Roopa Mohan reminisces about her family car in India.
It was November 1981 and I, a new immigrant and bride, landed in San Francisco all the way from Madras, India. My husband came to receive me in a sleek yellow Chevy Nova that he fondly called ‘Betsy.’ Over the next few months, I was terribly homesick: I not only missed my family but our trusty old car, the rather elephantine Ambassador!
We had named it ‘Ambi,’ like a helpful son in our Tamil language. Ambi the car was not very attractive or colorful, but practical and roomy. We took wonderful road trips with my dad at the wheel. There were no seatbelts, AC, or even a radio. We kids would roll down the windows and joyfully sing our own songs, stretched out on the spacious back seat. Ambi was indeed very popular, the undisputed ‘king of the road’ in India during the late 1900s.
Over time, I observed that there were fewer and fewer Ambis on the crowded roads of Madras, overrun by sexy new vehicles. Later, I saw them only in car graveyards. My beloved Ambi had become extinct!
Meanwhile, I got used to the sleek cars in America that were easier to drive, without the tricky stick shift. Our family grew and we bought our first minivan, a big ugly gray one. To my joy it was spacious and practical, perfect for long, happy road trips with the entire family. We named this elephant ‘Mishi’ and she became my new friend, almost taking the place of my trusty old Ambi!
With a Perspective, I’m Roopa Mohan.