It's half past noon and the trip meter proudly announces five hundred and thirty. "Gandhinagar", the waiter replies to our now obvious query - one which we were obligated to ask for Spiderweb's phone, in a bid to emulate mine, has given in to low battery as well - taking with it our trusty Google Latitude. Hot paneer masala, dal tadka and rotis mingled with a warm "Yes" to our request to charge our phones makes for a sumptuous meal.
Facebook update: In Gandhinagar. 530km on the speedo!
30 May at 12:32 via Text message
Winsey Varghese
nice nice
30 May at 12:50
Vikram Pathak
Wow !! U r moving quick !!
30 May at 12:52
Dinesh Samtani
woah...nice
30 May at 17:41
We rest our bodies as our steeds bask in the afternoon sun. "We may as well look for a lodge now; we have ridden far and fast enough.", we all think in unison.
With re-charged bodies and phones and fire in our bellies, literally and figuratively, we thrust forwards. We don't get far; for the bites we bit not long ago, combined with a night-long journey have brought on the delirium of slumber in no uncertain guise. I can barely make sense of the road ahead. Each rev is a mistake for I am not worthy of the tarmac beneath me in this state of mind. There is not a lodge in sight. Fortunately, I am not alone. Indicators go off once more and Spiderweb pulls over; parks his bike, folds his jacket and lays down on a slope of mud and stone. That's my cue; its time for a power nap for we can't continue no more. I lay down too. Motorbreath though, insists that he wants a comfortable bed to sleep in. He will wait for us to find a lodge. Little does he, nor we know that we won't find a lodge for seven hours and then some, a total in excess of 20 hours into our journey. And lest you forget, he did not sleep the night before for he was doing a night-shift that lasted till noon. The rest of the day flew by in making last minute preparations for our sojourn. But he is adamant. He needs a bed. Mud and rocks just won't do. There are self-evident consequences of that decision.
As we reacquaint ourselves with the denizens of the dreamworld, Motorbreath captures moments and material using my lenses. The results are more than gratifying, in my not-so professional opinion.
Facebook update: Power nap at 550 kms on the side of the highway.
30 May at 13:32 via Text message
Koustubh Shenai
R u at the dhaba tht has awesome paratha's. Where spidy usually finds his cousins, more real spiders.
30 May at 14:13
Awakened by Motorbreath an hour into our slumber, we rev on. Spiderweb's exceptional riding skills save many lives that day - for 3 power slides and many close calls later, it is apparent that the denizens of the National Highway are out to get us. If it were me in the lead, every bird brain that made a bee-line perpendicular to the highway with no regards to our metal hurtling towards them at three digit speeds would be having conversations with God as we speak. They would not live for I am not gifted enough to predict and prevent the consequences of their love for stupidity. For I am not their maker, but I would most certainly meet them, metal to metal, bone to bone.
As evening greets us, Motorbreath's restless anatomy has begun to give in to the fatigue. And while I do not claim to understand his exact state of mind, previous experiences with sleep deprivation allow me to estimate his quandary. For an overpowering desire to snooze coupled with the necessity of staying focused on the road puts the mind in a bind. It struggles to distinguish between thoughts that are sourced through the subconscious dream state and thoughts that emanate from the surrounding state of reality. Subtle shifts in shadows brought on by the environment - rustling trees, floating clouds, constructions on the highway side sliding by - are mistaken to be movements on the tarmac - signaling the possibility of an approaching vehicle. I have often found myself changing lanes in order to prevent collision with these phantom contraptions. As for real metal, capable of slicing through flesh and bone like butter through knife, zipping inches past me has seldom spawned a sense of any real danger in me. It's like being thrown into the world of virtual reality wherein I might crash and burn and watch them sparks fly, but as with everything else, my mind assumes, incorrectly, that the hurt will be virtual too. A few negative points at best. Needless to say, its a dangerous state of mind and metal, unworthy of movement. And yet, Motorbreath hasn't a choice. For he still refuses to rest his brow. A warm Red Bull shared between us and once more, we ride on, trying to play catch with Spiderweb who has informed us not 10 minutes ago that he is 15 minutes away from our site. His phone is since offline.
Once more, I have failed to notice our entry to Rajasthan. I will fail to notice a lot more in the hours to come. But I do notice Spiderweb, waiting for us, just round the bend, near a temple it would seem. We are handed small sachets of water for a buck a piece by little boys intrigued by us. We've grown accustomed to the questions now.
"Bike kitne ka hai?" (How much does the bike cost?)
"Kitna mileage hai iska?" (How many kilometers does the bike run on one liter of fuel?)
"Yamaha toh bahut daudti hai." (The Yamaha runs really fast)
I would answer their questions honestly. Motorbreath though would, for his own amusement, double the price and halve the mileage just to see the look on their faces. The looks were hilarious I must say. I am guilty of doing the same in future adventures.
Spiderweb buys 10 sachets of water and stuffs them in his saddles. Ludicrously wasteful; we won't need so many, I think to myself. We finish the packets within the hour - some consumed, some poured over our scorching heads.
The road ahead is a divine blend of smooth curves and leveled tar. We hit them curves with all the adrenalin we've got. For many moments, as we twist and bend over the corners, all fatigue is forgotten. But as we stop for a brief snack and scout around for lodging, I realize quickly that my mind and body have given up the battle many revs ago. Only the adrenalin is keeping me upright. For I now struggle to breathe in the arid Rajasthan air. Just a little bit further... we're almost there.
Facebook update: 66kms away from udaipur rite now. Slow safe pace at the moment.
30 May at 17:11 via Text message
Sagar Raikar, Choudhari Rohit, Anil Correa, Gopinath PS, Samardeep Singh and Anirudh Khusape like this.
Dinesh Samtani
Nice!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So you guys finally reach Udaipur!!!!!
30 May at 17:42
Satyen Poojary
Good! Stop and rest, if you feel enthu enough stretch max to ajmer. (Cheaper, and tomos ride would be a breeze!
30 May at 18:04
Anirudh Khusape
Thats awesome ... take rest.. keep us updated..
30 May at 19:25
Gopinath PS
awesomeee!
30 May at 21:52
Sujan Shetty
awesomeee dude
31 May at 03:15
Sagar Raikar
alll the best people.....
31 May at 12:01
As we big adieu to NH8, we get sucked into dirt tracks and traffic jams. Curse our luck for I do not want to ride no more. A brief stop for directions. A quick click.
After much trial and tribulation we find lodging at Rs 600/- with an additional penalty of Rs 100/- for being three instead of the two. More paneer masala and dal tadka - this time in a different State. A vote on Rajasthan vs Gujarat. Gujarat wins for their superior dal tadka. Not a fair and rational contest, but one experiences a strange sense of power while writing off entire States for their inferior dal tadka.
As I shower that evening, heat trapped in my body underneath the thick protective layers seeths through my skin following its path down thermodynamics. I feel it radiate out of my body. I lose heat quickly as I begin to shiver violently and uncontrollably. I feel weak; I feel old. Questions, some sane, some insane begin to creep into the crevices of my now broken mind. Will I be able to sustain the rest of the journey? What if my body breaks down somewhere along the way? Will I be able to live with myself? What of my life that I left behind? Will it await me on my return? Do I wish to return?
Exhaustion has broken me down. I do not want to think no more, for the thoughts I think aren't worthy of thought. By the time I exit, I'm exhausted physically, mentally, spiritually. I ache at my very core. And as I watch them both make frantic phone calls to loved ones, I miss not having to miss. For I miss no one; none I can call anyway.
As I take the floor, its still early, but I'm beat. I manage to pound out one last update for the day and its lights out for me.
Facebook update: Updaipur. Dinner, rest, then the rest :-) 782km on speedo. Gnite!
30 May at 19:42 via Text message
Deepak Vadhani
GREAT GOING GUYS....................
31 May at 08:20
Gopinath PS
great stuff!
31 May at 09:32
I wake up several times that night; my exhausted mind causing me to talk...nay...yell in my sleep. I do not know what I say but fear that I might awaken the two. I look up onto the bed. They are as oblivious to the world as I.
The following morning will see a ritual that is to be repeated every sunrise from that day on. Spiderweb's phone alarm goes off at the predictable hour of 6am.
Spiderweb: Motor....motor...
Motorbreath: Hmmmmm.....
Spiderweb: Uth ja... (wake up)
Motorbreath: Hmmmmm.....
And they both sink into slumber again only to awaken many hours later. I am an accomplice in this charade for I do not discourage them.
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