mahindra bolero desert storm by bsm

JANUARY 2010 BUSINESS STANDARD MOTORING 173172 BUSINESS STANDARD MOTORING JANUARY 2010

There’s no better way ofcelebrating nine years ofthe Mahindra Bolero thanby sharing experiencesand interacting with the

very people who make this car thesuccess it is. The SUV has beennumber one on the sales chartsconsistently, and we were keen to putthe vehicle through its paces tounderstand what makes the Bolerosuch a best-seller. Only, this was notthe beginning I’d bargained for. HereI am on day one of the BSM BoleroVictory Lap trying to curb a Gujaratpoliceman’s enthusiasm to use thehood of his Bolero to write me achallan. His reason – the yellow stripeacross my right headlamp wasmissing. He compared his car to theone I’m driving and insists that mineought to have it regardless of thestate it’s registered in. ‘In the land ofGandhi, it’s only Gandhi that works,’he informed me and a hundred

rupees changed hands before my carwas deemed fit to ply on Gujarathighways. It didn’t take long thoughbefore another Bolero-pilotingpoliceman threatened to impound thecar and imprison us for not producingthe original car documents. Althoughhe was nice enough to leave theMahatma out of the matter and let usoff with a stern warning instead.

We’d been on the road just a touchover nine hours and it’s surprisinghow quickly the 592 kilometers ofsuperb blacktop had blurred thescenery as soon as we left Mumbai.The Bolero’s 97 horses ensured thatthe drive was a breeze, and thespeedo effortlessly cruised into threedigit territory. Armed with a host ofgizmos for entertainment, me andAditiya, my camera-wielding friend,had pre-decided that Ahmedabadwould be our stop for the night. Hisreason was two-fold – his parentslived there and more so, the Amul

BSM BOLERO VICTORY LAPI SSUE SPECIAL

STORMDesert

We take Mahindra’s Bolero to celebratenine years of being on the road

TEXT JOSHUA CRASTO

PHOTOS ADITIYA DEVABHAKTUNI & JOSHUA CRASTO

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factory served up some deliciouscheese-crusted pizzas and gulab jamuns.Our brand-spanking-new Bolero ferriedus effortlessly with the odometer tickingaway furiously, but it also seemed toattract a lot of attention from hitchhikersand other road users alike. It was prettyevident that our sticker-clad car stoodout from the scores of other Boleros onthe road that rule the roads here inGujarat. The rugged SUV is a favouritehere because it can easily take a beatingon the bumpy back roads and still ferryyou in comfort. At one stop, we had abunch of villagers at a dhaba who werekeen on travelling in the comfortable

confines of our city-slicking Storm. Wedid oblige, but they seemed to be goingsomeplace else which left them ratherdisappointed. This Amul Café, I thought,must be the business as I noticedAditiya’s salivation build to a crescendoas we inched closer to Gujarat on one ofthe superhighways that make up theGolden Quadrilateral. Ahmedabad, savethe much popular café, was in shambles.An ever-present dust cloud loomedabove as the smog settled down close tosundown. Pyres of plastic and rubber atstreet corners kept the city warm. Asfor the Café, I must say that Aditiya’staste buds were spot on, as the gulab

jamuns had me on a perfect sugar buzz.Five cheese-crusted pizzas were packedfor lunch. Bliss.

AHMEDABAD TO

JAISALMER

Animal InstinctIt was an early start to Jaisalmer. Wewanted to not only make it to Jaisalmer,but try and explore the area and drive tillwe got to no man’s sand. Actually, it wasmore a case of running away from thepurgatory before the evil spirits awoke.A little research told us that the roadsleading from here up to Jaisalmer were

Our sticker-clad Bolero stoodout from the scores of other

Boleros on the road...

Torquey the Bolero might be, but messing with the horned bovines is notadvised! No matter where you go, aBolero is likely to be in your slipstream.Drives like this one are always hardwork – just look at Josh pumping hardto earn his fuel!

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Not a very fetching profile, but gets thejob done. Just like dear ol’ Josh, then! TheBolero magically made alleys slightlywider than itself


quite fantastic – arrow straight and assmooth as glass. So I decided to get alittle more adventurous and get onto theback roads once we crossed the borderinto Rajasthan at Palanpur. It wasactually a shortcut to Shanchor whichwould lead us to NH15. Rajasthan iswhere the Bolero would come into itsown. As far as ride and handling isconcerned, the Bolero has always been awinner, but its winning ways becomemore apparent when we tackled theharsh, barren and unforgiving terrain.We passed a number of car wrecks, but what was more alarming was theroadkill splattered all over this districtroad. I stopped counting as soon as the toll turned to double digits. And itwas less than an hour that we’d beenout here.

We were two pizzas down when theBolero’s rather helpful fuel astrologerwarned that we were runningprecariously low on fuel. The vehicle’svoice assist system is a neat feature and provides timely advice on keyparameters while driving. We pulled intothe next gas station to be greeted by RajSingh, the fuel attendant. He was reallypleased to hear that I was a journalist

and thought that I was the man whowould lead his village to redemption. Hequickly began to explain how potablewater was the source for much chaos inthis area and just the previous day thepolice has clashed with locals as thelatter broke the top of a fresh water tankto help themselves. It took me a while toexplain to him what I really did beforehis moustache curled up and a large grinwas plastered across his face as hebegan to explain that it was actually acar like mine that he drove for a livingand today was filling in for regulars whohad a wedding to attend. His Bolero wasbattered, but ran like clockwork evenwith over 100,000 km on the odo andonly saw the doc when it went for aregular oil change. Built to last, as theysay!! The last of the cheese-crustedpizzas were heated on the hood of thecar before we drove deep into the sandy

recesses of Rajasthan.Now here’s a

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JANUARY 2010 BUSINESS STANDARD MOTORING 179

through this place and Indian touristsare rare. Here, camels are the norm andthere aren’t too many motorised vehicles.He was curious to know if the Bolerowas as versatile as his camels. Theanswer was that the Bolero is almost asversatile as camels in the desert, but Ihad to tell him that our Bolero’s CRDeengine didn’t deliver power to all fourhooves, so his camels were one up. Butthen I popped the back to reveal whatwe’d raided from the military surplusstore in Barmer. He was truly surprised.

For him, we were driving a trulyluxurious work camel, er… horse.

This hamlet, as one British girl I metput it, is very mellow. You literally sitback and enjoy your breakfast as a camelor goat sometimes pops in to share somewith you. Life goes by at a tranquil paceand all that matters here is the sand, sunand the stars. We ought to have beenwell on our way to Jodhpur today, butAditiya and I unanimously decided tosoak up the peace and quiet as well asexplore the little gullies inside the

Jaisalmer fort for the usual photo-op. We also visited Dr Bhang at the‘government-approved’ store andstocked up on cookies that were going to keep us in high spirits during thatlong and arduous camelback ride into the Khuri dunes that we were going toundertake tonight. We’d to leave Trusty– our two-hoofed camel – behind. Itwould have been the perfect Lawrencein Arabia experience with the camels,the rustling cactii and the wide expansesof the night sky, but for Aditiya’s muted

178 BUSINESS STANDARD MOTORING JANUARY 2010

misconception most people have, my co-driver being one of them. He’d bracedhimself to see endless stretches ofbarren lands, with thorny shrubs andlittle else. But along the way, herds ofNilgai and black bucks presented

themselves rather fearlessly, as theyapproached the Bolero on the side of thehighway. Camels, of course, were a fixedpart of the scenery until we drove pastJaisalmer into the setting sun and intothe Desert National Park in Khuri. Westopped for a quick photo-op before we felt the silent gaze of prying eyesinvade our space. First a deer, a flock ofvultures looming low and then theglistening eyes of a skulk of foxes.Aditiya and I didn’t have to think – wewere on the gas, wheels spinning, the

Bolero charging through the arid landleaving behind a dust cloud and somehungry wildlife. Khuri, here we come!

Khuri is a small village to the southwest of Jaisalmer which has a fewtourist lodges and luxury tents. Butthere’s a gentleman by the name ofBadal Singh who opens his village houseto those wishing to have that rusticdesert experience. He was quitesurprised to see us drive up to his houseand his kids were even more intriguedby the Bolero. Not many people pass

...on the gas, wheels spinning,the Bolero charging through

the arid land...

Josh usually likes lots of animals – on hisplate. But this time, he was more likely tobe the prey! The winged one looks like itcould take Josh, though camels areknown to have a liking for Bandra boys

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groans after his ride on a stirrup-lesscamel – part of the character-buildingexercise, I told him.

JAISALMER TO

JODHPUR

Sand to StoneWe left Khuri rather late in the day,heading west to Jodhpur. The sun wasscorching down on us and as we left thecity, and Bolero’s rugged looks ensuredthat we always had enthusiastic peopleeager to hitch a ride with us. The firstpassenger for the day – a weaponstrainer with the army. He’d beenpreviously posted in Mumbai, but wasnew to Rajasthan and was very kicked toknow that people actually had jobs likemine. Subtle attempts to reveal his piecefailed, but as he got off at this littlevillage, the bulge at his ankle revealed itall. A bunch of locals were next to hitcha ride to their work site. The perks ofgiving them a ride was that they pointedus towards a dusty back road that savedus some time, time we then spentclimbing the sides of blasted mountainfaces, sliding around in gravel andgenerally putting on a show for thelocals. Safe yet rugged, the Bolero isreally like a gladiator.

Post lunch, Aditiya took to the wheelwhile I decided to catch a quick nap. Thecomfortable seats and the powerful AClulled me into a nice snooze. We’d barelyturned on to NH114 and gathered somedecent momentum when in a splitsecond, I found myself summoning theLord as a loud sound woke me up.Aditiya swerved to the left and was onthe dirt, holding on for dear life as he hitthe brakes and screeched to a halt.Trailer, clipped, rear end, broken car,cops – troubling images floated in myhead. In the rear view mirror Aditiyasaw the trailer fishtail to a stop. Wewere out and checking the car –perfectly intact. The truck driver waspeeking out of his cabin wondering whatwe were up to. Then a villager appearedfrom the bushes and solved the mystery.The truck’s rear tyres exploded at theexact moment that we passed him,causing this minor shockwave and majorconfusion. True to itself, the Bolero was


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The snoring sleeping bag kept preda-tors at bay. The night before, Josh was indoctrinated into a cult aroundthe bonfire. The other photos are tocheer you up


indeed whipping up a storm! By the timewe got to Jodhpur, the mercury haddropped well below what a tropical birdlike myself is used to, so we grabbed aquick bite and took shelter in acomfortable hotel room. Running hotwater and a television too. Photographyand the Bolero can wait.

JODHPUR TO JAIPUR

Changing Colours

Today was meant to be an easy day withjust under 300 km to Jaipur, so we spenta good amount of time up near theMehrangarh fort and intricate JaswantThada – the hundred year old memorialof Maharaja Jaswant Singh. Once youget to the top of Mehrangarh, the clutterof bright blue village houses revealthemselves and only then do youunderstand why Jodhpur is dubbed theBlue City. It’s almost noon by the time

we leave for the Pink City. The Bolero’sodo’s well past the 2000km mark. She’sgot layers of dirt, grains of sand andsplattered bugs to show for them. Wepick up our first hitchhiker for the day, avillager who’s come to buy provisions forhis family. We load up his sack in theback and we’re off. We share a kachoriwith him as he shares his enthusiasm ofriding shotgun. He’s never done it beforein a car like this, he says with a broadsmile. Soon, we wave him off and are onour way. We’re just about a 100 kaysfrom Jaipur and it’s back to civilisationand toll roads. The sun is fast settingand we decide it’s time to groom ourroad-trip buddy, the Bolero, for the city,rather than try and rush in for a photo-op. It’s actually a sin to wash a car inthis part of the world where water isscarce and barely potable. But thegentleman at the dhaba assures us thatif we don’t, he’ll be out of business. So,

for a princely sum of 200 rupees, he firesup his diesel pump and hands me ahose. Aditiya agrees that it was both meand Trusty that got hosed that time.

Jaipur is quite a fun city if you ask me – a healthy blend of old and new. It was well after dark when we got there and I just had to go get myfill of lassi served in a kulhadfrom a place I’d been to fiveyears ago. All I knew wasthat it was in the Pink Cityand that it was close to theHawa Mahal. So we drovearound fruitlessly till wefound ourselves lockedin the gardens of theAlbert Hall Museum.The roads thattraverse the gardensare part of the city’sroads during theday, but post 10 pm


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It yumped, pirouetted through alleys,made advances on white Bolerosand was faster than rickshaws.Earned its wash, it did


you’re a prisoner and only a couple ofhundred to the khaki brigade’s fund willunlock the chains that lock the gatesshut. With the Lassi Run failing, wedrove to the outskirts of the city to get a glimpse of the Jal Mahal and then aneerie yet furiously fast midnight hillclimb up to Nahargarh.

JAIPUR - AGRA - DELHI

The Golden Triangle

Jaipur by day is an evil twin of the cityat night. People, animals and prettymuch everything that exhales pour out

into the streets to make them their own.For me, it was actually a blessing indisguise because I was able to find mykulhad-served lassi, but Aditiya had hishands full, trying to shoot the car beingshoved by shop-keepers and cops alike. Imust say that the Bolero’s flat torquecurve ensured that we didn’t have toshift gears frequently, and made thedrive through crowed streets a cinch. We got out before things got too chaoticand I decided that we were going tocomplete what I’d like to call the GoldenTriangle – Jaipur, Agra and Delhi today. Icall it that because the region will stage

a landslide victory against any other forthe highest concentration of people and cattle alike. And if there’s ever aconsensus done, their favourite pastimewill be crossing the road. Thankfully forme, the Bolero’s got great road presenceand if you see something that big withthat loud turbo growl hurtling in yourdirection, you’re likely to hustle. NH 11that leads you out of Jaipur to Agra is afour-laned dream and I’m pretty surethat the toll money they collect on thisroad is actually the entrance fee to anexhibition of people crossing the road.There was everything from crushed cars

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to mangled bodies and roadkill. We werenow passing through hell. At a rest stop,a curious gentleman walked up to meand inquired about the Storm. He waslooking to upgrade his fleet of Armadasin his organisation. I explained to himthe concept of the CRDe engine, themodern design of the car and generallythe more luxurious feel that he’d beenmissing out on in his Armadas.

If the highway was bad, Agra waseven worse. Auto rickshaws, cyclerickshaws and tourist taxis rushing tothe Taj Mahal could care a damn when itcame to other road users. The Bolero’s

ruggedness ensured that we muscledour way through, though. At onejunction, I was even yelled at for drivingan out of town car. We found our way tothe biggest garbage dump in the worldor the banks of the Yamuna – call it asyou wish – to get closer to the Taj Mahal.We wrapped up the photo shoot holdingour breaths and pinching our nosesbefore we tried to make our way out oftown. Actually, getting out wasn’t toohard – we fled from cops who wereabout to hail us down for using aroundabout the way it’s meant to beused. What’s that saying again? Ride it

The Bolero’s got great road presenceand a greater turbo growl...

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Delhi was chaos as usual, while Trusty was a delight as usual. The Bolero lookedright at home in front of the imposing architecture that the capital city boasts.Thankfully, the Mahindra is much more welcoming!


like you stole it. No?Dusk had settled and we were

moving at a quick pace to make it toDelhi. The Bolero’s high stance and greatall-round visibility makes highwaydriving a breeze. The headlights haveexcellent throw and you’re not leftstraining to see where you’re going, butadditional fog lights would definitelyhave been welcome. The reason I saythis is because I was paranoid of thismystical Delhi fog that people talk about.The fog remained all but mystical. Only ifsomeone could wave a wand and makeevery other road user disappear. Threehours later we were driving out of UttarPradesh and into Haryana and then intoDelhi. The roads widened and the traffic

dwindled almost like the Bolero shone its headlights and led us to the promiseland. Our photo shoot and roastedmutton leg was going to have to wait.500 people-infested kilometers in justone day is a little too much for anyone tohandle, right? We rolled up to the gatesof Rashtrapati Bhavan the next eveningto be greeted with gun-toting guardswho seemed very mistrusting towardsus. We explained to them our purposeand they let us get on with our business.They even offered help in any way theycould. Back at the Red Fort, there wassome yelling and shouting as to why aBolero was parked in the middle of theroad and the fact that it was impedingthe flow of tourists in the area prohibited

for tourists. That’s Delhi for you! Six states, six days and nine tankfuls

of fuel down, we’d driven the BoleroStorm through some of the harshestterrain, smoothest roads and narrowestalleys in the country. The Bolero’s tough,rugged nature was in the spotlightthroughout this drive, and we justrumbled over anything that came in ourway. We’d given rides to army men andvillagers, raided a military surplus storeand run away from the law. And notonce did the Bolero bend, break or backdown. No wonder, then, that the Bolerois the largest-selling SUV in the country– it’s reliable, capable and affordable.And just like the young Bolero, we toodrove the drive of our lives.

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mahindra bolero desert storm by bsm

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