Sumit's Inkwell

After 10 years and 198,000 miles, I handed over the keys to my 2015 Dodge Charger.

To most people, it’s just a car. A hunk of metal, glass, and flammable fluids. And they’re right. But like anything in this world, it’s the meaning behind it. The stories.

I bought it in March 2015, at the worst financial point in my life. I had just gotten into a horrible accident with my previous Charger, and I was dead set in getting the same exact car.

But due to some character building experiences my bank account was negative before noon on payday. Overdraft fees stacked so high the bank started mailing me pamphlets on financial literacy. My credit score started with a 3. Young Sumit had no business buying a car, but somehow, after hearing “no” about a hundred times, I drove away with a brand new Charger and a subprime interest rate.

The car was a financial burden at first, but as life got easier, and the miles kept piling on. Weddings. Birthdays. Funerals. Vacations. I met a woman and brought her home as my wife in that car.

Both my children were brought home in that car.

I’ve said goodbye and hello to so many people inside it. Places and faces are gone now, but the miles rolled on just like life does.

Now I’ve moved on to something bigger, something that fits the family better. And yes, new memories are already being made. But man, I’m going to miss the hell out of that Charger.

Now the car itself has become a memory. Something I’ll show my kids in old photos, something I’ll talk about when I’m older. It was still running when I sold it. Still solid.

198,000 miles later, the Charger is gone. But every mile is still mine.