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16 years with my beloved Maruti Zen Estilo: Recounting old memories

To me this car symbolized my days of struggle and immense hard work. It’s something I never wanted, but felt stuck with.

BHPian binoym recently shared this with other enthusiasts.

Baby Chamko - Not so Zen!

How do you start writing about a car that’s been in your family for 16 years! Let’s start from the beginning.

We’ve had Maruti cars in the family for as long as I remember and my parents were always able to maintain two separate cars respectively. Dad would drive his car to work leaving mom’s car to be used for the house - school pickup’s, classes, grocery runs and the “L sign” when my sister and I were learning how to drive. In a way this car was the true family beater. Over the years, the car changed from a Maruti 800 - Zen - Suzuki Alto - Zen Estilo.

When my parents took delivery of the Estilo (Summer 2008), I was away at grad school but was visiting and my sister was already married and they were downsizing their own lives. I still remember my sister calling me in shock - Mom just bought the UGLIEST car possible - it’s a golden Zen Estilo. Although I did not question the car, I did question the color to which my dad admitted he made a mistake. He thought he booked the beige only to realize on the delivery date it was golden! My mom on the other hand was a happy customer. Her limited neighborhood drives were comfy in Baby Chamko (my friend coined this term) and she was thrilled she had power windows and electrically adjustable side mirrors.

Cut to 2009, I moved back home. I am 23, I have no money and I am starting up a business. There is nothing bigger than a mother’s heart and she allows me to use her car for my daily commute (she didn’t have to). So Baby Chamko was all mine. What I thought would be a couple of years, ended up being five. Until I was able to purchase my first car.

Over the past ten years, the car was basically parked outside collecting rust. My mom barely drove the car (maybe twice a month). The past five years dad and I were convincing mom to learn how to drive an automatic - but she disagrees. She refuses to sell the car. My dad refuses to repair it. We’ll crank up the car once in a while and that’s it! I still wouldn’t understand why my mom would not opt for either - It just seemed the most logical solution.

To me this car symbolized my days of struggle and immense hard work. It’s something I never wanted, but felt stuck with. I am a big guy and I love driving. So 4 out 5 times, I would take my car out when I was going to meet friends or family. The jokes and commentary would not stop - When do you sell this car? Can you re-paint this please? You can’t call yourself a car guy! And my favorite: Dude, you look like a teddy bear driving a go-kart! I couldn’t wait to hand this back to my mom and get the car I wanted. When I did, I forgot about the Estilo.

To my mother, driving perhaps symbolized her own freedom. She was proud that she could drive and has been driving for 40 years! Over the past 22 years, we’ve had four dogs and we lost our fourth and final dog about ten days ago and she’s sure she wants no more pets. This possibly sparked a need for her to let go of something she was holding on to. One morning at breakfast, we have to move the car because of the excessive rainfall and we’re complaining about how yet again, one more thing’s broken down in the Estilo - and she says it - “Let it go, sell it”. We finally do. She’s gone. For my mother, this wasn’t about selling “her” car but her final car. She still refuses to learn an automatic!

I didn’t care to think about this car let alone, write about it. I wasn’t there to say goodbye and neither was my mom. My dad was able to sell this car for some INR 35,000 - and I sat with mom to discuss all the good and bad times we’ve had through these 16 years. What it symbolizes to her? What it symbolizes to me? So what is it about cars? Is it the time it represents or the time and headspace we were in when we owned them? At 16 years, Estilo's seen it all! Friends, Grocery Runs, our pets, our kids, our freedom, our struggles and our dreams - they’re almost as important as the spaces we live in.

Some pictures I could dig out from memory cards!

Dad taking the delivery. I am guessing this is at Sidhivinayak Temple.

The Old Zen (This was my primary ride and I spotted it outside a restaurant. I think it was being used at a training school) next to the new:

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