Monday, June 11, 2012

Ride to Portuguese Colony

    The wait was finally over..... After more than 3 months I got back on my beloved Royal Enfield and went back to the good old days of laid back riding along the highways. The dates were fixed well in advance. It was an overnight ride over the weekend. The perfect way to spend one, considering the fact that I'm at home the whole day without a job. The excitement was more as I was going to ride with a whole new gang since it was organized by Royal Enfield Bandra showroom and not my usual Nerul gang.


     9th June 14:45 was the reporting time at the showroom. My poor timing calculations coupled with confusing  and narrow streets of Bandra meant that I made it to the showroom only at 15:45. A whole hour late since I sort of had a mini Bandra darshan finding my way to the showroom. I felt embarrassed as I had challenged the guys at the showroom that there is always a delay in the start up at Nerul but this time I was the cause of the delay. Luckily for me, there was another bike which came in after me in a very bad shape. So the entire frustration was removed on that fellow and we had to chuck him out of the ride. Two familiar faces in the form of Lloyd and Mandar were a relieving sight. They were more than happy to welcome me after a long long time. After a brief hearing given by the showroom manager Harshil Desai, we were finally ready to be flagged off with our tanks full.


     We started thumping at 16:45. Weekend meant that we had to wade through traffic all the way up to Borivili. To make matters worse, there was a naka- bandi for no good reason. Anyway, as usual no cops stopped this Royal convoy and we finally started cruising after the check post. The weather was perfect with overcast skies and light winds blowing across. Once we reached the highway, we were on cruise control mode. A line of 9 Bullets riding along in a disciplined manner at more than 100 kmph was a lesson in controlled use of power with a sense of responsibility. NH 8 was a cruiser's paradise. Of course it was also a little sleep inducing specially when you ride constantly at the same speed. Having covered more than 100 kms, we finally decided to take a short break. All bikes were lined up and the photo session began. Curious onlookers gathered to watch us posing along our bikes. A blasting start from Lloyd got us going again till we reached our snacking point, about 15 minutes away from where we stopped. A young lad came in rushing to ask us who we were and where were we heading to. It was the only restaurant along the highway after miles and miles of concrete. The showroom manager had fixed a flag on his Standard 350 which was a perfect way to advertise the brand. A lot of tourists took note of us as we entered the restaurant fully clad in our biking gear.


    A quick sip between lips and we were good to go again. We rode into the twilight and were going at a good pace till we faced our first set back. With no street lights along the highway, we realized rather late that our tail man was stuck somewhere. Our wing man Mandar realized this when he was not able to spot the headlight of our tail man Vijay. One phone call and we came to know that Vijay's battery cable had some issues. Luckily for us, he was our chief mechanic for this ride, so his expertise guided him and he soon joined us where we were waiting for him. We continued our journey in the dark, passing mammoth trailers on our way and finally reached our point of turn to the Union Territory of Daman. If the highway was dark, the interior roads were even more. Narrow lane with dense forest cover on both sides posed a significant challenge on us but at the same time it was a delightful sight. Headlight beams became the most important component for all of us. We finally entered the town when we passed through a huge wall which greeted us to this once upon a time Portuguese ruled colony. Hot shower and a full course meal was what we all were waiting for once we managed to reach our villas after a string of wrong turns. By the time we crashed for the night, it was 02:00 in the morning.


    A lazy Sunday morning woke us  up with sunlight literally hitting our faces. We decided to hit the nearby beach only to realize that it was a rocky one and low tide made it more disappointing. We packed our bags and were scheduled to ride back home at 13:30. Quick tune ups to all the bikes by Vijay and we were set to ride back home. A huge fan base for Royal Enfield had developed as weekenders waved a huge good bye to us as we left our villas. A smooth ride all along the highway with not a single dark cloud looming over our heads helped us reach bang on time for lunch at the same highway restaurant at about 16:00. Full king sized meal was ordered for all. As we waited with increasing hunger pangs we managed to avoid the first showers of the day. Before lethargy kicked in, we got ourselves ready and started riding again. Pace was slower as the roads were wet. Our wing men Lloyd and Mandar did a fantastic job of maintaining a decent pace and we were nearly touching Virar when suddenly a massive screech of the tyres and in a span of seconds, Lloyd was down. He barely managed to escape being run over by a mini van. A classic case of irresponsible driving by Indian motorists. While Lloyd was giving indications to the van to move aside to make way for our gang, typical impatience and ignorance on part of the driver meant that he moved on to our lane and shoved Lloyd out of the way. Thankfully riders behind were disciplined and were able to brake on time to avoid running over Lloyd. Traffic came to a standstill as the blame game began. The damage was done. The front brake lever fell apart, tank was dented in several areas, tail lights were no longer there as they were smashed. Thankfully, Lloyd was unhurt. Not even a scratch. It clearly indicated the importance of safety gear. Another testimony to the ruggedness of Royal Enfield was witnessed. Despite the major accident, one kick and the bike was roaring like ever before. The only problem was Lloyd had to make it home without a front brake in these wet and dangerous conditions. This is where his experience and skills came to help him. Vijay offered to ride back Lloyd's bike home but Lloyd bluntly denied that. I guess every man loves his machine more than anything else.


    We stopped for a while under a bridge as our senior most member (56) was having difficulties riding in the wet. A full fledged rainbow showed its face as we waited. The vibrant colours lifted our spirits and we were back on the road again. The city traffic was crawling at snail's pace. We maneuvered our bikes along the edges to keep going. Suddenly, 'Uncle Colourful' slid along the muck and added a brown shade to his linen. We advised the showroom assistant to take home the old timer as conditions kept getting worse. As we rode on I had a terrible time since my visor was covered with spray of dirt. Riding with an open visor with flashing headlights from the opposite direction was too painful. We finally reached our last common point from where we began splitting up and went our separate ways. Lloyd, Mandar and me were together till I lost track of them at one of the signals. Luckily for me, I had been on that route previously so I had no issues coming back from Ghodbunder road.

    As I rode back alone in partially wet conditions I finally realized that I had not taken a single photograph on this entire trip. But the whole trip was so eventful, it is bound to never leave my head. I came home fully covered in dirt. The bike sported a motocross appearance with only the saddle left to be covered by mud. All in all, a thoroughly enjoyed trip with a totally new gang. Can't wait to ride again with them!!!!! 

Saturday, May 26, 2012

What Makes Us John Rambo??

This is a sort of come back blog. After over a month of exam fever I finally am able to do what I like. Lets see how explosive it gets....

    Recent turn of events have got me thinking, what makes us John Rambo in real life??
   As a kid I'm sure many of us have grown up watching this iconic fictional character win over situations almost hypothetical. We loved him for whatever he did, however he did without once thinking of the magnitude of destruction caused. But most importantly, we forget that this guy has no emotions. He just goes through the motions in life like a programmed machine. No time for love, no family (if any) and evidently no life beyond the worn torn fields. Dripping blood smells like fresh flowers to him.

   Just a few days back when my granny had a bi ventricular failure my own actions made me think... Am I turning into an unwanted Rambo???? All I did was call out the ambulance and told my other granny it's better she leaves for good (considering she didn't live a life the way it is to be) The other granny too agreed with me. Luckily this angelic friend of mine had the courage to 'kill' the Rambo in me and knock some sense into me saying everything is going to be OK. Just because people suffer we cannot be praying for their demise. Her words coupled with my actions fueled my thoughts to list out possible situations which make us this so called hero. Is it good??? is it bad?? who knows????


1. My past has been hell: Here we have a set of people who have had a miserable past. They have grown up in the most atrocious conditions. Either they have been beaten up as part of their upbringing or they have had to face  multiple calamities at different points of time in their lives. We all do sympathize with such people. It has taken a lot of courage on their part to still survive and be what they are today. I salute such people. They teach us what it takes to be tough as steel, absorb pain and move ahead in life.
  
   But sadly, like I mentioned earlier such people become numb to the good things in life over a period of time. They forget their purpose of existence and live a life that is preset to achieve some distant goal which they are not sure of. Since they themselves are unsure of the goals, they take unusual steps to achieve them. They care a damn about their kids, crib about work and lead a life as though the world is pointing daggers at them. A slight turn and you get pierced. Despite knowing their own miseries and terrible past they fail to move out of it when required and make others around them feel, pain is all that's around. Negativity all around.... Their standard dialogue " Just do as told and ask no further questions. I've been through worse". A mechanic shows more "concern" to the machines than these people show to other human beings around them. Wake up!!!!... there's a vast difference between mere survival and living.


Zero on emotions


2. Been there done that: This breed is the most unwanted in my opinion. They claim to have done everything under the sun and nothing is new for them. Such people are left with no purpose in life as they have done it all. Instead of "learning" to live, they end up ruining other lives around them. They are so frustrated that they just end up destroying whatever comes their way. Achievements of others mean nothing to them. Be it pain or gain, everything is on a comparative basis. They analyze it in this manner... "Is it better than what I did??? Is it more painful than what I had to go through???"

     Every day is just a task for them. They get up, do the job and repeat the process till they collapse. They give unwanted advice to people who don't even seek any. When people around get frustrated with their attitude, it fuels more rage in them and suddenly people make no sense to them. They lose faith in people and lead a lonely life talking to all possible non living items. It's below their dignity to apologize and set things right. Again, no emotions except sorrow to which they become accustomed to over a period of time. A simple line which says "let bygones be bygones" is beyond their understanding. They claim that others treat them to be as expendable as dog poop.
This John Rambo is definitely of no use. We don't need him. He's as dangerous as a misguided missile.
 
Daily routine


 
3. Situations demand so: Many a times we face situations which force us to be stone hearted and just do what's required and get done with it. Not a time for emotions. No one can be blamed for this. People who are expected to take control of the situation are in a state of shock or are busy relieving themselves in the loo out of sheer tension. One has no choice but to take up the responsibility of such people who otherwise claim to be very stable in every situation.
    Most of us fall in this category, if not by choice, definitely by force. No harm in being a Rambo in such situations. In fact its the best form of Rambo. But what is really worrying is that this variety needs to be well controlled and categorically reminded that only in such situations one needs to be a Rambo.

    These are the true Rambos who have a stone heart when required and a one that melts with genuine emotions. But one needs to be really careful as it is very easy to drift away and fall into category 2 and eventually category 1.


What is important is that we understand simple human emotions and lead a life worth living and not just go through the motions of it. What Rambos need to understand is that people around them are not as strong as them. They enjoy and cherish the small yet beautiful moments in life. They need to understand that even if their life has been miserable, its best to make another life worth living rather than converting them to another pain baring, emotion and compassion lacking person.

      The environment around becomes much more comfortable and joyous when people understand each other and lead a loving, caring and a meaningful life. There is life beyond one's own!!

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Royal To the Core!!!









                                         A beauty hand made called ROYAL ENFIELD,
                                         Truly 'CLASSIC' in every sense indeed.
                                         A name that has withstood time,
                                         Something that makes it always sublime.


                                        We can storm the roads on a 'THUNDERBIRD',
                                        With the distinct THUMP, we all have heard.
                                        At times bogged down by a failing oil pump,
                                        Always at ease while riding on bumps.



                                        Started off, with the legendary 'STANDARD',
                                        Today we have a beefed up herd.
                                        With joyous smile we make the booking,
                                        With bated breath we keep waiting.



                                       Mass produced bikes, racers, etc,
                                       Are blown away by the 'BULLET ELECTRA'.
                                       Its not something you just ride,
                                       But, a matter of Prestige and Pride.



                                     Hours we spend with polish and foam,
                                     To keep that everlasting shine on chrome.
                                     After all, its a machine so Royal,
                                     One has no choice, but to stay Loyal.



                                    Some call it a curse, some a gift.
                                    But today, we have a left foot shift.
                                    Winters demand more than 'a' kick to start,
                                    Still we ride with all our heart.



                                  A symbol of power, a symbol of love,
                                  For most of us, a passion all above.
                                  350 or 500, onlookers curiously inspect,
                                  No wonder these beauties command nothing but RESPECT!!!!










A day at the Hospital

Very recently my granny suffered a bi ventricular failure. She was on ventilator for a few days. We all waited anxiously till she was declared fit for an angioplasty that gave her a new life. In the process we took turns to spend days at the hospital running around with medicines and waiting to meet the doctors. A rather unusual scene for most of us... It got me thinking and I killed time at the waiting lounge by writing a small description of a typical hospital scene.


Screaming sirens guide you in,
The cold air inside pricks you like a pin.
Long faces at every corner,
The sign boards serve as a stern warner.



                           







With bated breath people restlessly wait,
Hoping & praying its not too late.
Prayers & chants are in full flow,
Some of them fast, some slow.


In comes a bleeding soul,
Body full of wounds & holes.
Face covered with tubes & mask,
Docs sure at hand have a task.












On a single call people run up the stairs,
To catch a glimpse of the ones they care.
The bodies lie in pain & despair,
A sight for some, too much to bare.


For some, its the worst of their fears,
They breakdown into a sea of tears.
They scream & shout beating their chests,
Forcing the experts to re do all tests.






As they wheel out one lifeless body,
In comes rushing another injured body.
A routine sight for some to see,
Not a place to be for you & me.




Monday, April 16, 2012

A View through my Visor

There came a day when I was totally fed up of studying. The pages started getting heavier as I realized in more than 2 hours I've just flipped them on 3 occasions. I told myself the best way to refresh is to meet some close friends. But when they too are not available for some of the most illogical excuses, what do you do??? There are 3 things I can always count on. a) My loyal Royal Enfield
                                                     b) My Canon camera
                                                     c) My love for photography
I managed to put up all 3 together and thoroughly enjoyed my much needed break.

Hanumanji's Orange!!

Setting sun off Palm Beach road

Basking under the Sun!!

Can't have enough of it

Nature's own mirror

Last glimpse


After the Sunset.... 

Moonshine 

Night lights around the pond

Friday, April 6, 2012

Wish You were here...

Never has there been a year,
That I haven't shed a drop of tear.
Simply wishing you were here.

                                              In Your lap when I rested as a boy,
                                              I found comfort and everlasting joy.
                                              You held my tiny fingers while we walked,
                                              Never have I felt so safe and docked.

Oh!! I so wish You were here,
Each time you banished whatever my fear.


If I ever had a bad day in school,
You made me smile by being my fool.
You'd read to me poems and prose,
Despite yearning for a peaceful doze.

                                           
                                             Oh!! I so wish You were here,
                                             To wipe off every drop of my tear.


Each time you let me in opening the door,
I knew You had something for me in store.
Showered I was with Your 'Grand' motherly love,
Felt fearless and free like a flying dove.

                                           
                                          To You I was always a tiny creature,
                                          But to me, You were the finest teacher.
                                          As You began growing in age,
                                          Advice You gave me like a holy sage.


Oh!! I so wish you were here,
To me someone always dear.


                                         Never would You let me be scolded,
                                         For, You'd shoo them away with your arms folded.
                                         Today as I see your photo in a wooden frame,
                                         For sure I know my life would not be the same.

Friday, March 16, 2012

The Arrival of the Bird!!!


I really do not know how to start off. This was something I wanted so badly since I got a first taste of it about 10 years ago. No points for guessing what it is, especially for people who regularly read my blog. They surely know what I’m talking about. I was 13 when I rode a bike for the very first time. It was a 1968 Jawa 2 stroke 250cc model. The first kick and I was head over heels for it. The distinct sound of its twin exhausts was something no one can ever miss. The illegal riding lessons began in the mean streets of Chembur. My cousin who was using the bike taught me the hard way. The lessons began with me having to put the bike on the main stand. Then came the all important kickstart. We were already in the era where Japanese bikes were flooding the Indian markets and bikes started with a mere push of a button. But as elders say, some things are best learnt the old school way. I told myself I had to own a bike. But for me the bike had to be an actual bike. Not some mass produced plastic (no offence). Since the Jawa had died around 1995-96, the only other distinctly sounding bike was the Royal Enfield with its signature thump and classic British styling. It stood out for its Machismo and Rugged appeal.
Fast forward a few years and I was in the year 2010-11. After months of discussions, pleading, sleepless nights, never ending arguments and drawing up innumerable cost benefit analysis sheets it was finally agreed. My folks said YES to a bike. I was feeling like Alexander who wept when there were no more worlds to conquer. Believe me, it was that mammoth a task to convince my parents for over a decade.  I clearly remember it was the 12th of February 2011. A Saturday, my dad was home. He voluntarily asked me if I was ready. I asked ready for what???? He said we can go to the showroom and see the models. My eyes lit up and heart rate scaled to new heights. I drove my dad to the Royal Enfield brand store in Nerul, Navi Mumbai. It was bustling with a lot of riders and curious onlookers. The riders were ready to be flagged off for their ride of the month. I imagined myself doing all that very soon. We entered the showroom and I showed my dad the model I wanted. It was the Bullet Electra a step up from the evergreen Standard 350 model. Then my dad asked for the fuel indicator. I said only the Thunderbird has an indicator rest have to be filled up at regular intervals. My dad almost got a paralytic stroke when he heard that. A bike without a fuel indicator???? How is that possible?? I said its typical vintage styling with the British heritage still kept up. He refused to buy that. Anyway, it made him look at the Thunderbird more closely and he said this looks really good. Although no match for the original bullet but has a fuel indicator and a charm of its own.
Suddenly I saw this desi version of Sylvester Stallone with his biceps raring to tear out off his tee & a handle bar moustache flipping through an auto magazine. I looked at myself and thought is this bike actually meant for me?? Will a pile of bones actually be able to handle this beast?? He looked at me and smirked away. I knew what he was thinking... Every Tom, Dick & Harry wants to own an Enfield. I sat on the Thunderbird and felt like a bamboo forced to be kept erect. I suddenly changed my mind and told dad it was time to leave. He was so perplexed for a second and asked me if I was in my senses. As we drove down the silence was killing me. The dead silence was further slit into pieces when my dad came across a Hero Honda showroom and asked if I wanted to check it out. That was the worst possible comparison one could ever make. A Royal British legend, to an Indo-Japanese 150 cc thrash (again no offence). We came home and had a detailed discussion again. I suddenly lost all my confidence and passion for riding.  I logged on to the Royal Enfield website and read a few ride stories written by women riders and the attention they got from their male counterparts. It only made me feel miserable as I concluded that whatever women did turned out to be sexy or cute but I had to have a bulkier frame to be eligible to ride one of those beefy machines. Finally after a lot of self analysis and conviction I told dad lets go in the evening and book it. He said I had totally lost it and unwillingly came along again to the same place. Without a second thought I went up straight to the showroom manager and said I want to book a black Thunderbird. In a matter of minutes the paper work was done and an advance of Rs. 1000/- was made. There was a waiting period of 3-5 months. I told myself it was enough for me to gain a few pounds and get those all important biceps and triceps.
From that day on every Royal Enfield that went thumping past me was minutely observed and the sound of it was noted. I called up my cousin and asked him if the new models made the same distinct ‘dug dug dug dug’. To my disappointment he said NO. The new aluminium Unit Construction Engine with new silencer to meet government norms meant that the thump was reduced considerably. That made me search online for different varieties of silencers. To my shock most new buyers were looking out for the same. I realised that the thump was what the craze stood for. Indore, Punjab, Ratlami, Glasswool and of course some highly customised silencers were the most noted ones. Within a month into the booking without concrete evidence of its arrival on time I had already selected the silencer to replace the factory fitted one. I used to sit with the Thunderbird brochure throughout the day. I had my exams coming up in a month but instead of remembering the legal sections I memorized the Thunderbird’s technical specifications. That attitude attracted a lot of arguments with my folks.
 The following weeks were really agonizing. Every day the papers carried news about bikers being mowed down or riders seriously injured because they were caught between road raging nut cases. All my hopes and confidence were dented. It was beyond repair I felt. I just ran out of people who could advice me. My granny, elder bro, friends, fellow riders and of course the Almighty. I called up my dad  in office and said lets cancel the booking. I was shivering for a few days. He finally calmed me down saying that risks have to be taken and this is the age where you can enjoy but as a parent I will still hesitate but that shouldn’t deter you. That was convincing enough. Back I was to checking out silencers and whether they met the emission norms. On the 12th of every month I religiously used to call up the showroom and enquire about the delivery.
I was in the middle of my CA Final exams in May. On 11th of May a day before my birthday I got a call from the showroom saying that the balance amount had to be paid. My mom was home and she failed to understand why I was jumping around with joy when I still had 3 papers remaining. I told her about the call and she gave the coldest response one can ever give. Don’t worry about the funds sit and study and don’t get distracted. The delivery would be within 10 days of the payment. I told mom I’m cancelling my trip to Bhutan which was from 19th – 26th May.  She blasted me off to my room saying that almost 35,000/- had been paid for my much needed vacation and if I even thought of cancelling she would cancel the ‘Royal’ booking at the last minute. That made me think normally again... :D. I asked my granny for an auspicious day for taking the delivery. She said 27th May was really auspicious.
The day after my exams I made all the payments and submitted the documents for registration and went off to the land of happiness. I was truly happy. Was it the place?? Or was it the anticipation?? The latter had an edge!! On arrival from Bhutan I just flung my suitcase and called up the showroom to check if all was going as per schedule. The manager said Sir, you can take the delivery tomorrow after 2PM. Lord Buddha must have told the Lama what kind of happiness I had come to seek in the cold mountains.  That night for obvious reasons I just could not sleep. The next day I called up my biking pro cousin Karthik and he was more than willing to come along.
It was around 4:30pm 27th May, when I went to the showroom. There stood a black muscular beauty gleaming and waiting to be caressed by me. The keys to my happiness were given and a few riding tips later I kickstarted off my biking life. For safety reasons Karthik took over the bike on the highway back home. The icing on the cake was when my dad left from work early to witness this historic event in my life and gave me a big hug. Those words still ring in my ears. “Wish you many many happy miles of riding!!!!!


PS: After clocking nearly 10,000kms within a year and gaining and losing around 10kgs I can convincingly conclude that all you need is passion and not physique to ride a Royal Enfield.

Saturday, February 25, 2012

A Toast to the Coast


                                                             

Well, after a short hiatus I was back on my bird for the next ride. Probably my last ride before my exam comes up. I had recently got my bike serviced only to be prepared for this short dash to a beautiful coastal town. It was a Sunday. For some, a day to catch up on some more sleep. The all important additional 5 minutes that invariably ran into hours eventually. But I had a very early start. I left home at 05:30 to assemble at the Royal Enfield Showroom at Nerul. It was supposedly a ride termed as Valentine’s ride. I was told that a ‘female pillion’ would add more memories to the ride. Considering that, it was a sad start for me as I had nobody to get along. I was only hoping & praying that I was not the only loner in the group. To my surprise, I was the 2nd person to assemble at the showroom. Another Thunderbird (Red in colour) stood there with 2 helmets dangling from the handlebar. I told myself, the time has come to feel miserable. The 1st couple on a red Thunderbird (Valentine effect) all ready to cosy up for the entire ride.  Two guys approached the bike and introduced themselves to me. I heaved a sigh of relief when I was told that they plan to ride on that bike.
    A few minutes later, the showroom manager came in and opened the shutter to a loud clatter. A collection of these beautiful handcrafted machines stood inside tempting all of us to buy another Royal Enfield. Soon one thump followed another and a total of 15 bikes assembled side by side. The company’s regional manager was the one we were waiting for. As soon as he came and geared up, we assembled in a single line and turned on the ignition and woke up the neighbourhood as usual, before we began our journey. Before I forget, the start was more than satisfying as all the 15 riders were loners (barring the red one and of course the showroom manager and regional head riding together with the mechanics). We proceeded along the Uran JNPT road. A route I had never been on before. It was a single lane road with big trailers running along on one side and mammoth containers stacked up at the container stations visible on the other side. The biggest challenge was to overtake a slow moving container. Every few meters there was a sharp turn and the never ending trailer ahead of us literally blinded us. After passing through the truck dominated stretch we came to the local village roads. After following those trucks endlessly we thought we could now shift up the gears and speed up. But before we could even think, we found another set of authentic Indian road blocks. Cattle strewn all over the road, blissfully chewing. I’ve always wondered... Don’t their jaws ever stop???? After carefully avoiding their horns which were more frightening than ours’ (despite the sound) we progressed further and thankfully at a higher speed.
   We were wound by the twists and turns that continued throughout the rural stretch before we finally reached our 1st point of assembly, the toll naka just before the dangerous yet scenic NH17. NH17 was a killer stretch with the maximum number of accidents in the recent past. The ride was definitely not a race but this route had sent my heart racing. Enchanting scenery on both sides of the road but a single lane without dividers meant more focus on the road. Each time I had to overtake a vehicle ahead I had to peep in to avoid oncoming traffic at the same time ensure no one rams me from the back and I don’t ram the vehicle in front. Looking in the mirrors was a challenge with the sun reflecting sharply and blacking you out completely. But thankfully our wingmen did a fantastic job to ensure we had minimum difficulties in making progress along this narrow highway. We were forced to stop along the road as one of the riders had some battery troubles. It was probably the best place to have a breakdown. The scenery left us hypnotized. You could see farm land as far as your eyes could. The trees were completely shed off all their leaves. At the end, was a train passing by, making it a perfect postcard shot. After the brief halt we marched on, to finally stop for breakfast at the all important Vadkal naka. It was a busy junction and a gang of 15 thumpers surely caught the attention of the locals. A dose of hot vada pav, misal pav and cutting chai, we all were fully recharged. The ride was getting tougher as the sun was hitting us hard. All the protective gear suddenly became a big burden as we were sinking in our own sweat. Another hour into the ride and a mechanical failure brought us to a stop. The rear brakes on the showroom bike began to wear off. At that point we had enough of our gear. We all unzipped our jackets and rode along feeling the wind rushing through our bodies. The final stretch was probably the best. We just rode along parallel to the beach. We had the coconut trees lined up on one side making it green and the deep blue sea on the other side, a sheer visual delight. We finally stopped at a place where we could just park and spend some time in the beach. The bikes rested along with us, before each of us got into our swimming trunks and made a dash to a much needed splash. The water was chilled even though the sand was burning. I just sat in the water thinking of my ideal girl. I was so deeply lost in those romantic thoughts that I actually felt as if she was sitting right beside me. As the waves gushed in the thoughts began to take a beautiful shape till I was hit by some kind of a twig. Alas!!! All those dreams came to an abrupt end.
    I cleansed myself and was ready for lunch. We all hoped for a really royal spread as hunger pangs had taken control of our bodies. Before we could imagine the dishes we would be served, we faced a puncture. We cursed that nail which penetrated the tyre to our hearts’ content as we all were succumbing to hunger. We finally split up and 1 group headed for lunch & the remaining 4 riders were attending to the puncture. To make things worse 3 riders including me lost our way and ended up going 15 kms away from the restaurant. The wingman with us lost his cool and gave a piece of his mind to the lead rider for not halting at the important junction. We finally managed to get together and had lunch at about 16:00. Before the laziness kicked in we started our return journey.
The same curvy roads wore a completely different look in the evening. It was bustling with people who had come to shop at the bazaars which cropped up along the streets. As twilight approached I couldn’t resist but imagine “what if my dream girl was pillion to me?? The only missing element in this beautiful ride.” May be next time... I thought. I rather forced myself to think that way as I just couldn’t stop imagining. Well, the thoughts started fading off slowly along with the sunlight and my focus had to be on the road as there were no street lights. I nearly had a freak accident at a blind turn when suddenly out of nowhere a cat decided to cross the road. I missed it probably by the length of its own whiskers. I thought for a moment it was either that feline or me that was going to survive that night. I had no room to brake and had I braked hard I would have surely fallen off and been run over by the vehicle behind me. That’s when I told myself “thank God my dream girl wasn’t sitting behind me”.  The beams of our head lights curled around the meandering roads and guided us safely back to our final assembly point. Most of us had become restless to get back home. I was facing a massive headache throughout the return journey due to the delayed lunch.

  A final group photo was shot and we went our separate ways. As I rode back home the entire day was playing in my head like a tape recorder on loop mode. The new friends, the beach, the love struck ME, and of course what would this ride be without an RE.

Monday, February 20, 2012

The Other Side of The Road...

Little did I know to teach someone to ride,
All of a sudden I became her most important guide.
What if she would slip n slide,
Would I be able to take it in my stride??

She sat on the bike with a beaming smile,
Urging to ride from mile to mile.
While she faced those usual starting yips,
Never was she closed for some useful tips.

Soon she began to shift the gears,
Her confidence overshadowed my fears.
Banished was her initial hiccup,
Gracefully she surged from trot n canter, to gallop.

Her long standing dream was soon fulfilled,
That's when I valued what I did.
With her face filled with an enchanting glow,
There was a rush of emotions waiting to flow.

With her now riding regularly,
I see her do so more professionally.
Each time I see her ride away to glory,
I feel blessed to be a part of this story.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Life in College


                                Sitting in my class room on a bench of wood,
                         I relive the moments, very few good.
                         As I enter my last year in college,
                         I realize there was more to it than just gain knowledge.
                        

                         The First Year was a real quickie,
                         Before I could notice, it was over in a jiffy.
                         Not wanting to do much,
                         I wasted a whole year as such.


                         When I entered year Two,
                         I quickly made a list of things to do.
                         The list that was thoughtfully made,
                         Remained unread and was soon to fade.
                         I found myself in a group of three,
                         Each of us, having very little time free.
                        All taking up the Herculean course of CA,
                        We told ourselves, life was better off doing BA.
                        
                        
                        Then came the dry and miserable patch,
                        For, there was not a single girl in my catch.
                        As I saw the so called couples cozying in front of all,
                        All I could do was to sit & study in the reading hall.
                       
  

                        Suddenly I saw myself in the third & final year,
                        I told myself the end was near.
                        Life was pretty much the same,
                        With no added spark to the diminishing flame.
                        I always thought that life in college was not to be forgotten,
                        Some how I ended up making mine slightly rotten.
                       

                        As the end of college came nearer & nearer,
                        I found every single day shorter & dearer.
                        In my quest to be a person successful,
                        I ended up losing my college life youthful!!

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Ride to Break Free- Part 2

Continuing from where I left... I slowly started getting back to my senses. It was really the need of the hour. We were to off road our way up to a hill top to watch the sun set. But before we marched on we had a power lunch. A little bit of everything in the right quantity to ensure no one dozed off. We started our way back up to the village. The narrow kutccha roads were a real challenge. But it was only the beginning. As the sun reflected off our fuel tanks we rode on to the dustier and dangerous patches.

 It was my 1st ever experience riding on nothing but big blocks of stones and to make it worse fine sand covering the entire stretch which meant there was no room for error. Throughout the bumpy ride there was 1 big question in my head. Will I make it without scratching the machine and keeping myself alive atleast till my results??? Then all of a sudden a big WHAM and I was nearly thrown off the bike. I was focused on the question which meant no focus on the so called road. I hit a boulder and could have been crushed between the bike and the big rock. Thankfully I was able to hold on to the handlebar and just about keep the engine running. From that point on my heart rate was probably as high as the engine's RPM. A sharp hairpin bend saw a lot of people struggling for grip some of them falling off and getting back without any hassles. That's when I realized that my moment was not too far away. Exactly 10 mins later I braked to avoid a pit only to lose grip and the sand ensured I also finely fell off the saddle. Luckily, I had Manish Sharma behind me to boost my confidence and keep me going. And finally we reached the top which gave us this breathtaking view.




A professional photo session was all we could think of. With the sun beating down on our napes and all of us covered in dust we decided to sit back and watch the sun dip lower behind the mountains.


Unfortunately we had to race with the sun back to the ground as there were no street lights. If the ascend was challenging the descend was like taming a snake. Every grain of sand wanting us to slip at every possible corner and every boulder and crater welcoming us wickedly to their paths. We somehow managed to reach base with not a single puncture. THANKFULLY!! All of us 'soot'ed up we reached our tents finding our way through the deserted streets with the only rays of hope being our headlights.

 It was freezing cold at night and I continued to be wrapped in my dusty riding gear. A tired bunch of us wanted some food and a place to crash. At that moment we were told that our main guests and entertainers for the night were just leaving from Kharghar. Suddenly all of us were pepped up and we decided to collect logs of wood to set the camp fire. At 23:00 hours when almost the entire resort was asleep they were woken up by 9 screaming engines which were welcoming 2 more to our camp site. All they could do was stand at their balconies and stare at this rare sight that showcased brotherhood .We danced, sang and finally ended up in our tents out of sheer weakness after the tiresome day. The next morning was a treat to our eyes with the moon still reflecting in the water's purity and the rays of sun beaming from the other end. All of us cleaned our bikes with the dew that had neatly settled and were preparing for our ride back home.


moonshine on the water



Final moments

We were reluctant to leave this piece of paradise. But that's how life is, short experiences but everlasting memories. I'm saying this because I'm fully back to my senses. One has to get back to his/her senses after such a rejuvenating trip being so close to nature in all possible forms and what better way to do it than on 2 wheels!!

Mumbai Meri Jaan


                        Sitting under the old banyan tree,
                        I seek to set myself free.
                        Wondering about this beautiful city,
                        I tell myself what a pity!!!

                        Everywhere you go there's the hustle & bustle,
                        Not a bit of silence as clean as a whistle.
                        Having lived for more than 20 years in this city,
                        I wonder if this is the place to be.

                       Famous for its well known local trains,
                       I find travelling in it, taxes my brain.
                       Space to stand, just a few inches,
                       All you face is the commuters' pinches.

                       'Spite of all the problems mentioned above,
                       There's so much in this city to love,
                       Be it the towering new high-rises or cricket ground,
                       Some of them Oval & some round.

                       As each day passes,
                       I meet people of different classes.
                       Most of them working on their dream,
                       Hoping to take back the hard earned cream.

                       People here are ever colourful,
                       Most of them never fail to do the needful.
                       Each one doing their job sincerely,
                       Working hard & returning home merrily.

                       Sitting under the same old tree facing the west,
                       I see the city at its magnificent best.
                       As I see the crimson sun set,
                       I savour this moment that I shall never forget.

                       Often thinking of leaving this place,
                       For its ever increasing pace,
                       I realise there's so much in this city to look out for,
                       Which all of us can sit & adore.

                       When I see myself outside this city,
                       I shall again tell myself what a pity!!!
                       For, I would never like to say good-bye,
                       To this island city of Mum-bai.

Retired "Hurt"


                              Walking down this cobble stoned street,
                              My heart voluntarily skipped a beat.
                              I suddenly found myself back in time,
                              To the days I played football sublime.

          
                              The year was '06 & the month was August,
                              I entered the field with my knee feeling robust.
                              Within an hour into the match,
                              I came across my life's most defining patch.


                              All my dreams of a come-back were shattered,
                              This time I realized my knee was surely battered.
                              As I faced those endless moments of agony,
                              All I could do was lie down & hold my knee.

                              With all elders forcing me to give this sport a rest,
                              I found every moment, a severe mental test.
                              For, they were asking me to give up this game,
                              Something that gave me name & fame.

                              With a last dream of donning the college shirt,
                              I found myself forcefully retired & painfully "hurt".
                              As I saw my team play & win,
                              All I could do was sit outside & give a forceful grin.

                              For anyone else it was just a game of football,
                              But for me, a passion above all.
                              A passion that always made me glow,
                              But today, the same passion is at an all time low.

                              A year & a half post surgery,
                              I find myself having made a decent recovery.
                              But each time I pass through the same old street,
                              I reluctantly accept the lost magic in my feet.