I'm quite crazy about driving, and driving fast at that, albeit maturely (all women in my life beg to differ). Upstanding Religious One started up this club for fellow car enthusiasts, with me a fairly
My own beautiful Zen Aurelia being the only completely raw car, which still manages to keep up with the rest, is known by the other members, who sometimes misinterpret my decision to park her away from the others as aloofness, despite the fact that I always get out and join them, rather than the fact that I'm merely avoiding a worst case scenario of someone showing up and
Last Sunday, we assembled outside the Moti Bag petrol pump around 6AM. We had acquired a gang of large surds in Civics and Santros, and while a large group of them attempted to get an Esteem with a weak battery and engine thingies too power-hungry for said battery going again(a vtec or something, I don't know anything about engines except how to disconnect and reconnect the acceleration), I grabbed a hold of one of the few fellows I knew by name, and decided to explore the immediate vicinity for food. Now being on a main road just shy of NH8, and a large Gurudwara nearby, there was no food to be found, except for the few Fererro Rocher I keep in my dash. Soon enough, we were off, to a cacophony of roaring engines and screechy tyres.
Now the rules state that everyone moves in a straight line, and I used to keep right at the back as I wasn't sure just how well my car would keep up with the rest, but our new members failed to pick up on this. As soon as we were off, they started overtaking each other, and the convoy became a jumble of cars, heading into highway traffic, albeit 6:45AM highway traffic. Not in a mood to get left behind or god forbid, lost, I bolted into the middle of the pack, and kept right behind a red Getz. At a red light, the Getz made it across, but this truck decided to cut the rest of us off. As soon as it turned green, I let two Esteems move on past as I wasn't entirely sure of the route to our final destination. Staying right behind those two, and with the remainder of the pack behind me, I spotted the red Getz a little ahead, and hit the gas to catch up with it, with the same two Esteems on my tail. For a few flyovers, the Esteems and some of the other cars were alternating my spot at the head of the pack, until at the end of a last flyover, the Getz took a left turn at the base of what I recognized as the 'Ship Building', in a wholly other region of NCR.
Taking a look in my rear-view, found the Getz I was initially following right behind me, along with the two Esteems, with a dozen other cars behind them, all distinguishable by blinking hazards and obnoxious carbon fiber skirting. Stopping on the side of the road, I inquired as to how we wound up in Gurgaon, when I was following the two Esteems. To my chagrin, the rest of the pack informed me that they had been following me, and had assumed I knew where I was going as I'm usually at the back of the pack. The newbies collectively turned tail and vanished without a word, leaving the rest of freezing our butts off, with the brilliance that is yours truly in naught but a white cotton shirt with three buttons open, and jeans.
A few phone calls later, a true 'Street Devils' convoy of eight cars set off, with the Beautiful Silver 2002 Zen that is known as Aurelia at the lead. The aforementioned Esteem with a weak battery broke off mid-way with a horrid green Matiz that was slowing down the pack in tow, wishing for the rest of us to fare well by cellphone, and four of the remainder took what they assumed was a shortcut. Reports claim they found themselves in Mayapuri, wherever the hell that is. One sole Esteem, blue and silver with horrid mismatched navy racing stripes remained behind me, true to my leadership, as I wound my way through a largely abandoned Dwarka, until I successfully reached the club's point of continuation, Sector 12. Upon arrival, we were to discover that the rest of the club had dispersed minutes before, as a bit of a tiff broke out when one of the Sardars attempted to wash the cars of some of the Street Devil vets as a sign of assumed goodwill, while the owners of said cars were doing the bhangra with our new members in the middle of a circle of cars in a bonding ceremony. It is assumed that one of the vets didn't take too kindly to said Sardar's kindness.
The esteemed Esteem owner that had remained under my leadership and I parked on the side of the road, and began our own bonding ceremony, one that involved a ceremonial driving of each others' cars, and much over appreciation of the handling and acceleration. We then sat in Aurelia's cockpit, chilling to the acoustic hits of Dave Matthews and Alanis and imbibing great quantities of banta we had managed to acquire off a fellow in a stall on one of our rounds in a foreign car. When we finally got the phone call marking the end of the meet, the two of us weaved through Dwarka-Dhaula Kuan-Ring Road-Saket traffic, very nearly avoiding accidents with the same cars in the process. Now that's bonding I say.
Finally, we made it to the 24-7 in PVR, where we, with the remainder of the Street Devils gang, attacked their hot dogs and freshly baked croissants with gusto. I also finally got my music system's rear speakers' bass and treble properly configured.
Now here's the fun part. Here's where you get to join in. I know there's more of you who just like me love a good, fast, smooth drive. Send me a mail at firstname.lastname@example.org, and I'll let you in on the fun. I know Street Devils is a horrid name, but it is (slightly) better than the last club he founded. I'm in the club more out of support for my buddy than any true need to drag race. At the very least, you'll be able to get very lost with me, and we can bond over banta and Alanis Morisette.