I am a Bajaj Kid! I belong to that generation of kids who grew up riding on Bajaj Scooters and listening to '....Buland Bharat ki buland tasveer- Hamara Bajaj.' And, what fun memories do I have of our scooter! I distinctly remember the time Dad bought it home. I was Four years old, and stood in the doorway eagerly waiting for my Dad and Uncle. It was getting dark and then, I spotted them. Don't remember much from the night. It is blue-coloured and the number plate is 8847- I remember Dad once told me the trick to remember the number plate. He asked me, What is the height of Mount Everest? It is 8848 m. Isn't it an easy number? he asked. I never once forgot it since. Years later, I however, had some trouble memorising our Car number plate. There was no logic there to help me.
I have fond memories of travelling on the scooter with Dad during summer holidays. We would ride outside Nashik and then stop by the roadside under Gulmohar trees. Dad would help me pluck the flaming red flowers. Aah! What Joy, this memory conjures up! Dad used to come home only on weekends, and then he would take me along to the Nashik Artillery Canteen, which used to be a great trip because it was nestled far away from the main city and I absolutely loved those long scooter rides.
One incident I remember quite clearly is during an Independence Day celebration at school. I was in Class Two, and after the celebration was over, I came out of the school premises looking out for Dad. I could not spot him for a long time. But then, I spotted our Bajaj scooter and climbed atop. I sat there, tears in my eyes with the National Flag in one hand, wondering where Dad was. He came there and saw me crying. I leapt with such joy on seeing him. THIS is my most precious memory with the scooter.
Often, during school vacations, I would sit on the parked scooter in our verandah, voicing engine sounds and pretending to drive, also honk and make my mother crazy with all the hullabaloo. I remember late night Ice cream trips and visits to my Uncle's home. My uncle had a motorcycle then, one which I was quite scared of. It seemed like a monstrous, powerful vehicle compared to the assuring and trustworthy scooter. Dad would treat me to sugarcane juice on my results day, and I would drink that while still sitting on the scooter. Dad had a very unique name painted on the front portion of the scooter- our initials, me, mum and his- SUSNEH. I loved all the Hamara Bajaj advertisements that came on TV during those days, and would often sing them at the top of my voice. What a beautiful Childhood it was!
Years later, after we shifted to Mumbai, Dad continued to use the scooter. He would pick me up from my late night train journeys at the station. He would stand near the arrays of closed shops just outside the train station and as soon as the train would slow down, I would spot him standing there, and both of us would wave at each other. I would always be so happy at his sight. Dad would religiously garland the scooter every year on Independence Day because that was the day we bought it home- 15th August, 1992. He would get up early every sunday and clean the scooter and would return home just before Rangoli aired on TV. I would still be groggy eyed but my parents would allow me to watch Rangoli while lying on the bed, half-asleep. I would insist them to wake me up in time for Rangoli on saturday before going to bed. It was a great time to live in because I have memories of spending sundays in a very unique way. It was the only day, I could spend all my time with Dad and we would chat a lot. I would keep poking my head in the newspaper he was reading, I would volunteer to go grocery shopping with him and while returning home, he would treat me to sugarcane juice. It was an indescribably beautiful phase of my life.
Today afternoon, I spent 30 minutes with Dad while he was working on the scooter upkeep. These days, he no longer uses the scooter. The brake wires need to be changed but no mechanic keeps them. Since, Bajaj scooters are no longer manufactured, spare parts are hard to get. I travelled back to my childhood when I would sit by when he used to clean the scooter. I did the same today, and felt nostalgic of all those days spent in curiosity with my Dad. He would tell me so many things during our time together of the scooter cleaning ritual. Then, he would never need my help to pull the scooter but today, he asked me to lend a hand and I realised how time has passed by us.
All good things come to an end. I only wish our Bajaj was not one of them. Its been 22 years now. Hard to believe that the symbols of the simpler times back then will now be lost, forever. I still see some old Bajaj models on the road sometimes and feel proud to have grown up on one.
I have fond memories of travelling on the scooter with Dad during summer holidays. We would ride outside Nashik and then stop by the roadside under Gulmohar trees. Dad would help me pluck the flaming red flowers. Aah! What Joy, this memory conjures up! Dad used to come home only on weekends, and then he would take me along to the Nashik Artillery Canteen, which used to be a great trip because it was nestled far away from the main city and I absolutely loved those long scooter rides.
One incident I remember quite clearly is during an Independence Day celebration at school. I was in Class Two, and after the celebration was over, I came out of the school premises looking out for Dad. I could not spot him for a long time. But then, I spotted our Bajaj scooter and climbed atop. I sat there, tears in my eyes with the National Flag in one hand, wondering where Dad was. He came there and saw me crying. I leapt with such joy on seeing him. THIS is my most precious memory with the scooter.
Often, during school vacations, I would sit on the parked scooter in our verandah, voicing engine sounds and pretending to drive, also honk and make my mother crazy with all the hullabaloo. I remember late night Ice cream trips and visits to my Uncle's home. My uncle had a motorcycle then, one which I was quite scared of. It seemed like a monstrous, powerful vehicle compared to the assuring and trustworthy scooter. Dad would treat me to sugarcane juice on my results day, and I would drink that while still sitting on the scooter. Dad had a very unique name painted on the front portion of the scooter- our initials, me, mum and his- SUSNEH. I loved all the Hamara Bajaj advertisements that came on TV during those days, and would often sing them at the top of my voice. What a beautiful Childhood it was!
Years later, after we shifted to Mumbai, Dad continued to use the scooter. He would pick me up from my late night train journeys at the station. He would stand near the arrays of closed shops just outside the train station and as soon as the train would slow down, I would spot him standing there, and both of us would wave at each other. I would always be so happy at his sight. Dad would religiously garland the scooter every year on Independence Day because that was the day we bought it home- 15th August, 1992. He would get up early every sunday and clean the scooter and would return home just before Rangoli aired on TV. I would still be groggy eyed but my parents would allow me to watch Rangoli while lying on the bed, half-asleep. I would insist them to wake me up in time for Rangoli on saturday before going to bed. It was a great time to live in because I have memories of spending sundays in a very unique way. It was the only day, I could spend all my time with Dad and we would chat a lot. I would keep poking my head in the newspaper he was reading, I would volunteer to go grocery shopping with him and while returning home, he would treat me to sugarcane juice. It was an indescribably beautiful phase of my life.
Today afternoon, I spent 30 minutes with Dad while he was working on the scooter upkeep. These days, he no longer uses the scooter. The brake wires need to be changed but no mechanic keeps them. Since, Bajaj scooters are no longer manufactured, spare parts are hard to get. I travelled back to my childhood when I would sit by when he used to clean the scooter. I did the same today, and felt nostalgic of all those days spent in curiosity with my Dad. He would tell me so many things during our time together of the scooter cleaning ritual. Then, he would never need my help to pull the scooter but today, he asked me to lend a hand and I realised how time has passed by us.
All good things come to an end. I only wish our Bajaj was not one of them. Its been 22 years now. Hard to believe that the symbols of the simpler times back then will now be lost, forever. I still see some old Bajaj models on the road sometimes and feel proud to have grown up on one.
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