The engine roars to life. As eager as a million dollar Ferrari. Who’d say that this puny 800cc machine has been lying idle, ignored and dead as a dodo for the past 10 days? (Sorry for ignoring you baby!!L)

It lets out a muted roar, all of its majestic 36 horses (wow!!) now awoken out of their extended slumber. Pulled out of their idyllic hibernation on a lazy Sunday afternoon, all of 144 feet (that’s 36 * 4, silly) want to blast the car out of the clasp of earth’s gravitational pull. Trust me, they are capable of doing it, its all in the driver’s mind.

This car is a far cry from the luxury cocoons we are used to traveling in. I, for one, had been cosseted in a Xing replete with electric windows, air conditioning, central locking and nice, nice music. The M800, on the other hand – well, in a nutshell, there’s nothing electric about it, other than the experience of course. Not even an electric starter, you have to crank it up manually. (ok – I made up the last one) There’s power steering, yes you have to apply a lot of power to steer it around. The windows – ah, what novelty. There’s a small lever that must be rotated. Rotate it one way and the windows roll down, roll it the other way, and viola, they roll up. Brilliant stuff! The doors shut with a loud thwack, not a sophisticated thump that I was so starting to get used to. Get it rolling and it explodes in a cacophony of the most vivid sounds audible to the human auricular system. Sounds from the rattling windows, clutter from the half-wrecked chassis and hitherto unheard sounds from every conceivable part of the vehicle. Talk of music; this is what real music is. Its all in the driver’s mind.

But its all not bad, if it were, I wouldn’t be writing this piece.

The seating is low, and a real enthusiast (a crazy one for sure) would feel like he’s in a brilliant sports coupe. (not a humungous truck as the “tall boys” make one feel) It makes the driver feel one with the road, and how! The suspension, tattered, battered and bruised with years of selfless service, transmits every bump and its smallest relative back to the driver. What feedback! The steering position and the seating posture transport you into the cabin of a Ferrari, within moments – I told you, its all in the mind. Steering is precise, all in the driver’s mind.

This car has heart, and a huge one at that. Floor the accelo, dump the clutch, and it races forward like a Ferrari on a race track (mind again) Front tyres squealing, rear ones dying to catch up. The smell of burnt rubber. Wind in the hair. Exhilaration. Paradise. All in the driver’s mind.

This is by far THE bestest car in the world. Forget the million dollar Ferraris and Beemers. And forget the billion dollar Maybachs and RRs. This is life - heart, soul and 18 kilometers to a litre. And its all in the driver’s mind.