Expense Account, Mint
I did not know that when I put my eight-year-old, beat-up Indica (should have clicked the faces of some people when the family would get into that car!) up for sale that the experience will become a lesson in developmental economics and will document a little part of the story of a transforming country.
A viable Metro system, fire-snorting SUV drivers, jammed roads, the rising cost of running and maintaining two cars all held hands to move us from a two-car to a one-car house. Though we loved our old Indica—legs actually have room, an ignored speed-breaker will not cause roof damage by a sharply hitting head and a general sense of rough sturdiness that is a must-have on Delhi roads—the downsides at some point began to take over. The Indica begins to unravel after five or six years and its real soul begins to manifest. The soul says over and over again, every day: I’m really a truck masquerading as a car.