Thank you Ram for the Wolseley remembrance. Here is the story of my car.
My father had a Premier Padmini in 1979. It was MMF3433. I used to tinker with it continuously which I guess used to irritate him. So one day he decided to buy me a cheap car. There was this car BML7349, a Wolseley 4/44 owned by an old Parsi gentleman. My father and I went to see it in Bandra. He was staying in a bungalow with an white pomeranian for company and the car was parked in an empty compound opposite his bungalow. It was silver in colour. The tyres were half flat (5.90*15 Ambassador size). The battery was completely flat. The car was covered with 3 layers of blue and grey plastic sheets, all tattered. The fog lights were on the car. They had flat lenses and the reflectors had disintegrated. My father spoke to the gentleman (his house was dingy and stank to high heavens). "What is your expectation ?" "I want 7000". My father offered 4000. He did not say anything, went inside and brought a ----- hold your breath ----- a revolver. "Mr.Dhabhar, you want to buy this ? You want to buy this ? I want to sell it". My father said, "no, I don't want to buy the revolver, I want to buy the car". He did not accept our offer and threw us out, so we came home. I forgot about it. After some days, we got a phone call at home. "Mr.Dhabhar, are you still interested ?" My father said "I am interested but at my price". ""Come and take it" and he slammed the telephone down. So we went (my father, mother and I). He was quite upset with us but we kept our cool. So we paid the money, he told me to come with him to the compound and removed the plastic sheets and opened the door. The interior was stinking. He told me to fit a battery (which we had taken along) and take the car. I connected the battery and after what seemed an eternity, the engine started. Gingerly I took the car out of where it must have been standing for minimum of 5 years. My mother sat next to me while my father was to follow in the Padmini. Just as we were about to leave the compound, he ran behind the car and told me to stop. "Give me the keys" he shouted. I stopped the engine and gave him the keys. He opened the dicky and removed a 2ft*2ft torn dirty blue plastic sheet. "Why should I give you this ? Now go". I could not stop laughing but kept a serious face. We came on the road and then I laughed. We went to the big petrol pump in Bandra and filled air in the tyres. I remember people watching in amazement at the car. We filled petrol @ 4 rupees a litre and my mother bought some agarbattis from a shop down the road and lighted them in the car to get rid of the stench otherwise we could not sit inside. We reached home. The first thing I did after reaching home was removing the fog lights and keeping them safely at home, the same ones I showed to Ram recently. The upholstery was a stately dark maroon and had a hand rest coming out of the rear seat. There was a blower also. All original meters worked perfectly. I learnt a lot tinkering with it and my father hopefully got some peace of mind as I left the Padmini alone. I changed the tyres and fitted "Dunlop Cold Seal C49 white sidewall", 4 tyres and 4 tubes for 1000 rupees. Such makes are unheard of today. Well, as there was quite a bit of corrosion, we decided to get it painted. So it became a shiny black with origial chrome bumpers and wheelcaps. I remember the names of the guys who worked on it. They were Munna and Jagdishbhai. Even during those days, the guy who actually painted the car was known as "painter". Today also he is still called painter. Never knew his real name.
One of my classmates in my engineering college in VJTI ran a private taxi business. He saw the car and offered me 12000. This was a godsend offer for me at that time so I sold it. He took it to Aurangabad. After that, I do not know what happened. My only touch and feel remembrances are the superb fog lamps and the workshop manual. I have fitted brand new reflectors in them with high and low beam arrangement. I will never ever part with them.
Once again, thank you Ram for making me remember. I wish those days come back (I feel that I am lucky because I can still re-live the feeling of an era gone by when I slowly drive my Superselect Fiat on the almost empty streets of Nasik).
Best regards,
Behram Dhabhar |