I now have a Mercedes Benz CLK convertible!
Being in Germany, I have lived several of my dreams. But owning a convertible was so luxurious and expensive a dream, I never even dreamed of it. But now I have one. Of my own!
It all started with my desire to drive mum around when she visited me. I applied to get my German driving license way back in April this year. After several jump-starts, I did enroll for driving classes. I was so bad at following the rules around here, and with the manual gear transmission that I felt there will be no way I would get the license. But I chugged along, and soon I was ready to take the practical test. When I enrolled, one day before the exam my trainer got a call. They told him I did not need to take the practical test. No one knows the reason for why I was given the honor, but here I was with the coveted German driving license without taking the damned and very difficult test. My colleagues have flunked, and fretted, but I sailed through!
So, I was able to finally drive my mum back to the airport in October!
Now comes the unthinkable. A colleague of mine merely referred me to the office bulletin board that had an ad for an Alfa Romeo. It was black, with red leather seats and appealed to me very much. And so I started looking for cars. It made no sense initially. Here I was happy sitting in my buses, spending 57 Euros a month on my transport costs, reading and napping on the commutes – why in the world did I need a car?! Well, that reasoning went up in smoke with not so much as ashes!
Several websites later, I was hooked onto one that pointed me to several dealers within 100 kms of where I live. Several searches later, I zeroed in on a few dealers. Several visits later, I was cursing myself at having to get up at 7 AM on Saturdays to visit these far off auto dealers. Several cars later, I almost gave up and told myself that this is the last weekend I am ruining!
Then I ended up in Lichtenfels, which had been a dot on a map until now, but turned out to be a sizeable town. After a call to the dealer enquiring how I reach their place, I was sent a car to pick me up from the train station. I immediately started doubting the dealer having had a similar experience earlier where the dealer had turned out to be very shady. But I was driven to this huge Volkswagen and Audi dealership, and that is where I saw the navy blue beauty – standing all by herself among all the VWs and the Audis!
So, after spending close to 14 thousand Euros in basic cost, insurance and sundry taxes – here I am - a proud owner of a Mercedes convertible. The day I made the decision was one of the happiest of my recent life!
Now I am just hoping to get some sunshine so that I can click pictures of the beauty I ride.
I also wait for the summer when I can have her top down!
Sunday, December 5, 2010
At my favorite window….
My adulthood favorite window is in my favorite café. I come here most Sunday evenings when I am in Erlangen.
I sit on the ledge and I work sometimes. I used to study earlier when work was less demanding. Even earlier, I used to read novels sitting here. But now, usually it is office work on the computer.
I have been here in the summer, and I have seen people milling about. I have been here during Football Fever and seen the town come to a halt celebrating German wins. I have been here during fall, and seen the leaves turn yellow. I am here now and I see snow flying by the glow of the street lamp.
Over two years have passed, but me and the window have kept our dates. We have seen life together, with each other.
I did try to make this post poetic, but I give up. Instead, I would look out, at the people rush by….
I sit on the ledge and I work sometimes. I used to study earlier when work was less demanding. Even earlier, I used to read novels sitting here. But now, usually it is office work on the computer.
I have been here in the summer, and I have seen people milling about. I have been here during Football Fever and seen the town come to a halt celebrating German wins. I have been here during fall, and seen the leaves turn yellow. I am here now and I see snow flying by the glow of the street lamp.
Over two years have passed, but me and the window have kept our dates. We have seen life together, with each other.
I did try to make this post poetic, but I give up. Instead, I would look out, at the people rush by….
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Hero
Is it worse not having a hero at all,
or realizing that your hero is just another person?
All that you imagined heroic does not exist anymore - may be never did, and then you are left wondering about all that you worshipped and wanted to be - does not meet your own standards!
Growing up is not half the fun it was promised to be!
or realizing that your hero is just another person?
All that you imagined heroic does not exist anymore - may be never did, and then you are left wondering about all that you worshipped and wanted to be - does not meet your own standards!
Growing up is not half the fun it was promised to be!
Saturday, July 24, 2010
A tug, no answer
Just hit upon a very old entry in my diary:
(Sunshine, I have) found a resting bed in you where my heart is anchored. But I worry I'll lose you. I understand that life has to move on. I don't want it to stop. Nor do I want you to come along my way. All I want is that the string that ties us gets so long and flexible that wherever I go, am still anchored right here with you.
Later, I ended the entry as:
You've started calling me moonlite. You know - I am, cause you are.
Since writing this, about 8 years have passed. A part of me is still stuck there.
Have tugged at the string several times. Can't see it's other end. And never got tugged back.
(Sunshine, I have) found a resting bed in you where my heart is anchored. But I worry I'll lose you. I understand that life has to move on. I don't want it to stop. Nor do I want you to come along my way. All I want is that the string that ties us gets so long and flexible that wherever I go, am still anchored right here with you.
Later, I ended the entry as:
You've started calling me moonlite. You know - I am, cause you are.
Since writing this, about 8 years have passed. A part of me is still stuck there.
Have tugged at the string several times. Can't see it's other end. And never got tugged back.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Berlin
A breeze carrying drops of water that were small enough to leave you dry but large enough to let their presence felt; a historical city square with churches on two sides and an Opera house on the other; coffee with exotic Turkish delights; sun peeking from behind the clouds and lighting up half of a dome – magical!
Italian women on the next table – straight out of Sicilian Sex and the City; French eccentricities on the table behind; and a German hulk for company – real!
Such was the trip to Berlin – pendulating between surreal and ordinary!
Italian women on the next table – straight out of Sicilian Sex and the City; French eccentricities on the table behind; and a German hulk for company – real!
Such was the trip to Berlin – pendulating between surreal and ordinary!
Friday, February 19, 2010
Hit upon this one...
Anonymous, GR
Are you able to listen to your own feelings ?
So why being scared of others' sweetness ?
Are you able to listen to your own feelings ?
So why being scared of others' sweetness ?
Thursday, February 18, 2010
मन करता है...
लौटने का वहां जहाँ थी मासूमियत,
और था अनजाना, अन्छूआ, बचकाना भरोसा,
जो दूर हो गए उनके हाथ थामने का,
छूटे रिश्तों को फिर गले लगाने का,
जो अपने हो न सके उन्हें अपना बनाने का,
फूलों को देख मुस्कुराने का,
शीशे पे जमी ओस पे दिल खींचने का!
मन को समझाने का कि ये सब मुमकिन है,
मन करता है...
और था अनजाना, अन्छूआ, बचकाना भरोसा,
जो दूर हो गए उनके हाथ थामने का,
छूटे रिश्तों को फिर गले लगाने का,
जो अपने हो न सके उन्हें अपना बनाने का,
फूलों को देख मुस्कुराने का,
शीशे पे जमी ओस पे दिल खींचने का!
मन को समझाने का कि ये सब मुमकिन है,
मन करता है...
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Man and Boy
by Tony Parsons
What could I tell her? You don’t tell a wife that some inanimate object somehow represents all those things you know you are never going to have. The places you are never going to see, the women you are never going to love, the things you are never going to do. You cant tell a wife all that stuff. Not even a wife you love very much. Especially not a wife like that.
- -
The reason most men stray is opportunity, and the joy of meaningless sex should never be underestimated. It had been a meaningless, opportunistic coupling. That’s what I had liked most about it.
What I liked least about it was that already I was starting to feel like a traitor.
But all the time I was with Siobhan, while half of me thought that this was probably the woman I hadn’t realized I had been looking for all my life, the other half of me sort of missed my wife. I missed the easy familiarity you get with someone who you have been with for years. If I was going to be unfaithful, then I kind of wished it could have been with Gina, my wife.
- -
Love is what’s left when being in love is gone. It’s when you care about someone and you hope they are happy, but you are not under any illusions about them. May be that kind of love is not exciting and passionate and all those things that fade with time. All those things that you are so keen on. But in the end it’s the only kind of love that really matters.
- -
‘You think you want someone who can transform your life with love. But you really don’t want love, Harry. You couldn’t handle real love. You want romance.’
Her words were made worse, much worse, by the fact that they were said with enormous tenderness. There was no anger or malice in them. It was as if she felt genuinely sorry for me.
‘And that’s fine. That’s the way you are and in a lot of ways it’s a good way to be. But it would never work between us because you can’t make the hearts and flowers stuff last for a lifetime. Not with kids around. Especially when they are not your own.’
- -
‘But you have to learn to let go. Its part of of what it means to love someone. To really lose someone. If you love someone then you don’t just see them as an extension of yourself. You don’t just love them for what’s in it for you. Love means knowing when to let go.
This is something I had heard my own mother say, and I am amazed by this insight she had when I was little, being so far removed from anything that was remotely modern.
- -
He dropped his bike and came to my arms, pressing his face against me, overwhelming me with what felt like the very essence of him. He filled my senses – his unruly mop of blond hair, his impossible smooth skin, that Pat small of dirt and sugar. My beautiful son, I thought, tasting the salt of our tears.
- -
A feeling that I have always longed for, but may never get to experience.
Man and Boy – a delightful book. Highly recommended.
What could I tell her? You don’t tell a wife that some inanimate object somehow represents all those things you know you are never going to have. The places you are never going to see, the women you are never going to love, the things you are never going to do. You cant tell a wife all that stuff. Not even a wife you love very much. Especially not a wife like that.
- -
The reason most men stray is opportunity, and the joy of meaningless sex should never be underestimated. It had been a meaningless, opportunistic coupling. That’s what I had liked most about it.
What I liked least about it was that already I was starting to feel like a traitor.
But all the time I was with Siobhan, while half of me thought that this was probably the woman I hadn’t realized I had been looking for all my life, the other half of me sort of missed my wife. I missed the easy familiarity you get with someone who you have been with for years. If I was going to be unfaithful, then I kind of wished it could have been with Gina, my wife.
- -
Love is what’s left when being in love is gone. It’s when you care about someone and you hope they are happy, but you are not under any illusions about them. May be that kind of love is not exciting and passionate and all those things that fade with time. All those things that you are so keen on. But in the end it’s the only kind of love that really matters.
- -
‘You think you want someone who can transform your life with love. But you really don’t want love, Harry. You couldn’t handle real love. You want romance.’
Her words were made worse, much worse, by the fact that they were said with enormous tenderness. There was no anger or malice in them. It was as if she felt genuinely sorry for me.
‘And that’s fine. That’s the way you are and in a lot of ways it’s a good way to be. But it would never work between us because you can’t make the hearts and flowers stuff last for a lifetime. Not with kids around. Especially when they are not your own.’
- -
‘But you have to learn to let go. Its part of of what it means to love someone. To really lose someone. If you love someone then you don’t just see them as an extension of yourself. You don’t just love them for what’s in it for you. Love means knowing when to let go.
This is something I had heard my own mother say, and I am amazed by this insight she had when I was little, being so far removed from anything that was remotely modern.
- -
He dropped his bike and came to my arms, pressing his face against me, overwhelming me with what felt like the very essence of him. He filled my senses – his unruly mop of blond hair, his impossible smooth skin, that Pat small of dirt and sugar. My beautiful son, I thought, tasting the salt of our tears.
- -
A feeling that I have always longed for, but may never get to experience.
Man and Boy – a delightful book. Highly recommended.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Schnee
Tiny flakes lit by street lamps,
Powder under the feet, on the coat, on the head
Cottony wisps coming at you but stopped short by the wind-screen
Coolness melting in the palms, on the cheeks,
Outdoor tables loaded with perfect pristine circular cakes,
White vastness everywhere.
Powder under the feet, on the coat, on the head
Cottony wisps coming at you but stopped short by the wind-screen
Coolness melting in the palms, on the cheeks,
Outdoor tables loaded with perfect pristine circular cakes,
White vastness everywhere.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
