The Rustic Emotions

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Reflections of time and journey of abandoned vehicles

About the stories

The Reflections of Time and Journey of Abandoned Vehicles” is a conceptual story that explores the imagined emotions of abandoned vehicles. It delves into the idea of understanding these forgotten machines by giving them a voice, imagining how they might express feelings of pride, hardship, and neglect.

I have always had a deep fascination with rustic, abandoned vehicles—they captivate me in a way that’s hard to explain. Every scratch and every dent tells a story. When I look at them, I find myself reading their history, creating my own narrative from their appearance. Through this storytelling, I bring to life the emotions I imagine these vehicles would express if they could.

My new beginning

I was made with one purpose: to travel the roads, helping small logistics services and delivering goods from place to place. I was waiting in my room, awaiting the day when my journey would finally begin. One rainy season, that moment arrived, and my buyer came and purchased me I was excited and curious, and finally I set out on the road for the first time the next day It felt like a celebration—my owner decorated me with vibrant colors, we traveled through the city, and people turned to admire my fresh, shining appearance. I was new.

That day wasn’t just special for me; my owner’s family was overjoyed. They shared sweets with the neighbors and spoke of me with pride. Friends joined in the celebration, taking me for rides around town. I felt truly valued and was confident that this was just the beginning of a long and fulfilling journey.

I was my owner’s first vehicle, the foundation of his new logistics business. From the very next day, I was put to work, handling deliveries in and beyond the city. The workload was heavy—some days it was hectic. Despite the exhausting routine, my owner trusted me completely, and I took pride in helping his business grow.

But as the business expanded, my owner realized he need to expand his service so soon, a second tempo arrived—bigger, stronger, and capable of carrying heavier loads than I could. The arrival of this new companion lightened my burden, but it also marked the beginning of a shift. My owner’s attention shifted toward the newer, more powerful tempo, it hurt to see his care and affection for me slip away.

Challenges and decline

Over time, I started facing challenges of my own. My engine—the heart that kept me going began to fail, most of the days became struggles. I couldn’t perform the way I once did. Eventually, my owner had to make the difficult decision to sell me. It was heartbreaking. I feared what would come next, afraid that a new owner wouldn’t care for me the way existing owner did.

After a series of inspections, the day came—I was sold. My new owner didn’t waste time, I moved on to my new owner’s place. It was night-time when I arrived, so I couldn’t see much, but something felt off. The area where I was parked seemed messy and cluttered. When the sun rose the next morning, I finally saw where I had ended up—a scrap yard. It was a scrap shop. My new owner didn’t waste time. He took me to a welding shop and started building a frame on my carrier. By the next day, I was back to work, but things felt different—this wasn’t the life I had known.

I was back to work with my new owner. He drove me to a spot and parked me there. As I waited, my mind drifted to a sweet memory from the past.

“I remembered a long trip I had once taken, transporting parcel boxes for an urgent delivery. It was winter, and the journey led me through a forest section. My owner had assigned a new driver since he was busy with other work. The road was soft, the air crisp, and we travelled through the dark forest, alongside a river and rolling hills. It was an amazing journey. The driver stopped at a tea shop late that night, and as he sipped his tea, I soaked in the peaceful atmosphere. That memory mesmerized me—it was one of the most wonderful trips I’d ever had.”

Suddenly, a huge weight crashed onto my carrier, jerking me out of my thoughts. The pain was instant—it was a heavy vehicle engine, carelessly dumped on me. More rods and junk were forcibly loaded onto my carrier, hurting my body. I couldn’t believe how badly I was being treated.

The end of the road life

The years went by, and my condition worsened. Scratches, worn tires, and breakdowns became my new normal. Eventually, I suffered a major failure. After a garage inspection, the mechanic confirmed what I had feared—fixing me would require extensive repairs, and my owner wasn’t sure if I was worth saving. He promised to decide soon, but weeks turned into months, and I was left in the garage yard. A year after the garage moved, I was left behind, forgotten. I feel abandoned and am decaying. Deep down, I believed I could still make a comeback if someone cared enough. Unfortunately, I feel that day never came.


Life on the road

I came onto the road with a specific purpose—purchased by a construction company to transport materials like sand, cement, stone, metal, etc. From the second day after I was purchased, I began my daily runs, carrying loads to and from the construction sites. My driver, an experienced and elderly man, cared for me with great attention. Every day, he would wash me and perform minor services himself and ensure I was always in good condition. Despite the heavy work, each morning I looked fresh, and I feel great about his meticulous care. Those were good times.

Once a week, I got a full day of rest—every Sunday. But on regular days, my work began at 8:30 in the morning and usually ended around 5:30 in the evening, though sometimes it stretched as late as 9 or 10 p.m. Every morning, before we started the day, my driver would perform a small ritual. He would worship God, place a flower on me, light an incense stick, and say a prayer before starting our journey. In the afternoon, he’d sit in the cabin for lunch, enjoying the homemade tiffin, and after lunch, he would take a nap.

Life of heavy loads

My life was spent mostly traveling over rough, unfinished roads. I was the only vehicle available, responsible for carrying and delivering all the materials. Every load I carried was heavy, and at times it was difficult to transport. But I managed because I was new and full of energy. I’ve always been a slow-moving vehicle due to the weight, and because of this, I often ended up causing traffic jams too.

The most interesting part was my bath. My driver would take me to a small riverside for a water wash, and the experience was amazing—I enjoyed it every time. After the wash, I felt free from all the tiredness and looked fresh. And a bad incident happened; one day after unloading a shipment, I was reversing when my rear wheel sank into the edge of a small pond filled with muddy water. I don’t know how hard my driver and the workers tried, they couldn’t get me out. After hours of struggle, they finally had to call in another truck to pull me out with a rope, that day was terrible.

A rare break

That was an unforgettable day, a rare break from my rough duties. I was used as a passenger vehicle for the first time. The driver took his family, three of them on a trip to the beach. It was a Sunday evening, and since I was already scheduled to pick up sand from the beach, he decided to bring them along. After loading the sand, I parked by the beach, and they spent a couple of hours enjoying the waves and the sunset. Once they were ready to leave, we headed back home. That night, I was parked at the driver’s house, and the next morning, we returned to the construction site to unload the sand.

The building was being constructed by two partners, but for some reason, the project was halted after a couple of years. I was parked at the construction site and left untouched. As days went by, I hoped the work would resume, but it never did. A year passed, and I remained there, exposed to dust, rain, and the harsh sun. Over time, my body faded, but I remained in perfect working condition to work like before. Only God knows when I’ll be called back to duty. Until then, I wait, hoping for the day I can be of use once more.


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