Finally!

So what if it was a Tata and not a Koenigsegg (yep Primus, one day it shall happen; optimism lives on...in the unlikeliest of places)

It is that feeling that I've only slightly known, courtesy the hand-brake on a Hyundai Santro; that queerly addictive vacuum in the belly, as everything from the intestines to the stomach to the pancreas gets thrown around with merciless g-forces. Ok, in a Santro, they weren't too merciless. Which is exactly why I say I've only "slightly known" the feeling.

It is just the feeling I came just a little closer to experiencing. Never mind it was in a massive Tata mini-truck powered by a wheezing, pitiful 2.0l indirect injection (old Safari) diesel engine. Ugh! Nevertheless, the fuel, tyres, brakes and car were all someone else's. And they were actually exhorting me to go all out for quite a while. Quite in contrast to my dad's (and on another occassion mamma's and sister's) expression when I asked if we could have fun with the Santro's hand-brake.

It is just the feeling I want to know intimately. The smell of burning rubber, the thrill of applying rapid opposite lock as the tail threatens to menacingly overtake the front, the hollow feeling, the delirous joy, the infectious enthusiasm, the satisfied grin. Someday. In a Koenigsegg, possibly. (Pessimism, Primus? Perhaps you'd want to change a few definitions :) )

And then again, there's something about petrol being cheaper on the other side. Always!