In 1948, singer Hemanta Mukhopadhyay bought a blue Plymouth Special Deluxe that would come to symbolise not just his ascent in Indian music, but his refined taste and love for elegant engineering. The American four-door, known for its polished curves and dignified design, was a head-turner, often spotted gliding through Kolkata’s streets with Mukhopadhyay at the wheel.
As Mukhopadhyay’s fame rose, the Plymouth became an extension of his artistic persona. Kolkata residents often glimpsed the singer driving with his wife Bela and their sons Ritesh and Ranu, sometimes tapping the car’s side with his right hand as he steered with the left. “That car wasn’t just metal and wheels,” Mukhopadhyay once said, adding, “it was a part of our daily rhythm.”
From the Mukhopadhyays to the Lahiris
But by the early 1970s, rising fuel costs and the car’s unwieldy size made it impractical. And so, the Plymouth changed hands — ushering in a new chapter of stories, love, and devotion under the Lahiri family of Rajpur in South 24 Parganas.
Swapan Kumar Lahiri was a young man when his father first acquired the car from Mukhopadhyay. The purchase itself was a blend of admiration and fascination. “My father loved American cars — we had an Oldsmobile and a Hudson before. When he heard Hemanta da was selling his Plymouth, he couldn’t resist,” Lahiri recalls.
A love story in the rearview mirror
It was that very car — now nicknamed Nilu — that became a silent accomplice in Swapan Kumar Lahiri’s own love story. One day, while driving with his parents, he spotted Ketaki Maitra, the woman his family had received a marriage proposal from, standing at a bus stop. “She had often travelled in that same car with Hemanta-da before,” Lahiri smiles. “So when she saw Nilu approaching, she thought it was him. But it was me. I honked thrice and simply told her — ‘get in.’”
Ketaki, startled but curious, entered the car, only to face a volley of questions from Lahiri’s parents. “I tried to answer some and avoided others,” she recalled. “And just when I thought of escaping, his father asked — are you Hrishikesh Maitra’s daughter?”
Moments later, Lahiri nearly stalled the car. His father turned and asked if he was nervous or needed help driving. “No, no, I’m fine,” he remembers replying. When she finally got off, his father turned to him and said, “Shall I fix your marriage with her then?” Lahiri beamed and nodded yes.
Three decades in silence
Years passed, and Lahiri moved abroad. The Plymouth — too precious to part with — was stored away on a jack for over 30 years. Yet, even during those years of dormancy, he ensured it never went dry. “I used to fill the engine with oil, add kerosene, WD-40 — flood it right up to the plug level,” he explained. “I wanted the engine to stay alive.”
Bringing Nilu back to life
When he returned in 2015, Lahiri began the restoration, working alongside a mechanic who had once serviced Hemanta’s own vehicles. The engine, unopened and original, roared back to life in 2017. Lahiri brought an engineer’s mind and a purist’s soul to the process — crafting circuits that preserved the 6V originality while discreetly adding a 12V starter assist. He reproduced the seat fabric patterns, installed custom-made LED fittings for long-gone bulbs, and even revived a vintage wiper system powered by vacuum and leather paddles using hand-stitched replacements.
Today, Nilu stands not just as a restored car, but as a rolling love letter to both its legendary first owner and its fiercely devoted second family.
Star of the show
At vintage rallies and classic car shows across Bengal, the blue Plymouth is now a familiar, cherished sight. At the 2025 EIMG (Eastern India Motoring Group) Concours d’Elegance, Nilu was awarded “Best of Show” — a recognition that marked the culmination of a journey spanning nearly 75 years.
Swapan Kumar Lahiri, a senior committee member of EIMG, has become a beacon in Kolkata’s restoration circle — his care, passion and technical ingenuity inspiring a new generation of collectors.
“You can own a car, or you can become its custodian,” Lahiri says. “I chose the latter.” To this day, he starts the engine every two months, drives it 20 kilometres, and stores it under a thin film of Vaseline and oil to protect the chrome. And when his sister, nephew and niece visit from abroad, one day is always reserved for Nilu. “It’s not just a car to them,” he says. “It’s family.”
Legacy in motion
From serenading Kolkata’s boulevards in Hemanta’s time to whispering stories of love and legacy under Lahiri’s care, Nilu remains a moving memory — painted in a perfect shade of blue and kept alive by hands that never let it sleep.
