Heart and Soul: My neighbour’s ‘love affair’

The neighbour's beloved Beetle. — Ramji Narayanan

In the small town where I live, I am blessed to awaken in the mornings to the sweet sound of birdsong but on one particular day I awoke to what sounded like a battle tank. It did not take me long to discover that the noise came from a Volkswagen Beetle in my neighbour Bala’s driveway.

I like classic cars (who doesn’t?) and curiosity drove me to take a closer look. At that time I had known my neighbour for about five years but had never before seen this car on his property. This Beetle, unfortunately, had definitely seen better days: both its exterior and the noise it had made earlier that morning suggested a history of gross neglect.

I wondered what possessed my neighbour to acquire a car in such a poor condition. When I did find out, I was literally bowled over. It’s a long story, but it’s also a love story.

About 50 years ago, Bala required a reliable vehicle because his job involved much touring. After careful thought, he invested in a Volkswagen Beetle.

As an uncomplaining workhorse, it proved to be the right choice. Bala clocked several thousand kilometres, traversing the states along the East Coast, in the course of his work.

Bala with his faithful Beetle.

He used it for about five years and, when he was transferred to another town, he sold it. Why did he do that? Even he is not clear; nevertheless, it wasn’t long before he rued his decision to sell. For years, thereafter, he yearned for his faithful Beetle.

In 1998, wracked by remorse and sick with nostalgia, Bala bought his second Beetle, a 1967 model, from a retired teacher for a princely sum of RM3,600.

The car required some tinkering and a new coat of paint but it was soon humming along and proved to be just as reliable and easy to maintain as the first one. Car and owner were clearly made for each other and Bala’s cup of joy overflowed.

Alas, an acute financial crunch forced Bala to sell this beloved Beetle, too. This parting was as heartbreaking as the first.

A few years ago, shortly before Bala turned 70, his son, while considering a “perfect birthday gift” for his dad, wondered: why not another Beetle? Bala, as you may well guess, jumped at the idea. Soon, father and son went Beetle-hunting.

There were not many old Beetles to be found and those that Bala test-drove just didn’t “feel right”. Bala was discouraged but his son was not. Finally, he had a flash of inspiration: why not track down the last Beetle that Bala owned? Surely it would be around somewhere!

After an exhaustive search, the car was finally traced. To their horror, Bala and his son found the car in a garage in a run-down and totally neglected state.

If cars could feel, this one must’ve felt miserable. If cars could talk, this one was saying “help me before it’s too late”. Its owner had obviously little affection or use for it and, worse, had not even attempted to find it a better home.

When he saw the pathetic state of the Beetle, Bala’s son was moved to tears.

This car had to be rescued, he thought. Happily, it did not take much effort to convince its owner to sell it. It was fortunate that this gentleman was financially strapped and readily agreed to part with the car. A suitable price was negotiated and the necessary paperwork was carried out.

And so, the Beetle returned home back to it’s rightful owner!

With great love and care, not to mention cost, Bala and his son set to work to restore her to her former glory. While she received a full makeover, as many as possible of her original components were carefully identified and retained.

I am told that she is of enviable vintage. By any definition, the Beetle is an iconic vehicle.

Wikipedia informs me that 1966 was an important year for the Beetle because an optional 1300cc engine was made available.

In 1968, the Beetle line underwent a slew of modifications but a few 1967 models were produced for a niche market. These carried the emblem on their rear proclaiming a 1300cc engine just as Bala’s Beetle did. Bala’s car is thus one of a select few and this makes her so much more valuable. I experience vicarious pleasure by just knowing she lives next door, even though she is not mine.

She sits pretty as a picture in Bala’s porch and goes regularly for an outing, something you can sense she looks forward to. She no longer sounds like a battle tank. Instead, there’s a sweetness in the growl of her rear-mounted, air-cooled engine that proudly says, “I’m home! I’m home and no one can take me away!”

When Bala climbs in and engages gear, the car and driver are one – and the love affair is complete.