Odai stretched his legs and smoothed
out his suit before settling into the driving seat of his vehicle. Orange wasn’t
his favourite colour, he’d have rather driven a blue – green spitfire combo but
then the choice didn’t really lie with him. He was sure even Lewis Hamilton (he
found it easier breaking that up to Huh -
mill – tone) never thought of these minor hiccups on race day. Having
comfortably seated himself, he looked around to see a sea of faces and a lot
more legs raining down the track moving around purposefully in varying
directions. Everyone had some place to be before the race started. Odai blushed every time a fan stopped, smiled
and waved at him. It must have been his nerves or their excitement that their
wishes sounded like an alien language, though accompanied by a smile so he just
assumed them to be wishes. The varying moods across the other drivers could be
pinned down to the rainbow spectrum. From the curly haired one couple of paces
behind with his flushed red cheeks while another one beside him seemed deep in
concentration having a tough time chewing something and the violet aura of
frustrating hard work underlined his guess. Odai knew, today was the day he was
going to prove it to everyone that he had it in him to be racing for Bahrain in
the Grand Prix someday. He closed his eyes for a moment and rushing through
came the images of his brother Ali holding him into the winds as their
speedboat sped towards Hawar Islands on a family picnic. His eyes had watered
and each strand of hair had felt alive at that moment. He wished for that same experience
now with him tearing down into the winds and maybe fast enough to fly with them.
The next few minutes seemed to have fallen into a void for the next thing he knew, he was gripping the steering wheel as hard as he could, swerving around as he negotiated the crooked turns the track offered. His feet pressed downwards as hard as he could, try to pull every bit of muscle power his vehicle could muster. The sea of faces were a blur , the wheels and the track seemed to have rubbed each other the wrong way as his ride became bumpier than he expected, but all these issues were trivial in his pursuit of greater purpose – A Bahraini as the world’s fastest driver. Everything else was a blur, but not the advertising. Persistence of vision is something sponsors understood real well and made sure that repeating the same image over a distance ensured whatever the speed, you still managed to figure out that Cornelius Rooster was pecking for you on behalf of Kelloggs and the smiling red cow had to be “La Vache qui rit”. Odai simply pressed harder and focussed on completing this race. Along the turn, he let his eyes off the track for a split second, distracted by the light bouncing off a couple of pairs of ripe melons, but quickly managed to get his vehicle back on track. He could do without such distractions till the end of the race.
He knew he was doing well on pace for he hadn’t spotted another competitor for a while now after a brief tussle with the curly haired boy, a couple of corners before. He had managed to squeeze through to the front for a few minutes before Odai boxed him into a corner, which probably put him under high duress for he went off course at the next corner, allowing Odai to retain his pole position. The Bahrain national anthem was now ringing in Odai’s ears and he seemed very pleased with his performance today, yaani he was as fast as a Ferrari. Faster and faster he urged the car, to speeds he hadn’t been confident to hit in earlier runs. Everything seemed perfect today till that last corner. To his horror, the vehicle was no longer responding to his driving. He tried hitting the brakes hoping he could bring it back to manageable speeds and take the turn but the monster wouldn’t listen to brakes or the steering wheel. He was headed straight towards the stands. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable with a prayer on his lip. Soon after a sharp jerk, he felt serenity and calmness being restored to his universe. The car had finally come to a halt. He closed his eyes even tighter not wanting to see the mayhem and destruction he had brought upon. Soon he felt a tug pulling him into the sky. He ignored it but soon found himself lifted into the air. He could hear voices, familiar and unfamiliar ones growing louder. He opened his eyes when he heard his mom’s voice utter, “Alhamdulillah, once in that trolley car, he is in his own world and doesn’t disturb with the shopping. Odai, look who we bumped into at Zulu Supermarket.”
The next few minutes seemed to have fallen into a void for the next thing he knew, he was gripping the steering wheel as hard as he could, swerving around as he negotiated the crooked turns the track offered. His feet pressed downwards as hard as he could, try to pull every bit of muscle power his vehicle could muster. The sea of faces were a blur , the wheels and the track seemed to have rubbed each other the wrong way as his ride became bumpier than he expected, but all these issues were trivial in his pursuit of greater purpose – A Bahraini as the world’s fastest driver. Everything else was a blur, but not the advertising. Persistence of vision is something sponsors understood real well and made sure that repeating the same image over a distance ensured whatever the speed, you still managed to figure out that Cornelius Rooster was pecking for you on behalf of Kelloggs and the smiling red cow had to be “La Vache qui rit”. Odai simply pressed harder and focussed on completing this race. Along the turn, he let his eyes off the track for a split second, distracted by the light bouncing off a couple of pairs of ripe melons, but quickly managed to get his vehicle back on track. He could do without such distractions till the end of the race.
He knew he was doing well on pace for he hadn’t spotted another competitor for a while now after a brief tussle with the curly haired boy, a couple of corners before. He had managed to squeeze through to the front for a few minutes before Odai boxed him into a corner, which probably put him under high duress for he went off course at the next corner, allowing Odai to retain his pole position. The Bahrain national anthem was now ringing in Odai’s ears and he seemed very pleased with his performance today, yaani he was as fast as a Ferrari. Faster and faster he urged the car, to speeds he hadn’t been confident to hit in earlier runs. Everything seemed perfect today till that last corner. To his horror, the vehicle was no longer responding to his driving. He tried hitting the brakes hoping he could bring it back to manageable speeds and take the turn but the monster wouldn’t listen to brakes or the steering wheel. He was headed straight towards the stands. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable with a prayer on his lip. Soon after a sharp jerk, he felt serenity and calmness being restored to his universe. The car had finally come to a halt. He closed his eyes even tighter not wanting to see the mayhem and destruction he had brought upon. Soon he felt a tug pulling him into the sky. He ignored it but soon found himself lifted into the air. He could hear voices, familiar and unfamiliar ones growing louder. He opened his eyes when he heard his mom’s voice utter, “Alhamdulillah, once in that trolley car, he is in his own world and doesn’t disturb with the shopping. Odai, look who we bumped into at Zulu Supermarket.”
1 comment:
Fantastic!
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