Next week I have got a week full of exams in school. These exams are covering most of my subjects from Resmat to Maths. One of the exams I have to sit is English Language. I was doing some past papers for revision when I stumbled across a question, which asked me to pretend writing an article on a blog. So I thought: I am a blogger anyway, so there is no need to pretend. This post is in response to the exam question. Not only does it act as revision, it will also hopefully act as a post you’ll enjoy reading.
The question is:
I was on summer vacation and I had gone to India to not only enjoy a holiday, but also visit family. I had spent a couple of weeks in Mumbai and decided to escape with my parents and paternal grandparents to my grandfather’s village bungalow in the rural parts of Maharashtra. Once we reached there I was pleasantly surprised to see some members of my extended family.
The day after I arrived at Poladpur, my grandfather’s home village. My family and I decided to take a visit the fort of Pratapgad, which is a famous location in Maharastran history, as it is the location where King Shivaji beat Afzar Khan in a battle. There were lots of us, about 9. At the time I was seven and my two cousins were even smaller so we managed to cram ourselves into a seven seater car in typical Indian fashion. There was also a driver.
We had devoured down a delicious lunch before we left and thank God we did. We left in the afternoon and embarked on what should have been a hour journey. We were about half way through the journey when we began to climb the lush green mountain of Pratapgad.
The view was great and the wind gushing through the open windows hitting my sun baked face felt even nicer. Everything was jolly until we got a little further up the mountain. We were climbing a steep slope and the car got slower and slower until we stopped. We then rolled back a little, before we came to a standstill.
The driver unleashed upon us an unfortunate piece of news. He solemnly said that our tank had run out of fuel. We were half way up a mountain; stuck halfway up a mountain; with an empty tank.
We got off the car and tried to call for help, using mobiles as well as looking for help close by. As always happens in these situations; there was no mobile signal; and being halfway up a mountain, where nobody lived, there was no help either. We were truly stranded.
I was seven and the event was my problem to worry about but it was certainly a time of tension and for the first time in my life I swore in front of my parents out of the frustration of being isolated with no help in the middle of what seemed to be nowhere.
I was uncertain about what would happen and not feeling too great. My grandfather was having a go at the driver, who hadn’t done his job properly. He hadn’t paid attention to the fuel gauge and as a consequence we were now left despondent with no diesel left.
We stayed at the same location for about an hour, before luck came our way. A bus came down the mountainside. We managed to stop it and hitchhike a ride back home. I felt relieved and looking back on it I think we were very lucky that bus came down.
P.S. I know we got the car back, but I don’t know/remember how.