Any middle-class family’s modest dream for decades has always been a bangla (house) and gaadi (nothing else but a car).
Most of the hard-earned income of the household would be SAVED for these prized possessions to be annexed sometime in the future, apart from of course, for beti ki shaadi.
In my household, Papa bought his first car way back in the decade of the late seventies. I was a kid of 6-7 years old then. Possessing a car was a luxury then. We lived in a government quarter in the Steel township of Durgapur (W.B).
I remember having heard from Papa once that he purchased the car FIAT (1970 model) through second hand for Rs. 10,000 back then. He and his friends had leisurely gone to a car mela.
And he fell in love with it at first sight. The beautiful ash gray colored car looked so trendy, and in excellent running condition. When he brought home the car, it was the star attraction of our neighborhood.
People rarely even thought about buying a car in those days. They led a very contented life, using public transport like buses or at the most owning two-wheelers. Papa too had a Vespa scooter at that time.
Of course, he also used to go to his Steel Plant by bus. So, driving his car was reserved for the Sunday long drives or mostly to the weekend market, parks and temples. Sometimes he used to take us (Mummy, younger bro, and me) to some of his friend’s and family’s homes in the evening hours. At times, together we used to go for fun-filled picnics.
Papa drove his car expertly and also used to take great care in its maintenance. Every Sunday morning, it was a routine for him to scrub and wash off the car thoroughly, before taking a bath himself. I too used to help him by wiping out the glasses and some parts of the car lastly.
He could deftly hear any of the problematic sounds. Apart from the engine itself, each of the nuts and bolts outside and within the car had to be properly fixed, before he could enjoy smooth driving. Even all four wheels had to be in perfect condition, with a Stephany and a spare tire locked in the bonnet backside.
I have countless memories of trips to all the sundry places, sitting in Papa’s car and rolling down the clear glass window to feel the fresh air or to cover up from the drizzle.
Our car has journeyed interstate boundaries several times, thanks to the finest driving skills of my father. When Papa resigned from the plant in Durgapur (W.B), he drove to his next stint nearby Ranchi (Jharkhand) from there.
A decade later, when he left that place too, he drove from Ranchi to Bhandara (M.S), near Nagpur. As a family, we enjoyed those trips, sitting with the packed belongings.
From Bhandara sometime in 2001, Papa drove the car to Pune and used it there for more than a year. And finally, in early January 2003, along with Mummy he arrived in Raipur driving the car.
When we were in Bhandara, it was much easier for us to travel to our native towns in Chhattisgarh (5-6 hours road drive), and keep in touch with all our relatives. This was about three decades ago, at the start of the nineties. By then Papa had changed the color of the car to creamish white.
When Mummy passed away due to an Asthma attack in Raipur on 26th Jan 2003; in this very car, Papa took her dead body. He placed her securely in the back seat, to be given last rites in our ancestral village. While he drove the car, my husband and I sat beside him in the front seat.
All three of us sat grimly and numb, with Mummy behind in her last journey in it, who also must have had countless loving memories attached to this car, with Papa and us children. The header picture is the testimony of those memorable moments.
At the backdrop of a dam, I was leaning at the car, along with Mummy and kid bro sitting on it. Papa captured this moment with his camera, which was his other prized possession apart from the car. He was very fond of photography too.
In the subsequent years, Papa bought two cars within ten years, Indica and later Santro, in exchange for the older car. But none of them gave him and us grown-up children the most cherished fond memories as our beloved first car FIAT, by which our souls were bound.
The Momma Clan 
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