May 30th
When I digressed last, Motorbreath wasn't in my viewport. Few seconds out, and there he is, a red-black spec of flesh and metal riding into my view horizon. As he pulls alongside me, he gestures indicating his steed cannot cope with speeds beyond a 110kmph. He rides ahead to demonstrate. With full throttle, and me tailing closely behind, he blasts off into the ether once more. And no sooner does my speedometer register a 110, sure enough, his steed starts stalling. To further impress his point, Motorbreath crouches over to minimize drag. Nope; his speedo stays defiantly at 1-1-0. I notice one additional problem. His silencer is quivering, hanging precariously from the steed as an extraneous limb. Motorbreath is more than aware of the problem; for through the remainder of our journey, his worn-out tyres and broken silencer cause him, and us, a great deal of anxiety.
As the six lane highway dissolves into a one lane with two-way traffic, three digit speeds become a luxury. Thankfully, the tarmac seems to be in mint condition - a welcome respite in otherwise aggravating riding conditions. Aggravating, for vehicle discipline is vastly undermined on one lanes. Oncoming vehicles plagiarizing our space, pushing us into extremities of the tarmac in a bid to shave off a few minutes from what is possibly their daily commute and doing so with an apologetic smile as if to say, "I'm sorry I'm nearly trying to kill you; but 5 minutes of my time are perhaps more precious then the lifetime that lays ahead of you. Sorry again. Don't be a stranger now! I'll screw you again soon.". The absurdity is not restricted to one lane. It translates equally well into 2, 4 and 6. Even dividers don't prevent some from attempting murder on our side of the tardom. We frequently encounter these smiling serial killers on motor heading directly toward us on a corner in the middle of a cornering lean, only to have to shift our weight, redirect the machine's momentum and steer clear of Dhansukhbhai and family. But I'm getting ahead of the story here...
Aggravating or not, our progress is tempered. For once, I get my chance to give Gujarat the eye. And while I'm painfully aware that whatever little is offered up by the NH8 through the window of my hardhat is not representative of Gujarat in all its glory, I'm blessed to have a flavour of its experience. For I have been here before; when I was just a boy. The memories have since faded; those that stood beside me then, stand beside me no more. Them I remember in this moment.
Maybe its just me but I notice a certain softness to the nature of Nature in Gujarat; a quiet contradiction to the raw spirit of Maharashtra. Paddy fields run alongside for miles. Parrot green rickshaws with yellow hats carrying at least 15 passengers; all you see of them are their heads - like a bouquet of human faces wrapped neatly in steel.
I see faces; each one with a story of his or her own. The young offer a look of bewilderment and excitement over our outlandish appearance; the middle-aged, quiet smiles and glances, often looking away as if to catch a dream of their own; the old - a glazed look of anguish and indifference. Of course I generalize. For there is evidence of indifference in youth and of dream-catchers without pearly whites.
Our journey seems to be progressing at discernible pace; no nasty surprises so far except for one.
Facebook update: Bee splattered on motors helmet n left big foul stench!
30 May at 07:10 via Text message
Winsey Varghese
lol :P
thats normal ;)
30 May at 12:04
Leena Sabharwal
u got any honey ??!!
30 May at 21:38
Dinesh Samtani
LOL!!!!!!!
31 May at 01:48
and moments later...
Facebook update: 425km @vasad!
30 May at 07:17 via Text message
-Rajni Taneja-
Nice Nice...
Ride safe N keep updating!
30 May at 12:11
Dinesh Samtani
awesome!!!
30 May at 17:39
Gopinath Venugopal
i hope the update ka josh stays through the whole trip....take care
30 May at 21:28
"We'll get our forty winks in Ahmedabad, elude the merciless sun", I think to myself. So far it has chosen to hide behind the clouds and revel in our fear. We still have some way to go before we rendezvous with the Big-A.
A peacock spotting by Spiderweb gives us an excuse to take a break, rest our backs, hydrate ourselves. As we hop back onto our steeds, Motorbreath hollers out to us. There's a puddle of liquid underneath his machine. We hope to God its just a minor oil spill. But on close inspection, the unmistakable smell of petrol convinces us that God wasn't listening.
Facebook update: Motors bike leaking petrol in drips! Trying to figure out COL.
30 May at 09:30 via Text message
(COL = Cause of Leak; which I derived from COD = Cause of Death (CSI). I thought it was clever at the time.)
We need to find the cause and fix it before his fuel runs out.
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