Miles to go before i stop....

I went to college for Sangam 2005, in Trichy. As usual, I rode down there in my motorcycle. It was a ride of about 800 kms, one way.

I stopped over at Chennai for a rest overnight, and I went over to Trichy the next day. There was supposed to be a dance party that night, and many of my old friends were there. And my Thunderbird, rechristened as The Zahir, was the center of attention in the college, as no one had ridden a motorcycle like that ever before.

Girls wanted a ride in it. And many more were just watching, not able to understand why I had ridden down for 800 kms, and spent 2000 rupees for the one way ride, when I could have been present there by traveling in a train, and spending 1000 rupees on a two-way fare.

But little do they know. Riding solves many mysteries for me, and solves many a problem too, like depressions. It is the stimulant that I need to imagine, which would otherwise have to be substituted by a person. Now you all know how difficult it is for me to find the sort of people who can communicate with me! Ya, I admit I am difficult.

When one takes a ride, or a trip for that matter, there starts a new scenario. A new perspective to the days ahead. You have to be at this place by this time. Your bike is getting heated up, so you need to stop. You are feeling sleepy, but all you can do is ride faster. There are those pedestrians and buffaloes that you have to keep dodging. It’s a new set of problems, and a new life for a short period.

Its amazing for the people who do the same thing day in and day out, it starts as a passing thought. I heard of somebody who is a biker. But I will never be one, though I would like to do something like that once in a while.

How many of us will do the extraordinary, for a change if not for anything else? How many of us dare to work for that? I am not too good too!

Somewhere, riding to some place is a great escape for me. I can escape from a rude conductor, an old bureaucratic railway employee, and haggling autowalas and so many other things that people can cause to individual's psyche. I would rather stop at someplace for a smoke where there are green paddy fields on both sides of the road, and lilies lining the road, and there would be no traffic, and I can relax, with no human pretensions and no responsibilities.

It feels like god being so careless. Flaunting life, like its not mine, and thinking like a man who just escaped from a life sentence. With every moment being my last, every breath being my first, and every turn being a decision decided by fate, and every maneuver being the divine grace of God. And I know, there are miles to go before I stop…

I did not go home this Diwali

I did not go home for diwali. The rains had just relented, and trains were not available. So our hero (meaning: Me) decided to go to Chennai and meet up with a few friends and come back.

I decided to ride the bike and make a trip out of the 2 days of holidays. I decided this on the day I was supposed to leave, during lunch time. I took the bike to the dealership workshop to get it checked, but the mechanic (the only one who can do a Bullet in Vijayawada) was on leave. So I called him on his mobile and went to his home. He had just had a sumptuous meal, a get together of some sorts in his family. He decided that my bike was road fit for a ride of about 1000 kms.

I wound up work by 4.30 pm and went home to pack up and left at 5.30 pm. I got out of Vijayawada amid fireworks and fading light. I rode till Guntur (40 kms) and stopped for tea, and by this time the dusk had started taking its mysterious shape. The road started becoming difficult with insects courting their death at my headlight, and I was wearing an open helmet and my face was full of dead insects. I could not open my mouth to even hum along.

Things cleared up after it got dark and I made it to ongole (160 kms) at around 8 pm. I decided to have dinner here, and had a traditional plate of Andhra meals. I pushed off at around 8.30 pm towards Nellore, some 230 kms away. This was the most enjoyable stretch.

The roads were deserted, with no pedestrian and slow traffic. The road was a 4-lane highway with no traffic coming in the opposite and it was smooth and straight, with signboards popping up once in a while saying “Design speed 100 kph”! This was like an open invitation to speed up things and I obliged and so did the machine. We started barreling along the highway at 90 kph, and I started making time.

And the road went on and on and so did I. I forgot to count the kilometers and time. The bike was responding well after the slow first stretch, during which it had gotten heated up well. It was accelerating better and we started overtaking all and sundry, even Volvo’s. I stopped at Nellore for a cold drink and I realized that I had been riding for 3.5 hrs non stop and had covered over 240 kms in the meantime, now that’s a great time for any biker worth his salt.

I crossed over into Tamil Nadu at around 12.30 am and the roads were good but without signs and information boards. My mind was tired, but the bike was not. I was doing 90 in a straight stretch, when I suddenly see a huge mound of sand emerging through the headlight beam. Had to apply sudden brakes, to find that the road on this side of the road divider had been washed away, and I had to take a diversion. There was never a board saying “take diversion”. I reached my friend’s place at 1.30 am.

Diwali this year was spent in sleeping, sleeping and more sleeping. I woke up in the late afternoon and me and my friend went out on a ride to ECR. Bikers in chennai would know the beauty and calm that this particular road offers to the minds that have become cramped from the crammed streets in the city. Then we were sitting in Thiruvanmiyur beach till late in the night, watching the sky explode into a thousand brilliant colors, with fireworks. It was wonderful and gladdening.

I started back from Chennai on the evening of the next day, at around 5 pm, and it was the same route, and the same pleasures. Only this time, I had an ear pain and sore throat. But I still decided to move on, as I had to get back to office the next day.

I stopped after I entered Andhra for a cup of tea and a smoke. The ride was beginning to tire me and this is where the fun in any ride starts. The mind stops thinking and instincts take over the riding for you. So till you stop for a rest, you never know how long you have been riding or how much your ass aches! Its like a trance or a numbness that sets in with extreme pleasure on overdose.

I was consistently doing 90-100 kmph. My mind was not thinking. There was no song in my heart. I was not looking at the scenery along the road. I wouldn’t say I was looking at the road either. I don’t know what was happening, on the road or within me or to the motorcycle . But I know that I was riding fast and I was safe. I wasn’t going to die then, when I was being satisfied.

The wind was on my face, and there was a race in my heart, and there was speed. And then came home, and a good night’s sleep.