Bright and bleary-eyed at the same time, I reached Fountain at 8 this morning. Yes, I know, Sunday morning and all that. The Fountain parking lot which normally houses cars of all shapes and sizes through the work week and stays empty and forlorn during week-ends was abuzz with activity. A hundred odd cars, none of them less than fifty years old. Proud owners posing next to their cars, the brilliance of their proud smiles going flash! along with the hundreds of camera out there. Personal mechanics, as proud of the car they maintain as the owners themselves, now tinkering here, now giving it a final polish.

Each one of these cars a classic beauty, some of them round and curvy, their generous fenders in front begging to be caressed, some of them slightly angular, regal and pretending to be aloof…

The vintage car rally was about to begin and the pre-rally fashion show for cars was on. Never have I seen so many cameras out at one time in Bombay, never so many grown up men act like little children (I mean, so many at the same time). I imagine the entire family staying up all night giving it just that final rub of polish before they set off for the day. I imagine pesky children in the family being shooed away by irate fathers and uncles. I imagine the owners starting out early in the morning, dressed in their Sunday best, slightly sheepish wives on the passenger seat in front, and unbelievably energetic children at the back.

Polished to perfection…

Sometimes, there are wheels within wheels…

… and sometimes, entire cars within cars!

Here, the photographer (writer) does a mirror mirror on the wall act with the gleaming surface of this car…

Vintage cars was all okay but what were not-so-vintage Premier Padminis doing there? And a new Hyundai Getz parked bang smack in the middle of the line (what kind of personw ould imagine that line-up to be an ordinary parking lot)? And vintage motorbikes? Not that my husband minded…

Preening done for the morning, the cars set off one by one by about 9. Set off is not to say they vroomed their way to hell on the roads; they moved at snail’s pace, partly because of the lengthy lines and partly because that proably was best speed for some of them (a quick peep over my shoulder here to hope none of the owners is actually reading this). We hitched a joy ride in a 1939 World War II relic - a Volkswagen-Tempo collab car. The owner, Mr. Badamikar had driven down all the way from Pune; one hears that truck drivers on the Expressway have gone into into severe shock on seeing this on their road.

Mr. Badamikar owns not one or two but fourteen such vintage cars. He says he takes each of them out for a spin (er, slow drive) once in fifteen days; he does not say but I imagine he spends a bomb in mintaining each of these beauties. Husband and self felt like royalty (slightly foolish, but royal nevertheless), perched on the back seat of this “solid German guy” (someone else, not me), passengers from BEST buses craning their necks out for a look-see.

We hopped off at the entry to Kala Ghoda and watched the rest of the rally from near the booth where each car was registered before setting off on the actual rally. The police band was out in full force, welcoming each of these cars, now with the trumpet, now the cymbals.

The most endearing moment of the morning for me, was this Tibetan monk, standing in the shade some distance away from the hoots and toots. His mobile phone in hand, he kept clicking pictures of these cars as they passed by him, each time looking around a tad sheepishly after going click click.

Truly a blast from the past!