How Buying a Car is Different in India

If buying our new Mahindra Xylo isn't exciting enough, there is a whole series of 'Pujas' or blessings that go along with the experience, not to mention a dance of negotiation which reminds you that rupees are the all powerful god in this city. Two weekends ago when we visited the Mahindra showroom in a faraway part of Mumbai called Thane (another elephant sighting on the way), we chose our new Xylo E6 and said we want to pay cash. This deal was sealed with a tika for each of us - a line of red dust for Kevin and a dot of red and saffron dust for me (married woman) and a red dot for Lu.

It is at this point the negotations started. We had our Rs. 8 lakh to hand over to them, but the bartering comes with when we will actually get the car. Sachin, the Mahindra representative had been making promises about when we would have the car in our hands; "Tomorrow sir, tomorrow" to no avail. Apparently with red tape-read corruption of the system, it can take months to receive a new car. Sachin was just telling us what we wanted to hear with the hopes of us handing over the payment for the car and then the ball was in his court. Kevin met with the car people and the general operations manager from our school, Alok (who was giving us the money) for some India style business dealing. Alok told Sachin that the deal was off unless the car was delivered by 6:30pm on Thursday which was 2 days away. Sachin pleaded that this was impossible, but Alok said make it happen. Mahindra is eager to break into the American market and Alok reminded Sachin that you have two Americans here that want to buy your car so you better make them happy. Well, luckily for Sachin, the only way things happen here is by the contact you have-read pay offs and with an inexhaustible supply of labor. I don't know if he had a guy sleeping all night at the licensing office, but at 6:30 Thursday, on the nose, our black and silver 2009 Mahindra Xylo E6 arrived at our building.

Sachin entered with gifts; flowers for me, chocolates for Lu and a holy idol for Kevin-in our case a rosary, and lots of photos, smiles and handshaking. The next day, we got word through Raju (our driver) that Sachin had taken ill. I guess the stress had gotten to him. This is when we realized that we didn't in fact have license plates for the car, but only a piece of yellow tape with some numbers written on them; Sachin is indisposed.

Well, at least Raju was undeterred. He spent the next day fussing over the new car with garlands of marigolds, blessing and peda sweets (a type of milk fudge that tastes similar to marzipan) for everyone to help welcome the car and ensure he doesn't wreak it. He told us, "people flocked around the car like she is a princess!" I think he's pretty happy. So are we.