A STORY OF BULLET, THUMP's and ME !!!

An incident very close to my heart, I am the hero of this incident and a lot of antagonists (pun intended). Kids below certain age (not sure what age, ask your parents) please refrain from reading till you are matured enough. Hope you enjoy this as I did.

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My Heart Beats THUMP …THUMP…THUMP!!! – The Intro:


This happens sometime back, sometime when I was young both mentally and physically. Living to the spirits and following my heart. I had quit my job which I felt boring. I was with my parents, sleeping, eating, buying all sorts of necessary and unnecessary stuff for the home and partying at Goa at times.

It’s been 6 months and I have almost blasted all possible money in all possible ways which I earned over the past 2 years. I swear I haven’t seen that much money in my bank ever after that till now.

Finally my parents started kicking the fleshy part of my body, they realized that I had only the last 7500 rupees in my bank account and soon would start using up what’s available with them. I started attending interviews, not because I was an obedient son, but I also started feeling the heat of a dried up bank account.

Hurrah!!!! Got a job. To Bahrain. When? A month 'n' a half remain. Oh that’s some serious time.

Now before going any further, I need to mention this. One of my greatest thing (its more than a hobby) in life is riding motorbikes. Learnt to ride at the age of 14. My first fall also comes at the age of 14. Yes I started with a crash. Then 3 years after that I adjusted myself to gearless scooters. A lot of ..ooopss, just missed hitting that car, aawww that was a small fall .. happened in my life during those 3 yrs. Nothing major though. Again in my college days, started off with friends motorbike. Though I haven’t had a chance to own a motorbike, I have driven bikes extensively.

So while I wait for my visa and ticket, an idea occurs. My cousin owns a Royal Enfield Standard 350cc motorbike, shortly known as a Bullet (going to refer it so hereafter).It was his greatest possession. But this time he was away doing his masters degree in Engineering in some cave’s of the Himalayas. He had a younger brother who recently received his driver’s license. So my next plan is to hijack the Bullet and have it for the next 20-25 days..Buhahaha..!!!

Calls up his father, my uncle. I say ‘My Bahrain trip is finalized’...

‘Congrats!’

Need the Bullet for 25 days . He hesitates, but alas he can’t deny me. OK is the answer.

My cousin’s house is 125 kilometers far from my place. Nothing big. I stayed in a village and he, in a city.

NO …you can’t do this, my parents, as if I am going for an underworld operation. They know that they don’t stand a chance to stop me. My father easily gives up, he is not going to listen and I am not going to waste my energy. My mother, no chance, she would try till the end.

So two days from then, I am at their door steps.

‘There is no insurance…!’ his father,

‘I will get one, no worries’. He understands I'm not going back empty handed, and then its three motorbikes, my younger cousin brother riding the bullet, I am the pillion. His dad on his smaller motorbike. We are at the insurance place getting the insurance done.

DONE…The motorbike is insured from today midnight, or tomorrow morning said his younger brother with a happy tone. It’s been a year the owner of the Bullet aka my dumba$ cousin had not insured the bike.

‘Careful Boy! The insurance is not valid for this trip’ My uncle
Ok

I ride back to my place…


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My Heart Beats THUMP …THUMP…THUMP!!! – The onward journey:

Now it’s important that I need to describe the Bullet. The bullet is no ordinary motorbike. When my younger cousin handed over the keys to me, I didn’t even know how to ride this bike properly.

From the kick starting, to the gear shifts to the clutch release to the throttling this bike is different. All I have done is started this bike couple of times and then driven it for a km or so.

The design of the bike reminds me of my childhood. My parents tell me to do something and I end up doing the opposite of what is told. Likewise the bullet had exactly opposite design as compared to the universally followed system. Gears on the right, brakes on the left. The gear shift pattern also exactly different from the normal ones.

My mantra for starting this bike for any condition was simple. Push the decomp switch on the left hand side. Push the kicker lever to bring the amp meter to zero. Release the switch when the amp meter is at 0 position. Kick it gently and the Bullet roars to life. As simple as that, ahem ahem, or not. The amp meter up of down, forget your right leg or even if the amp meter is in 0, and if the Bullet feels bitchy then again forget your right leg.

So I start my journey, as per the advice of my uncle (my parents have been saying it from age of 14), Go slow. As fast as 50-60 kmph. It was not the normal me driving, but makes sense. New motorbike, new riding styles and needed getting used to. The first 10kms the bike behaved like an unforgiving b*tch. Next 10kms, same sh*t.

This feels unfortunate. Even as a teenager, my first crash came up at a 100kmph. The Bullet cruising steadily with a constant thump and I nodding my head up and down, right and left to keep me away from boredom and sleep.

It’s unsafe to ride a bullet above 60kmph for a extended period as it could cause overheating, then oil leakages etc. Impressive! Isn't it? I could see lads half my age overtaking me on their mountain bikes..Ha Ha Ha

I stop by, its noon, I have driven a lot. 2.5 hrs and I have covered some odd 60 kms or a little more than that. Having lunch from a roadside hotel, I with the intention of resuming my journey try to start the Bull…et....

PHAAT...
What the hell was that ?

Oh I see my kicker lever hanging towards the ground, like a compass needle showing north. Am I scared?

No ..Not at all. I know it’s the kicker spring failing. Cost of the spring 30rupees. Labour 70 rupees.Buhahaha…That leaves me with 7400rupees. I couldn’t care less.

I take it to the next garage, “ No spares saarr!!!”

Wokay.

I am doing it at my place. I get a tie wire from the garage, kick start the bike and tie the compass needle to the frame. Kicker back in position and I leave. Again hitting the high speeds of 60 kmph.

I ride back to my place again…



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My Heart Beats THUMP …THUMP…THUMP!!! – The fall and rise:

I now feel that I have got a good hang of the bullet. Feels like I have tamed the beast, mastered the art of riding the bullet. Yeyeyey!!! Feels like I’m on top of the world. I feel the slight breeze on my hands, I see trees passing by and my mind is free of all the worldly tensions. Far I see a small road joining the main road. No vehicles as of now.

I am towards the left of the road, leaving enough gap for the cyclists/ pedestrians. I am supposed to carry on straight for at least 40 kms.

When I was approximately 50mtrs away from the intersection, I see a car, a small hatch back ( Suzuki Alto ) coming. I don’t care, I ride a Bullet.

In the ideal world, that car is supposed to stop and let the vehicle travelling on the main road pass by.

I still hang on the throttle. As I reach as close as 15-10mtrs, the driver decides that this world is far from ideal, it’s not perfect, screw the rules, I am not waiting for anyone.

He is on the main road.

Holy Mother of Gods! I am too close and my legs don’t react as its not sure which is the brake ( I usually keep telling in my mind that left is the brake, but not when needed. Stupid me.). Screw the brakes, I tackle right to avoid hitting and I succeed.


SCREEEEEECCHHH…KREEENNNN…


'Oh..What the hell just happened!'

I am still on the bike and the bike is still moving. My motorbike swayed right and left for a second or two, I could see a blue car passing close by me. Very Very close. I had no chance to apply brakes and stop the Bullet behind the car that wrongly entered. Bullet’s a heavy thing and brakes suck big time.

My bike has hit the blue car which swayed my bike and developed a dent and a scratch on…obviously the car. The Bullet still like a raging bull, questioning me, “ Did someone try to mess with me?” And I was like, “ The owner’s definitely gonna mess with me!”

The insurance not valid thing runs in my mind. I am so screwed. I am screwed big time. I should have listened to the elders (what a though). Why not run away from here?? But brains take over emotions quickly. I stay back, to face whatever it is.

The owner comes and furiously says, “Come on, let’s go to the cops, register a case. I know the deputy there”. He was in his mid 30s, he had his wife taking pics of my bike all over. Bullet must have felt like its walking the red carpet. His Mother in law faintly telling, these bikers are a pain in the hole.

No I chose not to reply to that. No chance.

I am so screwed. If I go to the cops, I could be in jail or minimum of a case would be registered against me. I had to fly abroad in a month. The biggest concern is, all these won’t stop in 7400 rupees. Thoughts drained me. The other car guy was long time gone or else I could have made him pay for his mistake. Now it’s just me, the bike and the mess we created.

I am not taking this anymore. I am calling for help.

I call up my uncle again. “ ello….You reached safely?”

“I crashed!!!”


What the ….?

I scratched somebody’s car. But the bike is safe, not a single scratch on it.

He was fuming. I could feel the heat. He said he would call me back soon and hangs up.

I’m depressed. I know now there is no chance. I follow that guy to the police station. As I turn my bike to enter the Police station, I get a call back.

It’s my uncle and he asks me to enter into an unofficial settlement. Since I was in no position to talk sane, I give away the phone to that guy. They speak to each other, I am not bothered, whatever…

The owner of the car hangs up the phone and hands it to me back. You may go, I will send my bank details and Account number, and you can pay me after I get the quote from the showroom.

I nod, put my mobile phone back in place and leave. I run back to the bike, remove the tie wire and start the bike. The bike, as cool as ever, starts with a thump as if it's questioning me, “No more rest? Are we leaving?”

I ride back to my place again…

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My Heart Beats THUMP …THUMP…THUMP!!! – Something went wrong:


I take the bike to the next garage. I needed to fix the kicker lever. I am sure that the motorbike would undergo an inspection at my place. I buy him the kicker spring and in an hour I am off again.

15 kilometers ahead, I keep going and when I go a bit right again, a blue car just couple of centimeters away pass me from my right. Thank my stars. I stop the bike towards the side. Sit on the pavement for couple of minute. I could see the headlight of the Bullet towards me, ‘You can’t son! You can’t!’, such was the look.

I seriously think what went wrong. Never has this happened to me in all these years. I tried analyzing.

All I could think of was I was driving slowly and sedate, not much in my style. Indian roads demanded Might. Eureka!!!! There I am with a solution.

I wait for 10 minutes for the bike to cool down. I kick start the bike again with a new vibe.

“Who’s the daddy now?” Buahahaha...

I ride back to my place again…






(to be contd.)

A TRIBUTE

I rarely used to read newspaper or my textbooks, but I loved reading stories. Short or long never mattered. One such interesting narration goes like this:

Once there were 10 kids playing on railway tracks. Imagine each and every one knew what they were doing. Nine of them playing on live track and there was this one kid who was playing on the dummy track to the extreme. Suddenly a train comes (just imagine it comes), and it is impossible to stop the train as it has reached very near. As a railway authority or a guard what would you do? From a normal perspective, any person would say that I would route the trains track to the dummy one and sacrifice that single life to save the other nine lives. Fair enough! But what wrong did that kid do? The kid knew that it’s unsafe to play on live track and hence it was using the dummy track. While the other nine kids, even after having the knowledge used the live track. Doesn’t that one kid deserve to live?

( I am recollecting it from my faint memory so wordings may differ)

Great piece of thought put in by the author.

 This is in reference to the recent happenings in my home country, India. The image of Indian men has taken a beating. Parents have long started advising their daughter to not even look at strangers, leave talking. The condition is so bad that we (men)have lost it and the entire globe knows about it. The happenings, government taking actions and other blah’s are altogether a different ball game. Let’s not go into that.

My intentions are simple.

 I intend to pay tribute to the selfless and good men out there. They might not account more than 10-15% of the entire male population. They include people who work hard to feed their family, who show courage to protect the women and stand up against the bad, those who take care of their family needs, those who save majority of their earnings for the good of human beings. They are the people who define MEN. Imagine those men, who clean the glasses of Burj Khalifa or Burj Al Arab (world’s tallest building). I doubt whether they take this risk only for them or also for their families behind.

 Whenever I see women complaining that, they can’t find any good men around (or vice versa), I always think to myself that these women will never be able to find such men. These minority group of good men may not carry i-phone, branded shoes or costly cars. And seldom does a woman notice a man without fancy stuff. Again I’m leaving that topic for future discussions.

 I would like to pay my tribute to all such people. People, who work outside, run around to make some money, who stay away extended years from their families to earn and feed, those who respect other beings. Such people though less in quantity, needs to be respected. I’m going to end this with another real life incident which happened to my friend.

My friend was once invited in a party and he had a group of friends along. The party went on till late night. The number of people started reducing. He noticed that one of his colleague (female) got really high and was in no position  to drive her car back home. He not only helped her reach home, but also made sure that someone responsible from her family had taken note of the situation. As he narrated this incident, I had already congratulated him from my heart for a great deed. 

 Great work brother. But I am sorry because probably you will be one of those children who will be killed while playing on a dummy track, in order to save the other plenty lives playing on live track.

REACHING THE HORIZON

“Uff…I m so tired!!! Need a break. I am exhausted…” As I murmur these words to myself, I know that I cannot afford to take a break which I really need.  Well, I wish I could at least say to myself “Just go and get some sleep buddy. You are gonna be just fine”. I am afraid that this tiredness is more mental than physical.

            My shoulders are stooping due to the burden of Loan EMI’s, Paybacks, rents, various bills that I have accumulated. Life has started revolving around one mean non-living thing which dictates. It has the power to break or make relations, make us God and much more. “MONEY – The more you have it, the better “

            I have lost a fair share of my youth running behind money, doing something just for sake of getting paid. I don’t know till when I am going to continue with this ‘crime towards myself’.  Many would ask me it’s not even a decade you have started working or neither have you any third world problems like “I cannot buy food because I have no money. Then why should you be tired?” I still can’t figure out an answer to these questions. But all I know is I am exhausted running this race. The competition is with my family, my known ones, the society and finally me. The factors like my ‘Parents expectations’,   ‘Run for social status to get a fair treatment among them’ and finally some expectations that I have of myself. 
             One thing that this rectangular piece of paper has achieved throughout these years is that it can buy you almost everything. Few things that stand excluded from this list for me shall be some experiences like meeting a good pal after two decades or going back to the school after a long time with our school mates. Apart from some simple joys, Money can buy almost everything in life, may it be a super car or a super model girlfriend (or vice-versa). As an icing on the cake, it can keep you away from troubles like cops, law and whatever. Isn't that enough for people like you and me to give their lives for this piece of paper?   

            Life without money would have been much complicated I guess. People of same financial status, major barrier removed between people and as a matter of fact between countries. Life would have been easier. But in defense, I could say that everyone would have been lazy and doing nothing big. I need to respect the fact that the world is in this form because of the race for money. We have forgotten to respect our feelings, learnt to kill our emotions, learnt to give excuses to our families and near-ones, differentiate people based on their financial capability to achieve great excellence in technology, build a newer and never before world which looks near perfect, inventions and discoveries that challenge the Lord himself. I am still unsure whether to praise all these achievements or hurl abuses at them.

            As a normal being, my needs and wants are also endless. They never seem to meet satisfaction. I have a weird feeling that these two are like day and night, they are not meant to meet each other. The more the money I earn, the more are my wants. In short, I can see the horizon called satisfaction from the shore I am standing. What separates me from the horizon is a distant water body which consists of never ending needs, wants, expectations etc. The day I reach the destination horizon is the day I give rest to my tired body, mind and soul. But personally I know no one who has reached this destination.

            While I compile this, I remember that I need to get some sleep before I rejoin work tomorrow. As long as the roar of V8 and V12 engines excites me, the mere sight of Super bikes raise my heartbeats and makes my knees tremble and go weak and travel bug that keeps biting me often, I am sure I will carry on cheating myself but just with a wholehearted prayer that My Lord will soon reach me to my HORIZON.

credits and courtesy to : Anonymous