The very first car I had the pleasure of sitting in and moving was a Landmaster, a forefather of Ambassador, I think. The doors used to be slightly different. Believe it or not, one North Indian person whom we knew and worked as a peon in a government department and had lots of land in a nearby village just around 3 or so km away from Ramakrishnapuram owned this car. Whenever he visited us, he would take me and mostly my brother for a ride. A very short one, though. That was enough to give us a sense of pleasure and achievement. That village where he lived has become part of the bustling New Delhi City now, I understand. Very rarely have I seen cars, and that too other than Ambassadors and Fiats in Delhi. We had auto-rickshaws called scooters in Delhi and proper two-wheeled scooters which most of the ‘Sastrigals’ used in Delhi. Bus services had the reputation of being horrible in Delhi those days. Then how did people move about? I can keep wondering without an answer.

I don’t remember having traveled in a taxi at all in Delhi. Phut-Phutis with four-seater cabins with a Bullet Motorcycle in the front ran point-to-point services. Very convenient because only four people were allowed to sit in those days. And now? Maybe eight? Are they still running in Delhi? No idea.

Coming to Chennai, the experience seemed to change. We had to take a taxi from the station. We had temporarily stayed in a relative’s house before moving to a rented house. With a whole lot of things to carry around, suddenly there were frequent taxi trips.

Chennai yellow-black taxis were peculiar. Some of the cars I had never seen. There was the omnipresent Morris Minor, a tiny car that could, I think, probably with a lot of discomfort, accommodate four persons including the driver. The trunk was very small and curved and different-shaped. But a go-to taxi. Then there was the Standard 10, which looked like a matchbox to me. Very small and maximum four-seater. Trunk space again small. Ambassadors, of course. They are like cockroaches. Keep surviving over the decades. Very rarely have I seen a Fiat taxi, though there was a lingering desire to travel by that car. What difference would it make? I don’t know. It is just the shape of the car that attracts children to make them believe going by such a car would give more joy.

The Standard car factory, one of the few in India, was located in Chennai. And around 1962 or so, they came out with a cute box-like model, Standard Herald. And the school colleague with whom I used to travel, a neighbor about whom I had written earlier, first pointed out that car to me. So excited we were to see this new car. Later on, when I had occasions to sit in this car, I realized it made you feel as if you were sitting on the floor, so low it was.

Very occasionally, a Chettiar friend of ours, a classmate, would take us in his car and drop us near Sterling Road, where he had to pick up his sister from Good Shepherd Convent. So proudly, both my friend and I would go with him. And always look at him with awe for his family owning such an expensive car!

Continued in 287. Moving Models - Part 2