Only If I Could Drive ‘Our Car’

'I really want to learn how to drive a car. Will you teach me?' I had asked. And my husband laughed as though I had cracked a silly joke.

It’s been raining relentlessly since last night. This morning has dawned gloomy yet refreshing. I walk towards the kitchen. I know you’re in the bathroom, too excited to catch the flight for your crucial official meeting.

As I fix a quick breakfast, my eyes land outside the window. A white car stands, taking a shower in the rain.

Our first car.

‘I like the red one,’ I had said as we checked different cars at the showroom nine months ago, right after our wedding.

‘That’s too bright and girlish. White is good.’ Your response was firm and blunt.

So, we came back home, with a white car.

You’re now in the bedroom, getting dressed, humming.

‘I really want to learn how to drive a car. Will you teach me?’ I had asked the other day. And you laughed as though I had cracked a silly joke.

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Women are terrible drivers. It’s better if they sit in the passenger’s seat.’ With this taunt, you dismissed my desire to drive our car.

Your phone blares and it snaps me out of my thoughts. You are talking to someone, agitated.

Tea is almost done. I drop a crushed cardamom into it, and a delicious aroma permeates the kitchen.

‘It’s raining. Let’s go for a long drive!’ I had said last week.

‘Oh come on! Don’t be childish,’ you had said and changed the channel.

‘How can you cancel at the last moment?’ You’re almost shouting. ‘So what if it’s raining? I have a flight ―damn it!’

‘What happened?’ I place the teacup on the table.

‘The cab cancelled the ride because, well, it’s raining!’ You make another call. Your attempts yield no positive results.

Back in the kitchen, I squeeze half a lemon over steaming Poha and carry the plate to the dining table.

‘Nobody wants to go. What am I going to do now? I can’t afford to miss the flight!’ You chide, pacing across the room. Poha, forgotten and soon will be cold too. ‘You can take your own car,’ I suggest.

‘Brilliant idea. And who is going to drive the car back?’

‘I can do that.’


‘Yes, you don’t know, but… I have learned how to drive. I have a driving licence as well.’ I say calmly, while excitement brews inside my mind.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Do you have options? Any better options?’

At the airport parking, you instruct me. ‘Drive carefully. I hope you remember the route. Go straight home.’

No! This weather is too good to go home. I am going for a long drive, and I am going to do childish things. But I won’t tell you that.

‘Of course dear…’

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About the Author

Tarang Sinha

Tarang Sinha is a Delhi based writer, translator and painter. She's the author of We Will Meet Again. She has translated a book titled 'Don't You Quit' published by Westland Books. Her articles read more...

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