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 12^th 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 12^th 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 11^th 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 19^th – 26^th 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 27^th 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 27^th 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.