Imagine if a stealth bomber, a refrigerator, and a door from a bank vault had a three-way collaboration in Elon Musk’s dream journal—that’s more or less the birth story of the Tesla Cybertruck. Launched in 2024 (and immediately looking like it came straight from 2084), this isn’t so much a truck as it is a mobile sci-fi prop on four ridiculously oversized Goodyears. And what you’re looking at is the first-generation, top-of-the-line, “Cyberbeast Foundation Series” variant, which sounds less like a pickup truck and more like a rogue unit from a dystopian video game.

In the U.S., it starts at an eye-watering ₹59.65 lakh ex-showroom, and tops out at around ₹88.20 lakh. Of course, this one’s a private import by Gopin Developers in Surat—so if you want it in India, start liquidating property. You’ll need close to ₹1.60 crore and perhaps a garage with reinforced walls and a charging port powered by Thor.

Design-wise, the Cybertruck is unapologetically absurd—in the best possible way. Angular to the point of aggression and made of cold, unpainted, 300-series stainless steel, it’s dent-resistant, scratch-resistant, and presumably, friend-resistant too. The whole body is more “stunt double for a spaceship” than “casual Sunday pickup.” Even the glass is shatter-resistant “armor glass,” which Elon famously demonstrated by accidentally breaking on stage, twice.

Designed by Franz von Holzhausen—yes, the same man responsible for the Model S, X, 3, Y, and even the Pontiac Solstice—this wild creation also pays visual homage to Blade Runner, James Bond’s Wet Nellie, and possibly your nephew’s geometry project gone rogue. It’s earned the nickname “Origami on Wheels,” and frankly, that’s charitable.
With a length of 5.7 meters and width of 2.4 meters, the Cybertruck is about as subtle as a nightclub bouncer in chainmail. The suspension is adjustable up to 30 cm, because apparently being normal height is for mortals. And yes, it floats—for a short while, at least, which means it’s technically more amphibious than your last vacation.
Under the hood—or rather, wherever its digital soul resides—you’ll find some frightening numbers. This Cyberbeast trim makes 845 horsepower and a neck-snapping 1396 Nm of torque. It can do 0-100 kmph in 2.7 seconds—yes, in a truck heavier than most adult rhinoceroses (3113 kg kerb weight). It’s faster than a Porsche 911, and in Tesla’s own marketing video, it tows a 911 while outrunning another one. That’s either genius marketing or a mid-life crisis in CGI form.
Power comes from a 123 kWh liquid-cooled lithium-ion battery that gives you up to 515 km range—though more if you’re cruising gently and less if you’re busy trying to tow an aircraft carrier uphill. Charging options range from leisurely (11 kW AC, full in 10 hours 45 minutes) to warp-speed (325 kW Supercharger, 60% in 15 minutes—roughly the time it takes to lose an argument on X, formerly known as Twitter).
It’s got All-Wheel Drive with electronic wizardry like torque vectoring, virtual locking diffs, and enough computing power to launch a satellite (which, knowing Musk, it might). There’s also a 48-volt electrical system, steer-by-wire controls, and rear-wheel steering for tighter turns—because obviously, you might want to parallel park this intergalactic wedge in Delhi’s Karol Bagh someday.
Inside, it’s a minimalist tech-lover’s paradise. An 18.5-inch central touchscreen handles everything from Netflix to arcade games, climate control to karaoke. Rear passengers get their own 9.4-inch screen—perfect for adjusting AC or playing Cuphead while towing a mountain. You get heated and ventilated seats, a wireless charger, 15-speaker sound system with active noise cancellation, and UV-filtering glass roof that doubles as your personal solarium. Even the glovebox has a USB port—because why not.
Boot space? Oh, just 1897 litres in the back and another 200 litres in the front. That’s over 2,000 litres total and enough to carry a motorcycle, a kayak, or an existential crisis. Payload is 417 kg, and the Cybertruck can tow nearly 5000 kg—perfect if you’re planning to relocate your house.
And of course, there’s the gear. Oh, the gear! You can outfit it with everything from cargo dividers to cyber tents, off-road light bars to HEPA filters, pet liners to bumper protectors. There’s even a “broken glass” decal—a cheeky nod to Tesla’s unforgettable demo fail. Accessories are so abundant, you could run an online store just off your truck’s inventory.
Safety? 6 airbags, 8 cameras, advanced driver aids, auto emergency braking, lane departure, ADAS with optional Full Self-Driving (₹6.81 lakh extra) and so many acronyms that you’ll need a glossary. Even Elon’s son, Saxon, partially inspired this truck with a casual, “Why doesn’t the future look like the future?”
But alas, the Cybertruck has its share of hiccups. Build quality? Spotty. Panel gaps? Measurable in millimeters and mood swings. Reliability? Let’s just say Tesla has already issued 8 recalls since launch. Critics call it the decade’s biggest flop. Owners call it an experience. And regulators in Europe call it… unsafe. Still, Tesla maintains it’s safe because it absorbs crash energy. Which sounds a bit like saying a concrete wall absorbs punches.
Still, if you want a truck that looks like the future, drives like a spaceship, and functions somewhere between a lifestyle flex and a metallic meme—this is it. The Cybertruck isn’t for the faint-hearted. It’s for the eccentric, the curious, and the absurdly wealthy.
It’s not just a truck. It’s a lifestyle statement. A bold, stainless steel, polygonal fist swung squarely at convention.
And somehow, it’s exactly what we needed. Or didn’t. Who even knows anymore?