Samsuddin Midya parked a gleaming BMW M4 Competition in Galsi, Purba Bardhaman, on a whim that cost him Rs 2.30 crore. The car wasn’t for his commute; it was a trophy for his son, Mohammed Talha, who just cleared his Class 9 half-yearly exams with impressive marks. The gesture has turned the quiet Paraj area into a local spectacle, with neighbors staring at the sports car that most of them will never afford.
Midya, a local businessman known for his fondness for high-end vehicles, said he finally caved to his son’s persistent requests. Talha had been asking for the M4 Competition for a long time, but the grades were the trigger. "I was delighted with his performance," Midya told reporters. He flew to Mumbai to personally select and purchase the car, ensuring it met his son’s exact specifications.
The teenager, however, faces a minor logistical hurdle: he is 14 and does not hold a driving licence. For now, the Rs 2.3 crore asset sits in the driveway, waiting for Talha to legally man the wheel. He plans to use the car for weekly rides, sitting in the passenger seat beside his father while he focuses on his studies. It’s a strange paradox of wealth in rural Bengal—success measured in exam percentages, rewarded with a machine that costs more than most households earn in a decade.
Midya’s garage already houses a Range Rover, Volvo, Mahindra Thar, and Hyundai Alcazar. He has a specific obsession with registration numbers ending in '555', a nod to Shah Rukh Khan’s famous plates. Residents of Galsi are divided; some admire the father’s generosity, while others question the necessity of such an extravagant reward for a school exam. Midya, who also quietly funds local welfare initiatives, remains unbothered by the chatter. The car is in the driveway. The grades are in. The story, for now, is over—until Talha turns 18.