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...
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