To Kaza and Within Ft. Maruti Suzuki Jimny | The Rock n Road Experience

If I were to sum up what driving a manual Jimny from comfy Chandigarh all the way up to bitterly cold Kaza was like in just a few words, “flat-out”, “downshift”, “we’ll see”, and “it’ll do it easily” will probably feature more times than you’d expect. To a closet skeptic who liked the idea of a Jimny but didn’t fully understand why, the gutsy Suzuki made a solid pitch. Not for itself, though.

<< Rewind

“It’s almost as if a green Jimny was painted on my windshield”

We’re on the last leg of the drive.  We’ve driven to the highest motorable village in the world a day ago, and sent a postcard back from the world’s highest post office. Bucket list items have been ticked. 

But for most of the drive, we’ve been driving in a convoy of 15+ Jimnys in a neat line. The only instruction we have is to not overtake the lead vehicle.

After nearly a week of driving, though, the lead car trusts us enough to let us pass for a bit. For the first time in a week, I get to soak in the views of the majestic Himalayas. I can’t place a finger on why I was annoyed for not having an unobstructed view of the mountains. 

The mountains may not call you as much as Instagram influencers want you to believe they do, but they will humble you a whole lot. You realize you’re an insignificant speck in the gigantic play of the universe. More importantly, just because you can’t see it, does not mean it’s not there. 

‘You see what you want to. You believe what you want to. Focus on the good.’

‘This is what I’m missing out on’, I mumble to myself. 

<< Rewind

“Switch off the headlights! Switch off the headlights” 

I’ve radio’d the other Jimny that’s driven by Gagan and Zahoor. Seemingly simple request. Except it’s nearly 11pm and we’re in the middle of nowhere up in the Spiti Valley. Considering my fellow petrolheads are as expectedly cuckoo as I am, the lights go off in a split second. 

We slow down for a bit, and I take a moment to look around. There’s absolutely no artificial light around me. The dim orange glow from the instrument cluster of the Jimny feels like a campfire in the distance. I peer out of the window. 

‘It’s a full moon night!’. 

I’m pinching myself through 3 layers of winter clothing. It’s -15°c, and a bright white moon has lit up the sky like a massive flood light. The stars that shine idly, almost feel like there’s one big concert in the sky. The mother nature opera. Few more pinches. 

‘I should be out exploring.’

‘This is what I’m missing out on’, I mumble to myself. 

The lights come on instantly, and we’re driving in the dead of the night again. 

We’ve set out just to experience the beauty of the valley at night. We’d found a plain with the snow-capped mountains in the distance and the bright moon made it a sight worth soaking in. In that moment, the frigid temperature, the abject silence and the sight of two Jimnys parked against gargantuan mountains seemed almost poetic.

The Jimny had been parked in the bitter cold through the day, while we were snug in our heated blankets inside our warm and cozy rooms. It almost felt like the Jimny egged us on to do this. ‘There’s so much to see,’ it probably screamed. I’m now running across the plain, rubbing my hands for warmth, gasping for a little breath before I frame a shaky shot on my phone. The running wasn’t the wisest decision in hindsight. But damn did I feel alive. 

‘This is what I’m missing out on’, I mumble to myself. 

<< Rewind 

We have our convoy leads radio us — ‘there’s a river bed up ahead, lots of rocks, flowing water, engage 4L’. I’m a passenger this time round with Ansh (your friendly CarDekho host) — piloting the Jimny. For a split second, I have this urge to ask him to let me drive. I’d be at ease if I was in control, I thought. I resist. 

The Jimny soldiers on like it’s nothing, almost as if it was too easy.

We’re parked in a place where Google Maps can’t take you to. This feels surreal. The air is crisp, the temperature is in the negative but there’s warmth in the moment. I find myself looking at this stream of Jimnys from the convoy pouring in. Almost like an army of ants marching on. It probably thinks nothing of this terrain. 

“Don’t judge so quickly”, I overhear someone say in the background. It is fitting to what I’m seeing. It’s fitting to what we inevitably end up doing ourselves. The time to think, reflect, process and form an opinion is so compressed, we often end up jumping to conclusions. 

‘I need time.’

‘This is what I’m missing out on’, I mumble to myself. 

<< Rewind

“There’s no way! There’s absolutely no way!” 

I proclaim as I lay the rear seat of the Jimny down. Both Ansh and I have rather large suitcases, and I’ve decided there’s no chance there’s enough room in the boot for them. So the luggage gets thrown haphazardly over the folded rear seat. It then slams, crashes and tumbles its way to Narkanda from Chandigarh on the very first day. I’m very visibly annoyed as we make it to our halt for the day as I grudgingly lug my luggage to the room. 

The next morning, mostly thanks to a good night’s sleep, we’re rather puzzled to see that we’ve approached the luggage problem incorrectly. We’ve also assumed it won’t work. We now have the bags stand in the boot instead. Both large bags fit in with some space to spare. They’re pressed against the tailgate, so they don’t crash and bang as much (just into each other). 

‘Someone told me assume simply means you’ve made an ass of u and me’. 

‘Less assumptions, more attempts.’ 

‘This is what I’m missing out on’, I mumble to myself. 

>> Fast Forward

I find myself in a cozy room in Chandigarh. Getting one final night’s sleep before I fly back to the hustle and bustle of meetings, calls, and everything else we do for a living. In pin-drop silence did I realize that the Rock n Road experience, and in effect the Jimny taught me things. Some that I needed to relearn, some that I needed to practice with more intent. 

As a vehicle, the Jimny tells me it’s always about the size of the fight. In a world that refuses to look beyond surface level, a sense of calm confidence in your own abilities is what leads you to your tribe. 

For those wanting an escape, for those looking for answers and for those wanting to simply explore — the road continues to be the best teacher. 

‘This is what I’m missing out on’, I mumble to myself.