Text: Maria John      Photos: Various Sources

The grand old lady of the Indian roads laid to rest with many families in attendance.

An icon that could pack more than childhood memories could hold. A flailing of arms and legs that ensured that even chottu would fit in with all eleven of you. We were proud when we could make more space and revelled in our super power to adjust even more. We were proud when we channeled our inner gymnast to grab grandma’s halwa over your cousin’s cousin’s feet. We were proud when even Rocky could come on the trip with his tail wagging. We were proud when all of us could fit in with Aunty Tara’s foreign luggage and sped (more dawdled) to the airport so far away. We rushed Amma when she started her prayers before every journey so that Appa could play the music. We froze in the over efficient air conditioning and exercised our wiry arms rolling down the windows. The brand new leather grip to the steering wheel was always a fascination. And the breakdown of the car and yourself, marked the years that you grew up in. Punctured tires replaced, hot engines doused in drinking water and constant rumble of the engine which was a background track. The Ambassador was truly a king in every household. Washed down daily with love by ThankappanChettan and taken to the workshop almost every other day. It was a friend, an ally and an enemy at the best of times. But the Ambassador was a gentleman’s car, a sign of stature for established families and the sign of power for our politicians. The company might have stopped production, but the car will live on through many a family photo album. It was the ultimate Indian MUV, a title that is fought over by so many automobile manufacturers these days. The best bet yet on the Amby, as it was lovingly called, was when it won the world’s best taxi award organized by Top Gear. “The winner (best taxi in the world) was India’s virtually indestructible Hindustan Ambassador. It’s so tough that, although it now lives in World of Top Gear, with a quick wash and brush up, it could be back in service tomorrow – probably,” reads a statement from UK-based Motor Museum, Beaulieu.
The white ambassador was a welcome sight, the yellow and black ones waited impatiently at every transportation hub for passengers. The blue and purple ones were for the more adventurous. It multiplied as an ambulance with a wailing siren, a few banana leaves and garlands made it the ‘function’ car and an open boot with boxes strapped to it with rope made it the ultimate road trip vehicle. The ambassador reminds one of a simpler childhood, emptier roads and when starting trouble wasn’t just a phrase. Huffing and puffing past its golden jubilee, finally the memories have been laid to rest.

MEMORABLE MENTIONS

Mark Tully in Hindustan Times

“In those days, whenever I went out for a story, I found myself ending up in an Ambassador. I have done thousands of such journeys and we would often stop at a roadside mechanic since anybody could fix it in India those days: It was the only car of note!”

 

Suketu Mehta in Maximum City

“The Ambassador is actively ugly but loveable in the way elephants are, with a jaunty visor and a wide grin. The Ambassador ad isn’t really touting the virtues of space. It’s saying that the kind of people to drive an Ambassador will always make more room. It is really advocating a reduction of personal physical space and expansion of the collective space.”

 

Anita Desai in A Devoted Son

“For some years Rakesh worked in the city hospital, quickly rising to the top of the administrative organization, and was made a director before he left to set up his own clinic. He took his parents in his car—a new, sky-blue Ambassador with a rear window full of stickers and charms revolving on strings—to see the clinic when it was built.”