Mechanical failure

I hate getting an oil change for my car. Most people may think of it as a chore, an annoyance, an excuse to get out of the house, a means of watching stupid court shows on the waiting room TV, reading crappy magazines as a guilty pleasure or to gawk at newer models of cars displayed on the sales side of the dealership (where the TV shows, magazines and coffee are way better, I must say). I treat an oil change with the affection that I have for tooth extraction.


I understand why the oil needs to be changed.....it's just like after using oil for frying pooris or vadais, we would not reuse it. I understand that in the same way that twice-used oil will eventually clog your arteries, so will the unchanged oil clog the engine of your car.  My problem is when the mechanic (let us call him Machiavelli, shall we?) gives me that ingratiating look when I go to pick up the car. I immediately steel myself to say "No", "No" and "No" to all that he says. He starts out with "Nasty weather outside, right Miss?" Curbing my initial urge, I have to say "Yes" since Mother Nature is unleashing some of her PMS right outside the dealership. Before I can recover, he quickly follows it up with " I have good news and bad", with the charming indulgence of one dealing with a kindergartner. "The check engine light that was on, has been switched off at no extra charge, but it's your timingbelttransmissionairfiltercarbeuratorthingamajiggit that needs to be replaced." "Say what?", I blurt out, suddenly wishing that I had not been day dreaming during many a Physics lesson or even when spouse was patiently explaining the internal workings of a car. Too late now, as brother Machiavelli moves in for the kill with ".... and it will just cost you your children's college fund or your antique jewelry. We will take either.....we are not picky, no siree", he finishes with a flourish.


Here is my problem....I love to drive. Whether it is a short jaunt to the grocery store or a long one cross-country, I love the feeling of freedom that I get when I am behind the wheel. However, I have absolutely no clue about what lies beneath the hood of the car.....for all I care, it could be a great big hunk of cheese. So, when Machiavelli announces that something needs to be replaced, I have horrendous visuals of my car literally falling apart down to the nuts and bolts on my ride home if I don't do as he "recommends". It certainly does not help that he adds gravely, "I am simply suggesting this in the interest of safety" and visuals of my offspring flash before me. "Yes", "Yes" and "Yes", I find myself saying to him. "Excellent" he says beaming, "Now, I'll need your signature here, initial here, thumbprint here and as soon as you sign over your life's savings, we will have your car ready"


After convening with members of my gender and sharing these experiences, I have come to realize that I am not alone. I have since formed a Facebook group named Society for Unsuspecting Chicks bilKed by dEvious Repairmen.

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6. Truly badass villains dressed in costume or better yet, in drag: Ah, it was the era of being bad for the sake of being bad. There were none of these modern day portrayals of villainy full of angst and a side-story of how the villain is bad because of childhood abuse or some such lameness. There was no plot that required the hero to show his dark side either. The yesteryear villains reveled in their villainy, wore outrageous costumes, had skimpily dressed women parade around at their whim, had some of the best lines in the film, had a coterie of equally badass assistants, had the best addas in which to go about their business of villainy at and could kill anyone at the drop of a hat.......all done with aplomb and a manic laugh thrown casually in. Mogambo Khush Hua!

7. Lame court scenes: Another staple of movies then was the ubiquitous court scene. It certainly did not matter that the film was a period piece set in the Paleolithic era....there just had to be a court scene complete with judges (and sometimes lawyers) with bad hairpieces, blindfolded lady justice with the scales (the scales would be tilted if the director felt that justice was not being meted out to the suffering heroine) and fake and flimsy enclosures for the accused party (I never understood the purpose of these honestly). Everybody in court also wore those Batman capes and used very fancy sounding urdu words like kaid-e-baamushakkat (sounds like a term of endearment rather than a tough sentence, if you ask me). 


 8. Fight and chase scenes: What movie would be complete without these gems. Screeching tires, cars which always went through dhobi ghats where visibility is hampered by hanging clothes, dhishoom-dhishoom of fists finding their mark, dhichkiyen dhichkiyen of bullets flying and never hitting their mark, people hanging out from the cars over treacherous cliffs, lots of ketchup and broken glass everywhere and horribly inept policemen who always missed their targets or arrived very conveniently at the very end when all the hard work was done. It seemed as though the sound mixers did not have to do much...they just picked out standard sounds and inserted them as required. Even the background score was recycled...you know the one where it seems all very hurried, chaotic and seems as though something big is going to happen any minute and nothing ever does?


9. Long dialogues: This was an innocent age when people had all the time in the world...they could take a few days off from their very important jobs, romance their mehboobaas at a hill station and still come back to their jobs. There would be no questions asked....in fact, many even got a promotion at work on their return. Work was a hobby...something that people would eventually get to after dealing with the more important things in life. Needless to say, the dialogues took the same scenic route. Be it passion, love, outrage, sadness or even death.....everything was unhurried. If someone got hit by a bullet, they would wax eloquent their regret for about an hour with ketchup steadily pouring out of their pristinely laundered white shirt/saree before actually dying.


It is surprising that no one has even felt like me and made a movie with these fantastic winning ideas from the past. Oh, that's right, Farah Khan has. And you say that her last movie was a flop.....outrageous! People have no taste, I tell you......