One morning at the RTO

Section 87 of Indian Penal Court permits me to:
1. Cast vote
2. Get married and consummate it
3. Provide consent for surgical procedures
4. Possess a driving license

Almost 2 years past since I got the privileges, yet I hadn't made use of any.
#1, The Government was already formed.
#2, Ha ha. Since there are certain elderlies (ones I am answerable to) reading my blog, I would prefer not to voice my valuable opinions on this matter.
#3, Fortunately (for most) or unfortunately (for none, I hope) I have managed to be in a single piece, haven't gotten myself into unnecessary hassles (not predisposing to invasive procedures atleast)
#4, Progressed here recently!! Technically not a license holder yet, but I successfully cleared the test.

The pre test formalities in the RTO were in progress. Five applicants including me from the same driving school. We were instructed to go inside the officer's cabin together. We were waiting for our turn. I caught glimpses of him when the 2 way doors swayed back and forth as people entered and left. We were quickly given last minute revision about the hand signals. I felt like I was waiting for a viva to get over.

He was an obnoxious man who went around raising his eyebrows in contempt, disdain and sneering his arrogance and disapproval at ordinary mortals. Actually most of the people there looked alike to me. I had an unfair advantage over the others with this officer atleast, mostly because I was of the fairer sex. That was the only possibility I could think of because I was the only girl. He was courteous and polite to me, made small talk and addressed me as "Yen ree doctre". He pointed out mistakes in three of the others' forms. One other boy and I, only we were allowed to take the test.

I wondered how his spine hadn't frozen that way. Our driving sir is almost always 45 degrees bent in the RTO, cultivating people of power to curry favour at the opportune moment. It wasn't technically a favour though. I remembered him chattering away gleefully with authority about everything under the sun during our driving sessions. I felt sorry for him.

After 2 hours wait in the sultry, hot weather he made an entry. He made people go for 2-3 lapses on steep tortuous circuits. Anything but reverse I hoped. That's not exactly my strong point and especially when I am being watched. He more than just simplified the task for me. I had to drive a few yards on straight road. I hardly even changed gears beyond the 2nd. He was pleased enough pass me. That was cake walk. Unnecessarily I worried, I thought as I got out of the car. My driving sir winked at me. I returned it.

So far so good. Time for some showing off now. Time to make a scene. "Yen ree doctre, still here? Not getting late for the hospital?" OMG! I wished I could ask him to mind his own business. I'd feel stupid if there were to be an emergency and they really needed a doctor's services.

My role model, super stud, my guru, philosopher and friend had once told me, "If my wife can ride my bike, I'll be her slave." Suddenly the concept of biking held a new meaning for me, was a big deal. I placed it high.

Instead of being annoyed, I smiled and replied that I had also applied for license for geared 2 wheelers. I liked the expression he gave.

I was inappropriately dressed for the occasion. A georgette salwar kameez with a slipperly chiffon veil. Half the time I was steadying it. So I decided to put on my back pack to hold it in place. I sat on the Enticer. It must have been a sight. Around 30 men on either side of the street. I was very self conscious and nervous. I tried to kick start thrice, nothing worked. I felt so many eyes on me. I wanted to disappear. I decided to make one last try and it started. The sound was so melodious to my ears. It was smooth from then on. My lost confidence was back. When I was getting back to where I had started from, I felt my face flaunting the poised, cool, biker chic attitude.

The officer told me I'd be getting my license in a week's time. I'm thrilled!