Marque is the house's word for the cars a guest names rather than chooses by class: a Mercedes for a board, a Range Rover for a wedding gate, a Vellfire for a family week. The house does not own them and does not pretend to. It keeps a small number of partners whose cars it has sat in, whose papers it has seen, and whose chauffeurs it has met — and it sends a sarathi of its own to ride with you.
The chairman's car. A rear cabin built for being driven in: reclining seats, a hush that holds at Expressway speed, the car a hotel sends for a head of state.
The S-Class page →
The working marque. Quieter and lower than any SUV, quick through the city, the car for an executive who wants to arrive composed and read on the way.
The E-Class page →
The long car with the long rear seat. For a guest who likes the drive itself to feel engineered, and a cabin that is a lounge at night.
The 7 Series page →
The executive saloon the world's chauffeur houses keep: long in the rear, quick through the city, the car for a visiting director's day.
The 5 Series page →
The long Audi: a rear cabin with a lounge's legroom, for a guest who was expected in a Mercedes and would rather this.
The A8 L page →
The quiet one of the executive saloons: a cabin like a good study, noticed by the people who notice and by no one else.
The A6 page →
Height, presence, and a cabin that shuts the city out. The car for a wedding gate, a monsoon road, or a guest who should be seen arriving.
The Range Rover page →
Three rows and the S-Class rear seat raised four hundred millimetres: the Mercedes for a family week and the monsoon road.
The GLS page →
The largest BMW, finished like the 7 Series and driven a little better than the chauffeur meant to: for a family week and a long road.
The X7 page →
The quiet seven-seater the city's families chose a decade ago and still do, with the drive the monsoon was made for.
The Q7 page →
Boxy, upright, unmistakable: the car a groom wants at a gate and a family wants for a farmhouse road in the rains.
The Defender page →
The car that leads the convoys of this country and the Gulf: tall, unbreakable, quieter inside than its reputation.
The Land Cruiser page →
The quiet room on wheels: sliding doors, two captain seats that recline flat, space for a family and its cases. The car Mumbai's own families choose for a wedding week.
The Vellfire page →
The Vellfire taken as far as it goes: four seats behind a partition, a screen, a cabin quieter than a hotel room.
The Lexus LM page →
Sliding doors, four captain seats across a table, room to almost stand: the Mercedes Europe's hotels send for a family.
The V-Class page →
Before a Marque car is named the house sees its registration, its permit, its commercial insurance and its fitness certificate, and meets the chauffeur who comes with it. Only a car on commercial plates carries a guest of the house. The sarathi rides with you; the partner's chauffeur drives.
Also by name. A Mercedes C-Class or GLE, a BMW 3 Series Gran Limousine or X5, an Audi A4, a Jaguar XF, a Volvo S90 or XC90, a Porsche Cayenne, a Range Rover Sport or Velar, a Lexus ES or LX, a Toyota Alphard: any car of this standard that a guest names is found the same way — papers seen, chauffeur met, the figure written once. For an electric car or a van for a party, the house has a page each.
A Marque figure is written for each journey — the car, the sarathi, fuel, tolls, parking and GST in one line — usually within the hour between 7 AM and 11 PM. The house names one car and holds it once the written figure is settled. Nothing is added on the day.
Some cars are not kept on call by anyone honest. For an occasion that wants one, the house finds it: thirty days’ notice, the papers seen, the exact car confirmed to you in photographs, a deposit that holds it and a figure written once. Your sarathi rides with it, as with every car of the house.
The one arrival in a life that is meant to be remembered: a bride through a gate, a father at a daughter’s wedding, a guest of honour.
The Phantom page →
The quieter Rolls-Royce, for a dinner that matters, a reception, an anniversary — for the guest who wants the car for the evening rather than the photographs.
The Ghost page →
Height and a Rolls-Royce: a venue up a ghat, a monsoon evening, a farmhouse past Karjat, with the Spirit of Ecstasy on the bonnet.
The Cullinan page →
The four-door Bentley, for an evening, a reception, a groom’s car that answers the bride’s.
The Flying Spur page →
A Bentley with height, for a wedding gate at dusk, a monsoon road, a family that should arrive together and be seen to.
The Bentayga page →
The S-Class taken as far as it goes: a guest of state, a chairman who works and then sleeps, a bride who would rather a Mercedes.
The Maybach page →
The one Lamborghini a guest can be driven in with dignity: a groom’s arrival, a birthday that should be loud about one thing only.
The Urus page →
The four-door Ferrari, rear doors that open backwards, arranged rarely, for a guest who asked for a Ferrari and meant it.
The Purosangue page →
Cars it cannot stand behind that week. A two-seat supercar by the day, to be driven by the guest. A model whose papers nobody has seen. If you want a car that is on neither list, tell the house what you have in mind: it will say yes when it can, and say so plainly, early, when it cannot.
Some partner cars carry their own RTO-issued numbers — 0001, 9999, 0786. If that matters for a wedding or an arrival, say so when you reserve; where such a car is free, the house sends it at no extra charge. The house never fits a styled plate, a borrowed plate or a board.
Reserve a Marque carChoose Marque and name the car. The figure is written for the journey.