Section 2: The Journey > Chapter 1: The Send-off

Facebook update:   Hitting the road.... Now!!!
29 May at 20:23 via Text message

I'm all nerves not to mention, but I will mention, late to get to the rendezvous point. A million times through the essentials checklist, and I still have that uneasy feeling that I'm forgetting something; something...essential. But there's no time to speculate on what it might be. I was to be at Fountain Hotel, situated at the crossroads of Ghodbunder Road from Mira Road, Ghodbunder Road to Thane and the Mumbai-Ahmedabad Highway (NH 8), at half past eight. It's way past the half past.

As I weave my way through the streets of Mumbai, traffic begins to squeeze in, decelerating my progress. It's as if Mumbai is holding me back in it's cradle. Its as if she knows that my journey into faraway lands will convince me that its better out there; make me consider the possibility to never return. Its a possibility I have yet to consider on the 29th day of May. Its a possibility I will consider several times in the days to follow. For now, all the city offers me is a strange sense of detachment and anguish. I'm just a stranger passing through. An abandoned child gone rogue.

I nervously wait at every red. Weary drivers offer curious looks. Fully armoured in the sweltering heat - jacket, gloves, knee pads, army boots - a looming tail bag on the pillion for added effect.

Thirty ticks on the minute hand; Fountain. A brief scan of the area - a family on the left, thirty odd individuals on the right but not what I'm looking for - a small group of bikers - two, no more than three. I reason that not many would be interested in seeing us off. Its no big deal them anyway. A wave from the more than thirty, and I stand corrected. Some familiar faces, most unfamiliar. Each one carrying a glow of anticipation and excitement, one that's reciprocated wholeheartedly.

The wait for Motorbreath aka Swapnil Jadhav and Spiderweb aka Rohit Chourasia begins. The two are to take the journey with me. We don't have to wait long for Motorbreath. For Spiderweb, we must wait till half past ten for last minute complications delay his departure.  The wait is glossed over by introductions, handshakes, casual chats, last minute advice by experienced long-distance riders. One unfamiliar hand I shake that day belongs to an individual, Raman Mishra, who will, through twists of fate, join us in the days to come and be an integral part of our adventures.

Sighs of relief as Spiderweb makes his way into Fountain. We were all eager to get started or get departed. Pictures, re-fastening bags, fireworks - for a wedding nearby - assumed to be our own, more last minute advice and we are all set to go. A trip to the restaurant to get a bottle of water and it dawns on me that the essential I've forgotten is cash. I have only my card with not an ATM in sight. Cash borrowed, hugs exchanged and its time.

For the past several years I perceived my life as headed in reverse. For every step I took forwards, the clock struck backwards. For every footprint I made, the sands of time erased - eradicating every evidence of progress.

But that day, at that time, as the three of us rode out of Fountain, the clock did something unexpected. It struck clockwise...

Section 2: The Journey > Prologue

I plead insanity. For insane is just about the only way to describe the experience that unfolded between the 29th day of May and the 26th day of June, 2010.

Not so long ago I wrote...

"Why pen down the anticipation, the possible journey or the disappointment, the experiences beyond? To share with those before me? But they've already experienced it. I'll only be telling them what they already know. To share with those after me? But they'll experience it some day. I'll probably be ruining their surprise. To share with those that never will? If they did not care enough to experience it themselves, will they really care about my perspective on it?"

I was wrong on every count.

Those that went before us followed our travels the closest; sensing our excitement, our joy, our disappointments, our jubilation, reliving their past, making promises for a future return. Only some of those promises will be fulfilled.

Those that will go after us looked to our travels as an approximation of their own future adventures. Is it worth it? Can WE do it too? To which I say - give it a whirl for I do not know the answer. Your experience will be distinct from mine, for Nature can and will find ways to surprise you. Its usually kind.

As for those that probably never will attempt this journey, those that are not bikers, those that have no inclination to be - it was from them I received the most adulation. Little did I know my journey would strike the fancy of so many, so dear. Little did I know that I would receive emails, SMSes, PMs requesting...no...demanding more information on my whereabouts, my adventures, my day of return. Little did I know that what I thought was a personal journey, meant so much to so many. Little did I know that apart from the one who expressed his desire to live through me, many more rode with me in spirit.

I dedicate my journey to you all.

A close friend recently wrote:

"how r u? been following ur amazin trip to leh n back. it seems like a trip of a lifetime! do u thing u have changed as a person becoz of it? had any epiphanies?... v."

The answer... I do not know yet. For in the course of this journey, there was way too much to take in, very little time to process it. Much has yet to sink in. And in committing my memories to digital ink, I hope to discover the new me... if indeed one exists. I believe readers who know my beat will be the first to spot the change if any, long before I do.

We view the world through the perspective of our individual lenses. I began my journey looking through a glass that was foggy from a persistent search for relevance, cracked by the loss of my father 2 years ago, twisted by misleading words that masked actions unfair, insensitive, inhuman, marred by lies. I do not know what has changed. But I do know that I have a new lens now. A new perspective. What it shows I do not comprehend. Discover I will, bit by bit, as I recount the 28 days that changed it all.