It’s a miracle that India still holds elections. It’s a
miracle that India somehow has a government. It’s a miracle that Indians somehow
lead lives without always having the threat of a terror attack or a military
coup. It’s a miracle that Indian roads and infrastructure don’t always collapse
into themselves. India has a lot of madness.
But amidst all that, there is some method that keeps things
going. In Ranjangaon, the home of Fiat in India, I
could see what makes India tick. I saw it at a tea stall at 9 in the night over
a little glass of one cutting. A girl, in her teens or pre-teens, presumably
the tea-shop owner’s daughter, was sitting with folded legs on the shop floor
in front of a cooking stove. She was stirring the pot of hot tea with her right
hand while reading a school book placed on her lap, using a portable emergency
light illuminating the pages. She is the epitome of how things work in India.
We always make more out of less. And the less we have, the more determined we
are to make more of it.
The Abarth handles very well, although you’re better off
sticking to smooth roads
It’s why Fiat made the 500 in 1957. It was a car that had to
make the maximum out of the minimum. And it did. It was the Maruti
800, the Beetle, the Mini of Italy. And they resurrected
it in 2007. What? No. It’s not the car that will resurrect Fiat in India. If
anybody is telling you that, ignore them.
I have given up on Fiat’s numerous comebacks in India. I
have accepted the fact that it makes very good cars, but somehow can’t convince
enough people to buy more of them. If the resurrection has to happen, it may be
through the refreshed Punto, or the Avventura coming this year. Not the 500. Or
this 500 Abarth.
You're in no doubt
that you're inside an Abarth 500 rather than a
regular Fiat
The good thing with this Scorpion-laden car is that it’s
properly tiny. The only thing tinier than an Abarth
500 is an Indian driver’s ability to stay off the horn. It’s so tiny, you’d think you could lift it up to your apartment
with a friend holding the other end. It’s not as small as the original 500, but
with most modern versions of people’s cars bulking up, the 500 Abarth is likeably small.
What’s also small is the poke from the engine – 158 horses sounds like a lot, but it doesn’t have the verve and
spunk you’d get out of a 181bhp Mini Cooper S. And the cabin ergonomics is
traditionally and proudly Italian. Firstly, the seatbelt band is way behind the
front seat. Which involves a lot of turning and stretching if
you have to get to it. Which was worse for big
fat me. Then, the handbrake lever and the seat height adjust are within millimetres of each other to the driver’s left. The car’s
cute. What happens if you pull one when you want to pull the other will not be
cute. And that’s not it. You have a single-pod, circular instrument console.
Inside this, the speedo and tacho are ensconced
within each other. The speedo needle is in the outer circle, the tacho needle is inside. Try taking a quick glance at your
speed or engine rpm with two needles moving differently within the same circle.
Non-body colour dash isn’t an option. We reckon white is just about
right
Then, there is this annoying hump on the dashboard where the
speedo protrudes out. But that’s not as annoying as the hump from the turbo
boost binnacle. It gives you unwanted information like how much turbo boost is
in use, and recommends when to change gears. It’s as useful as a bunch of
marbles on the walkway of a senior citizen’s home. All it does is come in the
way of your frontal vision.
