Monday, October 19, 2009

It takes more love to share the saddle than it does to share the bed

I've been riding bikes since I was 10 years old, starting with a Bajaj chetak my dad used for work. The scooter was what I’d love to call a limited edition. It was insanely heavy and for some reason it found a stable place in my heart. I remember taking it out every weekend and trying to max the speed limit on it. I just can’t remember the number of times my dad or his colleagues caught me speeding or jumping high up on a road bump. That would just result in me not being able to ride the bike for a couple of weeks ~ a fair bargain. Even the word Ecstatic I believe, cannot do justice to what I felt when I popped my first wheelie. When I showed my dad the same trick, I was completely deprived of the bike for a long long time.


I think it's very clear-cut: you either have motorcycles in your blood or you don't, and once that experience is there, it never fades away. It can be pushed back and down, but it never goes away.


My protracted and meandering journey with the bikes I’ve ridden till date has been a testimony on how to subdue and endure this passion. As I matured, I began to drop the need-for-speed and revitalize my motorcycle-riding experience into a pleasure enhancing adventure out into the world. There were occasional wheelies and stoppies just for the heck of it. You tend to respect that beast of a machine more each day. To me it was like having a soul mate. I fell in love with my ZZR, I named Dhannu (after a fable about a donkey my dad used to say while I was a kid) and I don’t think I can love anybody else (well except my folks) that way. You know how you get a warm feeling in you when you see somebody you really like. How your face canNOT stop smiling when that person approaches you. How you spend your nights knowing you would see the person again the following day. As creepy as it might sound that is exactly how I loved my bike. There is this girl who kinda made my heart dance a little recently which coincidentally reminded me of my bike and here you go a write up on my love. My only love!!


You share a bond with that special friend or whoever, and they can complete your sentences, sense how you would react to something, like you-for what you are and love you-for your defects. I feel my Dhannu completes me. I remember all those twists I took on those mountains I was riding. The bike was also a part of me contemplating those adrenaline gushing turns. This feeling is inexplicable and only those who are as crazy as me about these mean machines can understand what I am talking about.


It could be explained in the words of Paul Tetul (If I have to explain who this is, you are not qualified enough to read this!!)


You're the guy that'll be sneaking out of your bedroom at three o'clock in the morning to look at your bike. ~Paul Teutul, Sr., American Chopper, "Billy Joel"


I have seen past reminiscences invigorated into a smile as people who use to ride come over and talk to me about this bike: it has mystique and a bad-boy reputation and I can't go out on it without someone customarily sticking up a thumb in admiration or giving me a big grin as I glide by or pull up to a light (Yeah I used to stop at lights!). I hope I won’t be one of “those” who “used” to ride. There were days when I used to think ~ a day not ridden is a day lived short. It’s been a year and 2 months I have lost out of my precious life. When snow could not deter me from riding how a puny little job could bum me out of it?


Hang in there my friend, I will be there with you shortly or I shall die trying.

3 comments:

Guns said...

Mama... very emotional post abt ur bike ra..

May be I can understand a part(little) of it as I love my bike too..

Ur first paragraph reminded me of my 10th class,where I use to ride my mom's kinetic honda at 60kmph leaving my handlebar occasionally. I too was deprived of the bike for a long time as my maid saw my feats and complained to my mom.

In the intermediate, I used to watch my neighbor(actually edurintodu) starting his standard bullet, which resonated our whole house with its "thump"..tat was a beast...

Later I was in love with yamaha rx-135 and planning to go for a used one.. and thanks to vasu , I realized that I can really ride a bullet and now I'm a proud owner of a thunderbird (with my first salary and 95% loan :P )..

I really miss my bullet whenever I drive my car.. Even when I planned to leave abroad, Only thing in my mind is " I'm going to miss my bullet".


PS:I don't know the guy u mentioned. Naadi kakinada bike prema.. veedu maa oorodu kadu...

Hmmm..I wish that u bring ur love to india or atlest go back to ur love..

Rohit said...

Blow air on a dogs face, it gets crazy and Only a Biker knows why a dog sticks its head out of a car window. Thats the pleasure in riding Bikes!
I can understand the depth of ur writing about bikes as every biker has their own story. I was 4 when these bikes interested me but as I cudnt understand them, the only thing I would do to a lonely bike in my sight: enjoy that hissing sound when i poke into that air valve of a tyre. I still remember all those neighbor's complaints. At 7, I was strong enough to be CYCLING those Lunas and TVS 50s. When I turned 10 and then on, the only bikes that appealed and meant to me are my Dad's Yezdi Classic 250 CC and Standard Bullet 350 CC. From here on my story is same as that of urs.. riding them too young without knowing the complexities of the speeds, weights and their operations but I was regular taking my Dad's stick.
I know how much you miss ur Dhannu because when my Dad's Yezdi(Yezdi is 6 months younger to me and had seen me for 26 yrs) was sold 2 weeks back, I felt the same and it never comes back. But luckily, u have Dhannu still in ur store!
Peace vroooooooming..

Vasudha and Sreekanth said...

Wow... and yes I can echo this feeling. That bajaj chetak..ah nostalgia... Reminds me of all the helmet banging days of mine.. Sigh. And abt the ZZR dude.. I pillion rode it for 756 miles and I love it like a child.. and I can imagine how it tears you apart now. Hon.. all I want to say is that the biker spirit is what keeps you going.. maybe not a ZZR on Indian roads, but hey we will bullet our way thru...I miss my biking days but I'm gonna get them back as long as I have u,guns and mama for buddies :)