This wasn’t pretty much the first thing I wanted to post about since I came back but yup … my younger brother finally did it … he drove my car to its final destination … and left it there, lying dead, waiting to be sold for good.

For whoever of you that may be concerned, he got out without a scratch, but not after I got my hands on him. I just hope I didn’t scare the neighbors too much :)

Most of my friends already know about this, my younger brother (who still didn’t acquire his driving license) has been driving for almost a year. My advices and warnings to my parents about that went totally useless. All I can say is that sometimes my parents weren’t strict enough to realize evident cruel facts and take the necessary actions.

Two years ago, he totaled a car we had back then. He was too young and was going to be sentenced to jail haven’t I posed as driver infront of my parents and the police. My driving license was taken by the police and I went into so much trouble trying to have it back that I stopped trying, and I didn’t get it back till the day. Add to that I was blamed by my parents for my reckless driving!

So anyway, we bought our 318i a couple of years ago. My parents registered it under my name. It was truly a fine car … a catch; solid body, magnificent paint, and in a great shape for a BMW that spent an age with guy drivers. My brother was implicitly denied to ride. One day I went to Karak for a week or so, and came back to find him out with the car somewhere. Apparently, my parents, wise enough, decided he shall be allowed to drive now =)

The reckless driving and the skidding started soon after. One day, later on, he scratched its flawless pearly paint. Another day he got a bumper hit. Not so-long after he smashed it, got a tire exploded, hit the axis, bumped it over the roads … once, twice, and every now and then on a one year run. The maintenance rounds couldn’t outperform my younger brother’s driving.

My parents, seemingly seeing these as a series of unfortunate events, didn’t respond to the warnings, and willingly gave him full freedom as to whatever concerns the car.

I, having no time to pay attention to what goes on and off with the car, couldn’t but watch my car die bit by bit … like a leaf in fall … drops off, dries and discolors slowly as life is being sucked away from its veins.

Today my car made it to its terminal stop. Luckily no one got harmed. My father convinced me to let go of the car as I, in the first place, will leave Jordan after I graduate and will eventually be losing it then.

The car was never my problem … something that my parents still fail to understand :)

I’ve always imagined cars in the streets as living entities, each with its own attributes, skills, and mood! A good car … a nice car … an angry car … a powerful car … For me, my BMW was my colour, had my skills, and was perfectly my mood. The way I thought of it, the driver was the part that animated the car, but was also the part the held its character, skills, and gave it its human impressions, which is more important than the colour, the shape, the engine, or any of the physical details of the car.

Putting it my way, no matter what happens to the car, as long as the driver is alive, the same car will always be reborn … in a different form maybe :)