The boy who never sold his Ferrari.

“Bright sunshine on winter mornings is like the girl on the second last row who smiles and shakes her head while the teacher admonishes you for coming late. That feeling can be recreated years later as you press the Sport button, dab the accelerator and get the tail out of the corner while powering out of Connaught Circle. As you finally thunder out on Janpath without wrecking the car you know the car likes you, no matter what the onlookers say. Just like the girl on the second last row, remember the one who was smiling.

You can wear a wall clock on your wrist and still have no clue about what time it is. Because “what time it is” is the last thought on the mind of someone who is 16 and is in bed with the hottest senior. Or in simpler terms chicanes, esses and revcounter warps time more than Starship enterprise can, when you are behind the scalpel sharp steering of a F430 Scuderia.



Strapped in the six point harness, the double chin visible, I briefly take my eyes off the road to look in to the camera stuck on my left. The breathlessness clearly visible on the face, the trickle of sweat on the sideburns glinting in the evening sunlight, even though air-conditioning is standard on the 599 GTB. Finally for the first time since I sat in the car I gather my breath to utter something that is coherent. With a smile that can be only termed as naughty, I say what testers, writers and countless fans have said before. But unlike them I am not going to waste gallons of ink or acres of footage. “This car is better than a blowjob.”


Given almost half a million dollars can you find the perfect wife? The one who does what you want, whenever you want. Sexy, horny and the dominant partner in one click. Civilized, obedient and forgiving with another click. All the time. Every time. Unfailingly. At the click of a button. Oh yes you can. Better still she will come in your choice of innerwear - black alloys with red brake pads. Half a million dollars. That’s all you need to get the perfect partner these days. “






Between bright mornings, insipid briefs and cold lunch I have thought of a million lines I will say or write when for the first time i get to be behind the wheels of the scarlet car with a yellow badge. Between people telling me that it is impossible to get one and people who roll their eyes like bankers do when you tell them of your projects, I have never stopped dreaming of barreling straight down the Rajpath. Between people who have accepted compromise as life and people who have never questioned their destiny, I have always wanted to test the 100-millisecond-gear-change-time claim of the Scuderia. Between people who have been sucked dry of passion by the system and people who want to permeate the system into every passion, I have always wanted to be the hector that will tame the cantankerous horse. Between people who have sold their souls and between people who are looking to buy souls at a discount, I have never sold my Ferrari.