Jan 28, 2009

S, my driving instructor


... the second one, to be precise for the left hand drive here...the first one being the inconsequential guy who taught me how to drive a manual car, in the last century, but who did not almost hit me as S... thus his inconsequentiality...
and believe me, i remember S every single day when i negotiate bad traffic with a cool head, when i switch lanes effortlessly, when i drive confidently on a Round About, when i can manage a sharp turn with the least amount of jerk, all i do is to thank him silently for those loud hours of teaching, for those merciless evenings when i used to almost cry before leaving for the driving class...
i now know the benefits of a tough driving instructor...
my unfazed driving is solely his credit, rather the credit of his vocal chords...
and once i had the Licence in hand but still had not bought the car, thankfully B took me around... oops i took around B in his car and he was S's replacement, shouting and whipping (only with words, mind you) me to enable me to get over my road fear, all this after having given S a fat reward, since in his own words, "S has done what i have not -- shouted at you, without you retorting."
i just pretended not to hear... at times, i too know to keep quiet...

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