When I bought our car, a Hyundai i10, in 2008, I received two keys and I was a happy driver for 16 years. If we mistakenly left the keys inside and got ourselves locked out of the car, the spare key saved the day.

Last year, our car met with an accident and was towed away to the police station. Fortunately no one was hurt. But it also taught me lessons of a different kind.

This was on the day of a relative's engagement. The car that hit mine was a Bolero pickup truck and didn't show any signs of impact other than a small dent on its left bumper. But the Hyundai i10's front right side fender, wheel and axle where totalled.

The police didn't agree to let us tow the car to our place and wanted both parties to come to the station with the vehicle. I should have gone to the station along with car and dealt with the matter the same day, but succumbed to the pressure to attend the function. The situation was further muddied by assurances from the Panchayat president of the nearby village that I can deal with it tomorrow and didn't have to worry. He was also a relative.

I soon realized that this was the one of the stupidest thing to do. Showing the least care and trusting your property to the police.

With the help of a lawyer, it took a few days for the police to agree to return the confiscated property. When the lawyer and I went to the police station they asked for a letter with the details of the incident along with the statement that the police have duly returned the confiscated vehicle, and I agreed to report back with the car if there was any further inquiry or action needed.

All these were the regular procedure and the lawyer handling it made me less stressed. But unfortunately, after giving the letter, they searched for the key, and it was nowhere to be found. We rummaged through two boxes full of keys from vehicles with a similar plight. The police said that the person who was on duty might have misplaced it, and he would only come back the next day. I would have to use the duplicate key until then.

The duplicate key was in Chennai and the car was in the Mailam police station. We had already given the letter to the police. Refusing to pick up the car now and asking for the letter to be returned would sour the matters, and cause more work for me. The lawyer too was in no mood to confront the police. Now that I remember the small talk he had with the constables on first name basis, I realized he would be even less interested than me in creating a ruckus.

We weighed our options for opening the door. The lawyer called one of his juniors, who conveniently also ran an automotive scrapyard. After a bit of small talk with him, I made him realize that I was in no mood to scrap the car. He asked for a metal scale from the police station, tore of the weather stripping, inserted it between the door and the window glass and started playing around with it trying to open the lock.

Meanwhile, the guy who we had called to tow the car to a local garage, suggested that he could either call up someone to pick the lock or just break the quarter pane glass and open the car. As I was slowly weighing my options, the lawyer made a more quick decision and asked the driver to call up the lock pickers.

Three guys arrived at the scene on a Honda Activa and started randomly disconnecting wires on the front and around the headlights. Another guy started playing around with the scale inserted on the window, replacing the junior advocate.

I felt like my car was being violated by five men and that blew my fuse off.

"Stop!" I shouted. "Why are you disconnecting the wires, without asking me? Don't you realize that there is no electronic theft device installed?"

I was angry at the thought that they might break other things in an attempt to open the lock. I would be the one who would have to live with the consequences. There was no way these people had my interests as their priority. They would charge a hefty amount, trying to capitalize on the situation after doing the least to reduce my loss. It wasn't without reason that three people had come to pick a single lock which required huge skill, patience and focus.

"I know you are a bunch of amateurs. Get lost", I shouted again.

Since they had just begun to work, it was easier for me to kick them out with a bit more of posturing. They left without extracting any money from me.

I asked the towing service driver to break the quarter pane. I had already checked the price, and it was just around Rs. 600, including shipping.

The driver took a lever from his boot, gave quick wack on the glass with it, and soon we were on our way to the garage, with the car in tow.

Fast-forward a few years, and I was once again in the same situation, this time purely due to my carelessness.

One day I was working on the front right door after removing the door trim. I was trying to replace the side view mirror which was knocked off its fixture. I couldn't remember how it happened. My best guess was the pesky neighbourhood kids, who I last saw playing ice boy, running up and down the stairs beside which the car was parked.

With a bit of guidance from a few YouTube videos, I had successfully completed the task. I was proud and hurried take a break.

Just a few minutes later, I realized that I had forgotten to check the lock position before slamming the door shut. The key was still in the ignition switch.

What a stupid mistake I had done. There are the occasions when you really wish you had a time machine so that you can go back and kick your past self on their butt right when they are about to do that life changing stupid act.

I stood there frozen and no one turned up with a time machine.

I swallowed my pride and went through my options. I searched boodmo and the price was around Rs. 450. There was another item already in the cart and showed a shipping charge of Rs. 150. I concluded that the price was around the same that I had paid a year before and decided to break in.

I tested a few items like box spanner and screwdriver, hitting the quarter pane with them. The glass was too strong, and all of them bounced back with just a few scratches left on the glass. I realized I needed something more hefty and a sharp point. I ran into the house, got hold of a bill hook and tapped the pointed end on the glass. The pane shattered into a thousand little diamonds held together by cheap cellophane.

While carefully removing the broken bits of glass from the seat and floor, I silently vowed, to get the spare key made first before replacing the broken glass.

I did some quick research on the Internet and there were machines made by the ever innovative tool vendors from Coimbatore which duplicated a key onto a blank by using a cutting disk that moved by tracing the original key. There were also blank keys being sold for the i10 online that cost Rs. 300.

I wished I could buy the cutting machine and make my own duplicate key, but at my scale even a file set wouldn't be worth the returns. Being a locksmith required years of practice. You could see them on the roadsides setting shop with just a small vice, hacksaw and a file set. They quickly made you a spare from the hundreds of blanks on display. The quality of the fitting jobs I had done in the mechanical workshop at college were still fresh in my mind.

I went to the round building shops, a place filled with all manners of low investment trades. I located a locksmith's shop, but they all seemed to have been put out of work by the machine. They still had their shops, but used them as price gouging fronts. They would tell that it would take two days for the key to be made and take the key to another vendor who owned the duplicating machine. It had become a low turnover, high margins business.

I enquired with the person sitting lazily on a stool.

"Ok, here talk to the owner", he said. I took the phone and told my situation and asked how much a duplicate key costs.

"I can quote only after seeing the car, Sir", the locksmith replied.

I told him the make, model and year and also said there were no electronic security system.

"It would cost Rs. 1800", he replied.

"What? Why do you need so much for a simple key?" I asked expressing my shock.

"Sir, there is a chip inside the key", he replied.

"Be serious, when the Rs. 2000 note was released, people said the same thing", I retorted.

He was not pleased with my sense of humour.

"OK, I will call you once I get hold of the key. What is your name?" I asked.

"Daniel", he replied.

As I walked into the Tirumangalam Metro station I took a photo of the key and sent it to Daniel through WhatsApp. I boarded the next train to central on my way to GP Road.

GP Road is right behind the famous LIC building and was the mecca of original auto parts in Chennai. I was looking at all the sign boards placed in the shops, as I walked past, for any indication of key duplication services. Finally, I spotted a photo of a car key on a shop called Nachiappa Stickers.

The name sounded familiar and looked like a reputed shop. I went inside and showed the key to the attendant.

"There might be a chip embedded in the plastic moulding Sir. In that case, the duplicate can be used only to open the door and will not start the engine. If you need to also start the car, you need to contact the dealer.", he said.

"That is OK, how much does the duplicate cost?" I asked.

"Rs. 150", he replied.

This sounded a better deal. "Go ahead and make me one", I said handing over the key.

In just under a minute, he came back with a new key with neatly cut grooves matching the original.

"If it does not open, should I do any sanding or filing to fit?" I asked.

"No Sir, it will fit perfectly", he replied.

I then stopped at Jehangir where I had bought the quarter pane glass earlier.

"It would cost Rs. 900", the attendant replied.

This was way more than what I had budgeted after checking the price on boodmo.

"Is there any other cheaper option?" I enquired.

"Try Pudupet", he replied.

Putudpet is the other automotive mecca, situated on the opposite side of the Cooum river, from GP Road. It is famous for refurbished parts from old and more famously stolen vehicles. I had driven through the place a few times but never had a good look at the shops. I decided to pay my visits to this place too.

As I walked across the bridge, I saw the usual sewage flowing in the Cooum river and the felt the unbearable stench.

Pudupet had a bit of an old world charm to it. After walking past some shops there was this large shady tree. The kind under which a village headman would sit to decide local disputes. A shed with its doors locked stood under it now. The name board said, "Police at door step".

I couldn't see any shops specializing in glass. It was mostly reworked engines, exhausts, suspensions and lots of cheap accessories. I didn't want to waste time enquiring anywhere as I had already made up my mind that it would be too much of a gamble buying from here.

I walked a bit more and ended up at the Egmore railway station and boarded the metro back to Tirumangalam.

As I got out of the metro, I received a voice message with a quote from Daniel. "There is no chip in this key Sir. It will cost Rs. 550", Daniel said. I posted a 'Thank You' emoji, feeling happy on the savings I made.

Back home I logged into boodmo to order the glass, but it showed a shipping cost of Rs. 500 which brought the cost to Rs. 950. I cursed myself for assuming the shipping cost and the government for the inflation and started looking for any vendor closer to home.

Calcutta Glass in Arumbakkam seemed to be the nearest store. I called the shop, and they quoted Rs. 950. This was still a better option than boodmo as I didn't have to wait for 10 days, or so I thought. But the guy at the shop sold a piece that had a number of scratches. I realize now that I should have followed him when he took piece inside for packing.

Now I am all set to attempt replacing the glass, without fear of locking myself out. I was also thankful that I did not have an engine immobilizer that requires the chip in the key to be reprogrammed, nor a car costly enough to require an engine immobilizer, all way more pain than necessary.