market, as this segment constitutes for about 70% of India’s total car sales. The rising fuel prices, well, added more fuel to the fire.
Engines were detuned or lesser complex ones were used in an effort to reduce prices. Cars which were sold with the latest engines with more power outside were being sold with basic lesser powerful ones here. The VW Polo is a very good example. If VW wanted to bring the 1.2 TSI engine to India, it would have taken the price of that car through the roof.
When it comes to the need or rather, the lack of need for higher powered cars, the mindset of the market was right. The density of multi lane highways in our country capable of providing high speed travel is very less. I have heard people, who had been to the west, complaining about the lack of power in cars in India. But considering the conditions in India, there was nothing to complain about. The cars in India were the right ones for our roads. There was simply no need for more powerful ones as there were simply no roads to drive them at high speeds.
But things are slowly changing.
The government has been making plans and implementing the development of four to six lane highways at many places in the country. Even though these works are taking place at a painstakingly slow rate, the signs of the times to come are definite. One drive on any of these new highways and the realisation is immediate. We are going to be able to drive much faster, at least between cities.
I remember the days when I had heard complaints from a friend of mine who found it difficult to overtake a bus in front of him when he was cruising in the top gear of his Tata Indica diesel on a new national highway. He was bad mouthed by an oncoming truck driver as he was only moving parallel with the bus and not able to overtake it in spite of his feet being firmly planted on the accelerator. He had to frantically downshift and rev hard before being able to pass the bus. The same is the story with other small cars. They are apt for city cruising, but if you take them on a highway, you will not be able to sustain high speeds in them. And the car will clearly let you know that it is not happy doing what you are forcing it to. There will be wails, shudders and groans. Try taking an Alto to 120 kmph and you will know what I mean. The drives on these new highways demand cars which can not only cruise anywhere between 100 – 150 kmph, but also have the ability to overtake at these speeds. And hence, we have the need for cars with more power. In my opinion, at least 100 bhp under the hood.
The signs have been evident for the past few years. Fiesta 1.6 petrol and the SX4 came out with 100+ BHP engines. The advertising campaign for the SX4 itself gives us a hint. With captions like ‘Men Are Back’, the emphasis was laid on the more powerful engine. The Optra Magnum followed suit with a 121 PS diesel engine which was new for a mid range car.
This trend has trickled down to cars in the lower segments as well. If we compare two cars from Maruti’s stable, the Zen and the Swift (both from different generations), we can see that these two cars essentially served the same segment for Maruti – the premium hatchback category. But look at the engines used in these cars. One had a 60 HP engine whereas the latest one has an 85HP engine. Fiat started off by offering the 1.6 on the Palio and even though it was not very successful, VW and Skoda have started offering big engine counterparts to their hatches. And we are now hearing rumours that Ford might bring out a Figo 1.6. And their to-be-launched new Fiesta is supposed to be more powerful and efficient than the current generation. The Hyundai RB is also supposed to have more powerful engine options.
All these clearly indicate that the market is slowly but steadily understanding the changing needs of the consumer. Of course, there have been people like me who have been shouting for eternity regarding the need for more powerful cars. But that was the “car freak” in me. And it was understandable that the car companies did not want to experiment for just a handful of people like me. But now, the situation is different. There is a shift in the driving pattern and a car manufacturer that does not understand this and does not serve it, is likely to be left behind.
The slow but definite willingness to make latest technical advances available in India in a cost effective manner, is also helping in this direction. Because these advances mean more efficiency. Which leads to more kilometers per litre without compromising on the power output. The 1.2 K Series engine from Maruti, is a classic example.
Currently, the number of cars in the Indian market with more than a 100 HP on tap and which is accessible for a majority of the car buying public is not very high. But this for sure is going to change. In fact, it has to change. It is a very pleasing sign for car buffs like me.
As I come to the end of these ponderings of mine, I am wondering how ‘being passed by a Ferrari’ made me think in these lines. Maybe, it’s because Ferrari is considered as the epitome by many, when it comes to sheer driving pleasure, which is a result of the power, handling and design.
The cars in India are not heading towards the Ferrari power range. It would be criminal to even think in those terms. But, the point is that cars in India are becoming more powerful. Because, the highways are growing. And, in these highways, the roads are wider. There is lesser congestion. There are more straight lines. And, when there are more straight lines, there is the basic human instinct to move faster. And, when you want to move faster, you stomp the accelerator. And, when you stomp the accelerator, you expect the car to lurch forward. Not hear the sound of engine shuddering and feel that bits and pieces of the car are going to fall off. Which brings us back to the primary need. The need for power.
Maybe, in the near future, most of us can expect to be in cars which can cruise effortlessly at speeds in excess of the three figure mark. Which can overtake at the slightest pressure on the accelerator and do it with a definitive hum and elegance. Which can inspire confidence and put a smile on the face of people like me and you.
‘Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely’, goes the famous phrase. It had corrupted my mind long ago. In fact, power and the need for it is the one of the reasons this magazine exists in the first place. And, I am sure it is going to corrupt the minds of millions of others in this country too.