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“Clutch press…CLUTCH FULL PRESS MA!! 1st gear, start, slowly leave clutch no Ma not full leave…start la half leave Ma!” yelled my driving instructor Kumar as I took of on a jittery start on the Thirvalluvar Nagar Beach Road. “Second!!” RTO ellaa gear'um pottu kaatta solluvaaru ma!! …Sir I don’t understand Tamil sir...I said…very politely... not something I am known for I must add.
He muttered some inaudible and I’m sure incomprehensible words, of which I could just grasp “4 Gears Ma! First “apparam” Second “apparam” Third “apparam” 4th, stop. Reverse stop. Clutch press gear change, leave clutch accelerator press”
Had I not been trying so hard to drive the beat up Maruti I would have thrown up my hands in frustration and yelled “God how many times do I have to tell you- I DON’T UNDERSTAND TAMIL!!” Instead I drove on.
With the wee bit of generosity he had shown by using a couple of English words (glad he didn’t say “Or gear, rend gear” or something on those lines) I managed to complete the dress rehearsal.
There were 5 of us from the driving school- 2 Marutis and 3 Santros.
I chose to ignore the impudent manner in which we were addressed.
We were there at the “Test Ground” by 9:30. It was almost 11:00 when the RTO “Almighty” turned up, twisting and twirling his enormous bushy mustache holding a thick bulky register in his hand. These government officials have always made me wonder whether a thick curvilinear mustache is considered a sure sign of power and prosperity!
We began with the “Maruti’s” first, me being Bushy’s “first catch” of the day.
We all piled into one of the driving school’s Maruti’s which had definitely seen better days- Bushy, Kumar and but obviously me. “Seatbelt, Seatbelt” Kumar hissed into my ears disrupting and destroying all my mental preparation for the test. “20 classes, 20 classes I took with you, you meanie and you never made me wear the seatbelt even once grrrrrr!” I glared at him.
I took off, once again on a jittery start, with Kumar leaning over whispering aloud instructions on what I was supposed to do. Talk about Spoon-feeding I thought watching out for Bushy to react through the corner of my eye. He didn’t, I wasn’t surprised. Guess he was used to it.
“Cheri Done” pompously proclaimed Bushy, 3 minutes into the drive. “Test done” translated Kumar. “Purinjada” I hissed back, slamming the door shut behind me as I jauntily walked back towards the rest of the junta.
The test was followed by the issuance of the license. If the test was anything to go by, I had a Herculean task lying ahead for me to undertake.
Our papers were thumped into our hands and all of us-3 Santros and 2 Marutis trudged our way towards the Thiruvamiyur RTO Office. Once there our papers were hurriedly snatched out our hands by our driving school “local” RTO guy Karanan, who claimed that “he knew his way around” there. He herded us women towards what seemed like a never-ending queue of people waiting to be allotted their passport to the world of “x” wheelers.
Our wait didn’t last long. Within minutes our papers were handed over to us.
Ah! the papers! I got a chance to glance at my papers that were dutifully filled out by my driving school. “A mole on my right hand” was to be my distinguishing mark. Wow I wondered, 24 years of my life I haven’t seen a mole that these guys noticed in 20 classes!
Now all that was left was to get my snap clicked for the license. I handed my papers to one officer who peered at them.
“’Seeta Vaman Bodke’ uhhh??… This should be only Seeta Vaman madam, where did this Bodke come from?”
“Well Sir, back where I come from, our surname is our identity and not just our dad’s name!” I could have screamed that out but then it would not have made any difference.
“No Madam it should be Seetha Vaman” he said firmly. “Seeta I yelled, there is no hetch in my name and its SEETA VAMAN BODKE just put it as I tell you ok???” I almost yelled.
Unconvinced he handed my form to me and sent me to the “keep your footwear outside” air-conditioned room for my snap to be clicked. Not the kind to take a second chance I explained each and every detail to the lady who was to convert my personal details into binary bits. The photographing session which strongly reminded me of my voter id card snap session took hardly a minute.
I was asked to wait out.
“Seetha Seetha” yelled one officer waving out my license. Excited I reached out for it only to realize that the RTO had aged me by 74 years! “My birth year is 1981 sir and not 1918.” "Uhh?? ennache Madam??" He asked. Knowing limited Tamil was proving to be a major pain at all the wrong places."Birthdate Sir" i repeated.
“Seri Madam I change it” he replied indifferently leaving me with a sinking feeling that such “trivial” mistakes were a usual state of affairs there.
“Seetha Seetha” he yelled again 10 minutes later. Too irritated to notice the “hetch” effect on my name I took the card from him.
Driver’s Name: Seeta Vaman Bodke
Father’s Name: Bodke
“Sir my father’s name is not Bodke! It’s Vaman. Bodke is my surname!! I yelled exasperatedly.
“Whaat Surname Madam, it should only be father’s name Madam don’t get confused” and he smiled.
That was the last straw. “I am not from the south why don’t you understand that Sir, not all are from here, just change it ok!”
My yelling seemed to have no effect at all on him. “Seri Madam” he once again replied in his now familiar indifferent tone.
Fuming I sat on a creaky old bench, only to be further infuriated by the snickering sounds I could hear the Murugans and Karthikeyans of Chennai making all around me.
“Be calm, Breathe in Breathe out” I told myself. I kept doing this till the officer reappeared with my card. This time he didn’t yell out my name, instead he walked straight towards me and handed over the card. I checked the card. Over and over again. No errors, no typos. 3 attempts to get it right wow!
“It’s correct, thank you” I muttered and quickly made my way out of the godforsaken place.
ROTFL.... :) this one had me in splits :)
ReplyDeleteand talk about arguing with those still way down on the evolutionary chain... tough isnt it? :)
great post seets!
Reminded me of the time I got my licence :-) Nice read!!
ReplyDeleteThank you Wooster ji.. :P
ReplyDeleteR i've already started warning people against applyin for a license in ammaland :P
Hey... but I had no issues... :-) No bribe, no problem... but I've had issues at other places... where they ask for nativity... I always have a problem there :-) I don't know where I belong :-))
ReplyDeleteHey ... this was an amazing blog ... but the end lost the zing ... Maaka majhe license kash melille yaad zaale .. much more an easier task :)
ReplyDeleteCongrats Seeta :)
ReplyDeleteI got my licence in Goa itself right after I turned 18. Thank God. Now the formalities n forms have multiplied incredibly. My sis had a tough time recently. I can't imagine getting it done all by myself in a place where I couldn't even scream in the local language. :D
well i'll be going for mine shortly n after reading i'm not looking forward to it!! the only difference between u and me will, i guess, be the fact that i know tamil :)
ReplyDeletegood post :)
see....i came, i read n i commented :D
Heh... Heh.. funny aren't we??
ReplyDeleteSo whats up ??
- abhi!
By d way, have added ur blog as a link on mine. Plz add mine 2 urs.
ReplyDeleteHad a good laugh reading yr blog... :)) Have had enough of all this here... but its fun talking about all this... ;)
ReplyDeleteHi Seeta,
ReplyDeleteAre you the same Seeta Bodke who is working for DKM practice of Satyam at Tidal Park?
May i know who this is Mr. Anonymous>? MNaybe then we could have our introductions.. what say? :)
ReplyDeleteHeyyy, how come even I never noticed any mole on your hand....
ReplyDeleteKeep your distinguising mark in-tact and ake sure it doesnt fell off.
Neways, that apart. Lucky damsel, at least you got your licence. I also have to go through the same routine once back :( And mujhe tambi ka ek word bhi nahi aata :((
Surprising u face this kind of a problem here. In Mumbai ... people simply don't accept that we do not have a surname!!!! And the same problems ensue!
ReplyDeleteThis was a good one !!!
ReplyDeleteI had an auto driver take me towards 'Yegmore' when where I wanted to go was the 'Yairport' once !!!
Truly funny! :) Reminded me of the time I had to run around the RTO for my drivers license. I hated every bit of it.
ReplyDelete@ Ash- hehehe, I am sure it must have been way too normal in the US.. the right to entertainment lies only with RTOs in India ;-)
ReplyDeleteHa ha ha....love this one..good work Seeta...without the "hetch"
ReplyDeleteHehehe, this is a true incident.. word to word :) happened to me at Thiruvanmiyur RTO.
DeleteI bet.this is. Could relate to each bit of it.
DeleteBy the way, Left hand drive, convertible Maruti (image used)..not bad! Seems to be a customized version for the ever aspiring Chennai "juntha" (pun intended) to perfect their US driving.
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ReplyDeleteHaha.. hilarious post. I got my licence quite easily though..:) without any test !!
ReplyDeleteWoah! Now that is something :)
DeletePhew! Seetha, I am so glad you got your right card!!! Remembered my experience to get my License! We have horror stories.
ReplyDeleteHehehehe, well the address on my license is that of my home state (Goa) but the pin code is of Chennai... hehehehe
DeleteSome memorable experience!
ReplyDeleteMine was a smooth affair luckily! The guy who came to test my skills was impressed with my reverse driving skills. Paper work too went off smoothly. But getting on road and actually taking the traffic took lot of time for me.
Totally agree on the last part.. its a nightmare to drive out in the actual traffic :|
DeleteHehehe..'Seetha' and " Seri Madam '...really hilarious ..I remember my story with this recent 'Aadhar' card thing..it was a nightmare too !!! :-(
ReplyDeleteHehehehe can imagine.. but when you look back trust me all you will do is laugh at it :)
DeleteI know I should not, but I laughed all through. :D
ReplyDeleteOh no you should laugh.. if anything that is what it was.. a big laugh :P It is one of those memories which make me smile all the time :)
DeleteHahaha! That was fun Seeta! Now, as an aside, I am glad that some of you guys are facing what we poor South Indians have been facing in the North all the while - "Don't speak Hindi" and "If I am C. Suresh it expands as Suresh Chandrasekaran and not the other way round - we guys DO NOT have surnames only our fathers' names" none of that helps :) My name is S.. C...in some government documents and C.. S... in others still :) A further aside - you do seem to have picked up quite a bit of Tamil in the process :)
ReplyDeleteGood read Seeta - without the hetch :). But I agree with Suresh, it's just a problem of being odd one out irrespective of who or where we are.
Delete@Suresh- I know! esp. being from the west of the country I get a chance to be amused by both the north and south ends :P and yeah did pick up a bit of Tamil which helps me get around just fine in B'lore too :) Btw, I am one of those who hold Chennai close to their heart and are ever ready to clear the air when we have blinded mindsets shriek on hearing the name :)
Delete@Moonstone - completely agree :) If I was up north for this test I am sure I would have had an equally amusing story to narrate :)
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