The Differential of an amateur biker

The amazing head light, the customized low handle, the bumper sticker and the roar of the engine………..the beastly beauty, my first motorcycle, my first love.

Am another kid from neighborhood in love with powerful machines specially bikes, roaming around with bike magazines, naming pets after bikes with posters all around his room ranging from Ninjas to Ducatis. When my uncle used to come around in his bullet, I used to sprint out for a small ride before he came in and begged for another at least once before he left.

In today’s choking world of numerous facets, where each moment holds an opportunity and a trap. In such versatile lifestyle some rare things remain constantly candid. ….Biking 

With too many choices floating around, too many pressures at bay to envelope in an instant, it’s the cheering ride, the lighter side. Takes our concentration off all the chaos and make life simple : Gears , accelerator and road.

The stress takes its toll so, some meditate, some pray, some flirt, some smoke but I ride…..ride long on open highways.

As a kid growing up, the three things that fascinated e most were guns, video games and BIKES. Bikes, their speed, royalty and of course the style. The notion of biking was seconded by movies and relatives and family friends with Bullets and Bikes. These and more instilled a fascination and hunger for two wheelers, I still remember the drives with dad, standing on the foot board areas of chetak with hands on handle, a fulfilling experience. Even today behind the handle i feel like the 6 year old kid , racing with the wind, caressed by the rain, escaping the hot sun's rays.

A lot of my friends sleep over decisions , I learnt to drive over decisions…….usually long drives give me a clear perspective, a better handle on myself, so if you are confused over something go on a long early morning ride, am positive you’ll be better off making that decision.

The art of biking in India may not be a way of life but its freedom from the daily chores. A long drive on the motorcycle is a ‘REFRESH’ button for the limbo of everyday. It’s the buffer from the dull melancholies of dark days and from hyperactive swings of the bright days with excess energy to spend.

Ending in my Uncles words :  “ To fill the insides empty hole, my boy sit back and go on a roll “

BTW: My passion is my passion plus

 This post has been for Castrol Power 1 Blogging Contest. Have a look at Castrol Biking  www.facebook.com/CastrolBiking . 

Another one bites the dust

No majnu, no romeo,

none the less, worth a cameo,

lost in the intricate details,

battered by beautie's hails,

In tender care,

very precious and rare,

little innocence,

along comes a pinch of dare,

all in all a beautiful affair.

No beards involved,

no pegs, no puffs evolved,

into ecstasy he's enthralled,

one moment he's bold another cold.

A freshness in his tone,

a sparkle in his eyes,

vibes of love all along,

drive of passion of an unsettling dice.

 Makes me long ,

makes me realize am alone,

but there i get a pat on my back,

i smile for there will be friends till am gone...

Bikers - the brazen breed

 

Far far away from home on a lone bridge, on the freaky fazer, greeted by rising sun, i began to loose myself into moments just perfect. Such words walked right into my mind...

“Conquered mountains, trembling bridges,

amazing landscapes and some ‘smiles’ we left behind……

In memory, in hope, in an upcoming sunrise dope........

We are junkies now, of roads, rides, intangible binds...

we are high from adventure, from high altitude curvature...

full on in nature....empty in ledgers....

Breathe in some spirit....fill up some fuel, lets roll.....

Again there begins the duel between distances and I.....

                           Goodbye....."

                              

Biking, a part of me and i a part of it….forever

              

  .....My first encounter....

A hot, humid day in mid may, just another day. Behind my uncle on hero honda splendour.“Please uncle ..please...just once...just the handle...!!!”After hundreds of pleas and promises he leaves the handle for me.For a moment i was the one in charge, skipping a beat, over acting with the handle.Though a dramatic moment, a moment that began a new phase....one that's… alive.
Bikes and me, we go a long way back....well that would be a lie !!
but it just feels that way..
Getting to the point, it goes something like this.....

My first bike trip over 500 km , that too to Gangtok, Sikkim. calling it a road trip shall be much more appropriate, well at moments i liked to call it a kickass trip, for my ass must've grown muscles from the trademark indian road bumps.After a busy night of farewell to our seniors, with sleep deprived eyes but zeal filled spirits, of course late than planned, we set out on the mission.A mission to experience biking to its core, the part of the journey words shall fail to explain, part where paragraphs shall lose their paths. With backpacks and unavoidable safety gear we took off, the engine singing a song along, sharing the spirit with the sun, welcoming the whistle of the wind,i don't want to exaggerate, so i admit it’s not heaven riding long distances, it’s all about movements and moments, one for your body another for your mind.One end of swing being a pure adrenaline rush, sheer joy other being seconds of impatience.            
 Day 1 : Our day began pleasantly, but it was time of an adventure so things starting falling in place. Over pressure in the rear tire of fazer, a temporary puncture fix, a tube into a tubeless tire, consequently a change of tire, 6 hours staring at a hotel table, thunderous rain, and then falling asleep in a matchbox sized room. Such ended our first day, yet we were closer to our destination.

Day 2 : Starting from a place named Gazole, we rode north on some of the best newly laid roads in India, greenish yellow fields and lovely weather. A millimeter shave with a dog on NH – 34 at 90km/hr speed. After the slight hiccups, the straight roads welcomed us onto cloud 9 of bike riding and in a flash we were in Siliguri our pre-final destination, in a weather that  just backed us up. Up the hilly road to Gangtok was a step further in biking. With little to no experience in mountain riding we were a bit apprehensive, and to add some spice to the recipe it rained……it rained cats and dogs. Stones and mud sliding on to the roads. The moment of hope seemed past us when dramatically sun just came up and I swear there was a twinkle in the sky. The ride up was slow, steady and curvy; a couple of landslides got cleared on our way. Parallel to river Tista we rode to Gangtok, dripping wet and shivering from cold.Upon arrival we parked our bikes and set out to have a wonderful evening up in the hills. . After the tiresome ride, even Gorgeous Gangtok Girls couldn’t steal our attention from a delicious dinner and a good nights sleep.

Day 3 : Part of  day was dedicated to sight-seeing, frankly which was partially fun and partially obligatory as It wouldn’t sound sensible to lot of you if riding was put forward as the agenda. That evening we drove downhill, which turned out trickier than we thought and in dark was getting a bit off edge, with care and a little bit of dare we reached the planes  and called it a night.

Day 4: the last day of our trip was extraordinary in its nature, a clear sky and a day meant for riding and we just exploited it. Way back we touched our trips top speeds of 111km/hr on the Fazer and 107km/hr on Pulsar.  We had one thing in our minds, hosel……no our home, our beds in the hostel. That one day we drove more than 500 km, longest in a day for all of us I suppose, in traffic among goods carriers, and at moments fortunate enough on empty stretches, all in all it was the ultimate day of riding. Just 100km away from our college we took our last gift from nature, the cyclone effects led to thunderous windy rain. Again we were spared in an hour and through and through we drove, back into our dens.If still somebody asks me why I love bike riding……… i shall not waste energy trying to explain the unexplainable…… Just choke him till he runs out of breath and just say I feel about biking the way you feel about breathing now.

P.S. – Thanks a ton to Alok Shaurya,  Rajarshi Roy Choaudary, Rishabh Jha for sharing the trip with me. Also Khusnud Shahidi  for pestering me into writing this article

P.P.S – If am bored I might go on and post detailed articles on each day of he trip. 

P.P.P.S.- This post has been for Castrol Power 1 Blogging Contest. Have a look at Castrol Biking  www.facebook.com/CastrolBiking . If you have liked this entry, do vote.

Entremets

Home sweet home!!!

                A restless semester, ranging from stressful classes, pointless panics, countless excuses all behind the scenes now.  A chilly restless night and silent smiles gets you home, showers in the city, pave way with the muddy smell that penetrates straight into your heart, the long shower and light in people’s eyes just dissolves the time. Peaceful and lazy times,  times golden as they say.

                The elegant sunrise,  noise from the kitchen with smells divine, refreshing days and early nights trace out to idle times when in a corner of one’s mind a devil creeps up with smirks, the melancholic demeanor sets upon with time like sun sets off in the infinity in no time. Those hours stretch into void times with routine staring into the eyes, sleep becomes the only rescue from the dreadful comfortable convection of day. Illusions run up the sleeves with stupidity regulating the way.

                One such evening, staring right into the empty ocean, time rolled at will against tide, with darkness overpowering the light of day. Deep philosophical questions became the quest of nature responding with deserted beach and sleepy people. Sleep had abandoned me into a limbo so familiar that felt like a friend in deed. Binoculars at hand all was visible was darkness within and beyond. Tired of spotting moon in a cloudy night, I had given up. Just to heighten my spirits came a wave of thunders far far away in the open ocean, like disco light of the black and white era.

                Gazing through my binoculars spotting the waves in the dark within thunderous shouts passing the time, a chilled rush of breeze filled my breath and my eyes caught magic for a moment . Between magic and maniac, oh boy was I struck and lightning was just refusing to pass by me. Moments passed but stayed up till eternity, time had stopped so had my heartbeat. Was it fear or just wonder, understanding was beyond my reach. Taking rapid breaths I waited in patience with my binoculars focused and there it stuck again, lighting like ivory from paradise itself.

                My glued eyes took in all I could and there she was, jet black flowing hair covered her face , cherry red lips,  in pearly white outfit , in soft sands was a visual grandeur, teasing the waves , diming the stars, the angel herself, lost in ecstasy of life. A hope of divinity for lost souls. All ending with a blissful apocalypse inside me. Darkness again like deep below the hell self. But my insides were burning for thunder and I knew it wouldn’t be long. Momentarily , my eyes filled with surprise, joy , peace…perfection, I had never believed in such existences, impatient eyes with the warmth of moon, dearth of the lively sight, with eternity the endless fight, momentary life’s deep insight, for a instant of light.

  Wishes turned to commands pouring drops of holy water with ease.

Still meant mighty that moment, those large ruby like eyes, dimple studded cheeks just carved fresh from dexterous sculptors from far away worlds. Beauty in its finest, filling empty dark corners in hearts, the momentous sight filled sparkling eyes with chi that overflowed into my veins, pumping my blood at lightning speed……..elegance of life indeed. 

                Abhshek……Abhishek…..oi Abhishek…come on in mosquitoes are at large…..close the door. Perspiring in the coastal wind , I staggered into the living room, put on the idiot box and progressed into different degree’s of boredom in holidays laying lifeless drifting into darkness of limbo.

Holidays sometimes can get very boring indeed….!!