That's the last thing I saw as I left my car at the parking lot. The paint gleaming from the car wash in the morning, the interior stripped of all the personal touches that would otherwise indicate that this, is my car. The day was starting to get hot as the unusually tranquil morning brought about even more unusual cloudy skies. With the final beep of the keyless entry, marking the final time the car will be locked by me.
Its quite strange that a lot has happened in that car. Although 68120 doesn't seem to be a very significant number, when you think about it...all that distance travelled in it, you begin to think about the experiences, conversations, destinations that you've gone in it, and I guess that's what makes it special. I don't know if I've been very affectionate about my car, it seemed like a means of transport, and yes I did do some modification touches to it, but only today did I really think about the emotional aspect of it - the car that I never named.
Which was strange, because I think in that sense I've grown into a different person in the 3 and a half-odd years or so. I guess that is why somehow we tend to bond more with the car we are driving. It is this unusual relationship with something that at surface level seems to just be a mechanical tool engineered for transport, but when you look at it differently, you will see that it is also a tool to chronicle your life's journey, while taking you there at the same time. In that aspect I think its the reason why it's become an indespensible part of our lives.