NEVER TOO LATE TO START AGAIN!

I learned to drive when I was in my first year of college, But life had other plans. There was no car at home, so my freshly minted driving skills were carefully folded away and tucked into a corner of my life, like a certificate no one ever asked to see. Marriage and motherhood shifted my world to routines, bus rides, and family schedules. My kids Mahima and Medhansh filled my days; driving faded away into the background. 

My husband is an ace driver, he drove on the roads with an ease that made the most chaotic moments of Indian traffic look like a calmly synchronized dance. So I instead slipped into the familiar comfort of the passenger seat. But life, as it often does, turned a corner I did not see coming. That was when my husband looked at me and said, with a strong sense of disarming simplicity, “Why don’t you start driving again?”

At first, I laughed. Me? Drive through this mad traffic in that sedan? But he was serious. So we began a new ritual. Early in the mornings, when the roads were only half awake, he sat beside me in the passenger seat while I took the wheel. I fumbled, yet I started again. He guided me through that special brand of Indian chaos that descends the moment the clock strikes office hour. Those practice sessions were humbling, but they were also strangely liberating. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t just being driven; I was learning how to move under my own power.

Then came the day I decided to go to the beauty parlor on my own, with the Honda City. It sounds trivial on paper, but that short drive felt like a personal Mount Everest. I woke up with my mind made up: I would not let honking horns or flashing headlights or impatient bikers scare me off the road. My heart thudded a little faster as I got into the driver’s seat alone. I said a small prayer to myself as the city was fully awake now—autos darting in and out of every small gap, buses groaning to a stop, scooters squeezing into impossible spaces. I gripped the wheel and whispered to myself, “Just go.”

Finally, I pulled up to the beauty parlor. I had done it on my own! Finally! Shaky but whole—until the local mechanic acquaintance waved me over. "Madam, your trunk!" There it was: wide open the entire drive, flapping like a flag announcing "New driver—handle with care!", I had driven all the way, while being completely oblivious to the fact that my trunk was open. I was mortified at first then laughter bubbled up uncontrollably. Embarrassing? Absolutely. But I'd conquered it solo, trunk and all—a ridiculous badge of my breakthrough.

Days later, that confidence carried me to my first office commute. No hand-holding, just me navigating horns and flyovers to Madhavaram parking. In the rearview mirror, I saw it: a part of me, parked for years, finally rolling forward. That trunk-open drive unlocked it all—a quiet power I reclaimed. Listen, it’s never too late to start something you put aside, no matter what age, because I accomplished this at 43, all that is stopping you is the voice in your head that says you cannot, do not listen to it, silence it and start immediately. What else is holding you back?

WRITTEN BY, R MAHIMA RAM

DAUGHTER OF R SHEEBA SREENIVASAN