Was it not seventeen years ago I fell for you at the first sight and touch and shared many a joy and adventures since.

It was a commitment for life but He willed it otherwise that made you move from under the wings of an Engineer-Surgeon-Artist to a Surgeon to be.

All these years from gay abandon of youth to mellow middle age, I brought you up and looked after you as per your makers book and often beyond.

I'd look you up each morning to see whether the tyres looked any 'under' or you dropped any oil or water, only then you were nudged from your slumber.

I'd idle you at a medium-fast tick over for a minute and then take you for an air-fill if you needed one, relying on my own guage and never on garage ones.

I'd puff you up front to 22 psi and rear 24, if we were to run light but push you upto 28 on rear if you had the full family compliment to carry. The spare would be topped to 40 so if and when needed it never fell short.

You'd then be dusted from inside first using a brush and a pan and finishing with a damp cloth. Then 'I'd splash water on your roof - followed by other horizontal and vertical faces, only to be quickly mopped up if not by a chamois leather, by a clean lint free cloth. Occasionally you got shampooed with Genteel and waxed thereafter.

You were always moved from standstill to just rolling in the first, gently moving into second to fourth, not letting you labour in either and falling below 30 in fourth.

Accelerations were always healthy without a hint of over-revving. On a first class highway, with no surprises in store, we'd let our hair down together and sail along the wind at 120 without tiring ourselves.

Frequently, though at lower speeds, I'd let you steer on your own to make sure you had not lost your balance, either by way of tyres or any other reason.

If ever I had to saddle you with a luggage carrier, it was centered with your door column and firmly secured with rubber tube pieces between you and the clamps, with no more than two suitcases flat on the top, harnessed firmly with a special accessory.

For added highway pleasure, I put in a stereo cassette but you didn’t seem to like the idea. Because you often fouled it up with your asympathetic vibrations, though imperceptible. Thus forcing me to listen only to your beats/ your rhythms/ your hums and drums, all the way-long.

If ever I had to drive you thro’ a puddle of water, I'd watch carefully the cars in front of me. I'd jump into the fray only if I was sure that it wasn’t beyond your knee depth. Even then, you were taken in very very slowly in first gear, because your makers put your DB in a somewhat vulnerable position.

Soon out of the puddle, you were driven some distance in second with left foot lightly on the brake and right on the throttle, to dry up all the water that'd inevitably get into your drums- so you'd be ready for any normal or abnormal braking.

Your hand brake was always well adjusted, so much so that you wouldn’t move even in the first - if not released before hand. Though I took care not to engage it and leave it for long if your 'shoes' were wet.

Your DB points were meticulously set to 17 thou and spark plugs to 25/28 checked and cleaned every 5000 Km and summarily replaced by 15.

You needed a new carb. after almost 20 years and you promptly got one. You also proved it to me that going below 102 on main jet doesn’t really help one way or the other, as you throbbed your best only with 102.

For the last ten years, Your Engine oil 'blood group' was 'Castrol Super' 20/50 multigrade and you did well on it, easily going upto 6000 Km between changes. You did equally well on Veedol eqvt, which you have now. Remember your 'blood' was never mixed up with others, even for topping up.

You got greased every three months and you showed your appreciation to it. Likewise for your brake hydraulics and gear box – differential, which were drained and refilled once in two years. You seemed to need 140 for the latter with your advancing years.

You were never left alone at a Service Station to keep you hands-off the crude attendants, making sure that they didn’t wash you up inside the doors or the boot. These were only air blown and wet-mopped-dry. In fact your engine was also not washed often but brushed clean with paraffin at home.

If and when it was, I'd make sure your DB was well protected and to keep you from 'catching a cold' the next day, I'd take its cap off and leave it to dry it up all with the engine heat - of course with the bonnet closed.

To make sure your 'belt' wasn’t slipping and VR was behaving well, I put in an extra AM, so that if the needle didn’t go beyond zero with all lights on even at high engine revs, I could nab it or if the needle didn’t taper off soon to almost zero after a start, the VR or battery needed looking into.

If at all you fell in somebody's custody even for a while, I'd tell him that your left wheel studs opened clockwise and right side anti-clockwise! A sophistication beyond normal.

You looked and ticked like a human and were always treated as such. On long journeys, your only weakness was your 'throat' turning sore.

At times you even behaved like 'Herbie’, by either not wanting to go where you were being taken, by springing a flat tyre out of the blue or most recently, even misbehaved in front of a prospective groom, for reasons only I could appreciate.

You looked extremely chic in your gleaming black coat and chrome and with your back simply modified, you were a show stopper in traffic. All your gauges and instruments never failed, not even their luminaries. I looped in a Flasher in your brake - stop lights and transferred them to the orange, so that not only you attracted better attention but with a pilot indication on the dash, you also let me know immediately if one of two at the back didn’t work.

I never turned your steering unless you were rolling and all your wheels were always in dynamic balance. You paid it back by vibra-free rides and extra ordinary suspension and steering linkages lives.

The affair was long but abruptly cut short with over-riding priority to your own 'competitor', but despite that, there was and is 'nobody quite like you'.