My car insurance renewal nightmare

I had barely dozed off when my phone buzzed. With a scowl, I picked it up.

“I am Sweety, calling from Noida,” said a soft voice, its tone suggestive.

If I had more imagination, I could have believed the voice to be an erotic whisper. Indeed, there was a time when such a husky murmur would have made my heart turn a couple of somersaults. Now it merely filled me with sudden dread that the missus would overhear the femme fatale and demand to know who she was.

“Yes?” I said cautiously, still half-asleep.

“Sir,” she murmured, “You see as I’m sure, hence, about to expire!”

I sat up bolt upright! Why should some sultry siren telephone me to announce her own impending demise?

“Huh? What? What?” was all that I could manage.

“Sir, your Ciaz insurance is about to expire.”

Ah! The insurance cover on my car was indeed about to end, but only after two months. I was in no hurry to renew it.

Yet that siesta-disrupting call kicked-off a phase of prolonged misery. The fault, of course, was entirely mine. Instead of meekly renewing my car’s policy with ABC Insurance Company—the path of least resistance —I decided to be clever. Year after year I had paid ABC hefty insurance premiums without ever troubling them with a claim. Surely, I reasoned, a careful reading of the 14-page policy document might reveal some clause that would let me recoup part of my money. What I discovered instead was a masterpiece of legal exclusion tucked away in the fine print: “No claim shall be admissible for damage to plastic, rubber or glass parts.”

Only days earlier I had watched a roadside mechanic perform miracles on a rather fancy (but dented) car. He poured boiling water over the bonnet, applied a suction plunger, and the dent vanished!

“Sir ji,” he explained cheerfully, “these cars are mostly plastic. Just pour hot water and the dent is gone!”

If plastic, rubber and glass were off-limits, insurance cover extended only to the chassis and engine block. I had a sudden, vivid vision of myself after a spectacular accident: ABC Insurance punctiliously settling the claim and then giving a bare chassis fitted with four hubcaps as replacement for my totalled car!

This thought made me resolve to never again patronise ABC Insurance.

Even as I was mulling the issue, some guy named Morth began bombarding me with unsolicited messages. He warned me to renew before the due date or face the wrath of the law. How he knew the precise expiry date of my policy remained a mystery until Gopu enlightened me.

“My dear friend,” he said, “MoRTH is the Minister of Road Transport and Highways.”

“Oh,” I exclaimed. “How flattering! Gadkari ji himself is taking an interest in my insurance affairs!”

Unfortunately, MoRTH was not the only vigilant one. An infinite number of insurance companies mysteriously knew my phone number, as also details of my insurance, and were deeply concerned that I would disregard the perils of gallivanting around in an uninsured car.

I started getting calls and messages at every hour of the day and night: “Your motor insurance is expiring soon. Severe penalties await those who drive uninsured cars.” Some were merely pushy. Others were downright insulting. A few threatened me with a fine of Rs2,000 if I did not immediately shell out the demanded ransom.

One particularly enterprising firm warned that “Premium may increase anytime,” so I should buy a new policy immediately. Another informed that this was “the last call”. I wondered whether they imagined themselves as the Archangel Gabriel announcing the end of time, or Ronnie, the club bartender, calling last orders.

Finally, after comparing the offerings of BCD, EFG, HIJ and other alphabetical hopefuls, I purchased a fresh policy from XYZ a full two weeks before the old one expired. Unfortunately, due to some disturbance in the space-time continuum, the multitudinous insurance companies remained in the dark that I had bought a new policy. So their agents continued to call, only to seem heartbroken—or sometimes insulted—when informed that I had already defected. One accused me of betrayal. Another demanded an explanation, as though I had reneged on a proposal to marry her. A third cursed me for abandoning ABC and cautioned me against supping with the devil.

The warnings that had begun a full month in advance rose to a crescendo as the last date approached. I started getting daily warnings: “Your policy will expire in 10 days.” Then nine. Then eight. Till, “Your coverage will end tomorrow.” On the actual day of expiry there was silence. The day after, however, I received a gratuitous update, “Your insurance coverage expired 01 days ago.”

I would have been amused, except for one sad fact. I have examined the fine print of the XYZ 20-page policy with the same forensic attention that I had devoted to ABC. It contains, almost word for word, the clause about nixing claims for glass, plastic and rubber parts!

Some battles, it appears, cannot be won.

Now I live in dread that one of these days, Sweety, with her husky voice, will once again interrupt my siesta and start a fresh countdown, “Sir, your Ciaz car insurance will expire in 350 days.”

K.C. Verma is former chief of R&AW. kcverma345@gmail.com