The Autobiography of A Scooty

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Apologies. I kept a word limit for this post,but somehow when I started typing, it kept going on and on, will try to keep my posts short, from now on 🙂

“Scooty pep plus (SPP). Plus. This is perhaps the only positive thing in me, in my name. I’m hardly a few years old, but if you see me, you’d think I was probably reaching the end of my life. Such is my deplorable state. I’ve been pushed and shoved and thrown and manhandled to the point of agony. I am not able to tolerate the hardships which I am undergoing almost on a daily basis, any longer. I’m seriously contemplating suicide. Yes. Please don’t stop me. If you were in my place, you would have killed yourself at least ten times. Ok. Now, for all those people who say I’m being selfish and not considerate enough to take such a drastic step, here’s the story of my Life.

 Stylish. Trendy. Elegant. This is how I was when I was introduced in the market. Oh, I do remember how the other Scooty families where insanely jealous of us. So jealous that, they would hang their head in shame and stand with their side stand, while, we the SPP family, stood high with pride with our center stand. People (yes, you mean human beings) never bothered to take a second look at the Scooty, once they saw us. We attracted customers with our colors and better facilities. And as I said, we all looked elegant. There was almost no competition for us.

One day, there was this customer who wanted to get a SPP for his wife and kids to drive. He took a look at our family and short listed me. I was happy, for I was taking a new step in my life, bade a tearful farewell to my family and stepped into the world to join my new family.

New family? Devils. Brats. That’s exactly what they were.  My whole world came crashing down on seeing them. Was this going to be my new family? The minute I entered, they all pounced on me, like how a Giant would pounce on his prey, after having nothing to eat for almost a month. I just felt like throwing up. Those idiots did not have the sense to try riding the SPP one by one. Think of it, 2 adults and 2 children, that too on my very first trip. I thought I was going to break apart, but it did not happen, God Bless those mechanical engineers who were handling and designing me. But I knew the day was not far.

Let me give you an insight on how everyone in the family treated me.

There were 5 people in the family. Grandfather, Father, Mother, Daughter and Son

Elders First. Have you heard of the cycle race? Not the one where, the one who reaches the end line the first is declared the winner, but the one where, the person who rides the slowest, without losing balance and the one to reach the line the last is declared the winner. This Grandfather would have definitely been a state champion in that is my guess, because that’s exactly how he kept driving the SPP. May be he thought it was not good for him, if the pointer went up to more than 20 in the speedometer. It was a shame for me to see other vehicles and even cycles over taking me.

The Father. This man hurt my ego, so whenever he rides, I try as much not to obey him unless of course my life is in danger. He once told me that I was no match for his Pulsar. I was so hurt from those comments; I even remained without petrol for a day. If I compare you with another human being will you like it? Yes or no? YES OR NOR? Then what is all this comparison about. Anyway, I hate to admit that he was the only one who could drive the SPP well, but I’m not going to give him any credits for it.

The Mother. She raises the accelerator and keeps pressing the brake both at the same time. “Woman, what are you trying to say, this is not multitasking alright?”I used to get confused, is she asking me to stop or go. Come on, someone asks you to run and try holding your left leg, how will you be able to run? And then she is the one who is controlling me, and for any mistake on her part, she would say, “Stupid SPP”.I would think, “Stupid woman, those who aren’t fit to drive a cycle are shouting at me. Fate”. She would drive in the center of the road, in below average speed and yell at others, who drive in the normal speed limits in main roads, who over- take her or come close to  crashing down. You know how embarrassing it is to get scolded by other people in front of other vehicles, that too with the mistake on this woman’s part? I don’t understand how she can think that she can never make a mistake and that it is always the mistake of the other person. Sigh.

The Daughter. She drives slowly when the road is empty, but drives in a rash manner when the roads are bad and when there are a lot of potholes in the road. She doesn’t know how to vary and control her speed and doesn’t know what speed suites a particular kind of road. This girl doesn’t know what a straight line is, she will drive diagonally in roads, confusing those behind her and she keeps honking so much. How much can I shout? Tell me. That too continuously? Every time she does that I’ll feel like twisting her hands and holding it till she shouts and screams with pain. Only then she’ll realize how difficult it is to scream continuously. For everything horn. She’s going left na, horn. Right na, horn. Horns during the turnings are ok, but all of a sudden she will honk, what will others think about me? She doesn’t have any consideration for my image at all. I don’t know why the whole family is conspiring against me. Heartless souls. 

The Son. He thinks he knows everything. When the signal turns red, he would go past other vehicles in a crazy way to go and stand first, near the stop line. When the signal turns green, he will drive slowly, but upon seeing the signal turn red, he thinks he owns John Abraham’s Bike in Dhoom and accelerates so hard, to cross the signal. “What were you doing all this while, when the signal was green? “And he is pathetic with managing time. If he is supposed to be at a place by 10, he’ll start from home only by 10.15. There is heavy traffic and all the roads in Chennai are not good, he somehow manages to find only those roads and he wants me to drive in 50kmph speed in a traffic jam. Any Sense? And on reaching late, he would say, “Illa Machan, Vandi Serila” (No Dude, There is a problem with the Vehicle) and pass the blame on me. Upon hearing this, other vehicles in the parking lot would throw me a mean dirty look, in a way of expressing their disgust. Do I need this? After working so hard and not letting down the family, do I need to suffer all this?

This is how the family treated me. At least after reading this, try to empathize with me. Tomorrow, I’m going to end my life. Please don’t attempt to stop me or save me. I can’t take it anymore. Pray that my soul should rest in peace.

Good Bye!

Scooty Pep Plus”

9 thoughts on “The Autobiography of A Scooty

Add yours

  1. @ jayendrasharan..Thank you. Glad that you enjoyed 🙂

    @ Mithlash..Thank you 🙂

    @ Shasha…Thanks 🙂

    @ Rajat..Oh is it, thank you 🙂

    @ Chintan.. 😀

    @ Swathi..It's better, actually 🙂


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