JournalismPakistan.com April 29, 2013
There was a time I could engage in rapier sharp fencing with the best of them. Now, I lose out to everyone including the parrot. This complex manifested itself alarmingly in Dubai the other day when I took the car to the mechanic to check out a “tickticktick” sound.
I said, there’s a “ticktick” sound that goes “tuchatuch” at over 80. He sneered like only car mechanics can sneer and said, the dittlewat in the thingummy has gone.
I said...oh it has, has it, what can we do, believing naively that collective responsibility might make things smooth.
Without glancing at the car, he said, we’ll have to change the watchmecallit and then recrank the camshaft minor rod so that there is no damage to the fiddlebit.
I said I couldn’t stand it if the fiddlebit was damaged, fiddlebits being very close to my heart.
He said, and I think the gleebobs in the gearbox are worn out so unless you want the rotary teeth to break you’d better open up the engine and look into the pistons.
I said, he was the boss, ha ha, and anyway, looking at pistons was one of his strengths and no one would drive on the highway with a messed up gleebob. He said, well, it’s your car, the sentence spoken at that level of contempt and derision matched only by teenage children towards their parents. I said, of course I agree with you, we have to put the old girl right.
So, 10 days later, having paid a small fortune in cabs, and a large fortune in repairs I drove out with a fresh thingummy and a spanking new fiddlebit.
Inside 10 minutes the “tickatickatick” was back, only this time emphasized by an “a” note between ticks. I took it back, apologized for the inconvenience and said, the sound is still there.
He said, well, what do you expect, you never changed the engine giddlebunt or the catchratchet in the axle base.
I said how silly me, all my fault, apologize, apologize.
The sound is still there. See what I mean. I never win. If I ever walk out of the house in style, I am back in seconds because I left my briefcase behind. Sheepish, that’s me. Reach customs and I cannot find the right keys. Put the alarm on and it won’t go off. Buy tickets to a match and be sure there’s a pillar obstructing the view. Wear a new short and the collar button breaks.
In fact, I recall a fascinating story I must relate except the computer has a virus.
(The writer is a Senior Editorial Advisor of Khaleej Times and the paper’s former Editor. He has also been the Editor of Gulf News, Gulf Today, Emirates Today and Bahrain Tribune)
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