Mini-story
The Minis transported people in Manipur till about the mid-90s. They ran on the rather narrow streets of Imphal, occasionally coming to a full halt on days when a bandh was called. I have asked a few friends who had the fortune of growing up in the 90s, what they remember and how they felt about the turtle-looking taxis. Some say they called them ‘tempos’ while some say they just remember the round headlights.
My limited knowledge about automobiles made me conclude a long time ago that they were Volkswagen Vans, only less iconic looking than the ones where hippies conceive children in. They may well have been made by other manufacturers. There is no telling. One thing is for sure. They were left there by the British.
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To me, they looked like grandmothers with bent backs. To a certain degree, this was true. These Minis had been through a lot – the clash between the NATO & the Japanese soldiers, the Bollywood bell-bottomed fad, and the early 90s rock & roll wave.
It’s a shame they had to retire too early, way before the Instagram generation. The only mileage they received were their ventures on dirt roads through unrests induced by ego, power, stupidity, greed and misplaced senses of self-righteousness.
I always wanted to sit inside one of them. I never did get the chance but I would imagine what it would be like. I pictured people sitting face to face with their knees banging into each other. It was gloomy. And if your stop came, you would scuffle as the backdoor opened either sideways or upwards – I don’t remember too well.
To this day, I think about those Minis and regret not having been inside one.
