fast lady

this last weekend's highlight was one turbocharged driver who was particularly unforgiving on the braking. the result was a brake failure with serendipitous timing.

after the somewhat dampening discovery that we'd lost our brakes along the way, wise counsel prevailed followed by a small detour to the nearest mechanic. a near nanogenarian, resembling an oracle in his obscurity of thought, behind rayban aviators and an impeccable safari suit, narrowed down the problem. "it's the brakes." gee, thanks. but a greased clique of mechanics nodded with unbridled awe.


turns out, we'd driven in to a garage run by the one time royal mechanic of the maharaja of mysore. and this all-knowing owl was the only one trusted with the maharaja's harem of automotive pleasure.


and one stellar specimen, fast lady, from the maharaja's harem shone brightly in a heady mix of her original paint job and warm diffused sunlight in one nondescript corner of raj auto garage.