Words & photos: Ehsanur Raza Ronny
Akbar asks if I’d like to drive. It’s like asking me if I like air, or those tiny delicious sweets that come in different colors. He says he lets people older than him drive. I assume it’s because older people can usually pay for the damages via ATM cards right away. For a change, it’s good to be older.
I hop into the driver’s seat of the car that’s older than me, but only barely older. I sit IN it, like really, really in it. It feels low and I’m looking up at everything, and I love it already. And then I try to get the gear into drive and it won’t budge, which is embarrassing for me. Akbar says I need to pull hard, but I’m afraid I’m going to break it. But hey, old cars, they have these little issues that makes them more charming. Unless they don’t work. This car works, though. I start, grab a hold of the meaty non-powered steering and gently roll off. Top down. Oh, bliss.
SHIFT 