It's half past six since noon. Romeomike has resolved to spend time with his kin. We - Motorbreath, Spiderweb and I decide to explore just a little bit of Delhi on our own. I'll see a different side of Delhi that evening as traffic thins and the quiet resolve of structures dipped in history seeps through. They stand tall, with an air of royalty. Just as they should, for they have braved much they have braved long.
We find solace in the shadows of India Gate, spend time drinking nariyal paani, listening to tales of Spiderweb's childhood in the warm embrace of the capital. Spiderweb has insisted that we stay back, wrap our steeds and ship them to Mumbai several times today. He does not wish to leave. He shares none of our desire to return. As night falls and we stroll through the dimly lit streets, for a few moments, I wish I was in agreement with Spiderweb. But I must not be. I must finish what I started. I must ride to Mumbai.
June 24th, 2010
We intended to leave at the crack of dawn. We leave at 2:30pm. Typical.
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24 June 2010 at 14:39 via Text messageTushar Jadhav and Rachit K like this.
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Leena Sabharwal BAS KAR YAAR...COME BACK
25 June 2010 at 13:53Leena Sabharwal BAS KAR YAAR...COME BACK
The ride throws no challenges, save for one. Spiderweb complains that his steed lacks power. The assertion surprises us for we have consistently seen him touch three digits. In time though the mighty Karizma will display signs of fatigue. We will mock Spiderweb by pretending to cowl and overtake him at speeds of a mere 60kmph. His steed now sails at 50kmph. Our tomfoolery will annoy him no end for he will consistently throttle up and attempt to gain on us. But the broken steed is no match for our healthy beasts. We continue to mock him but we do not desert him. In time, the mockery will get old and we ride beside him. Spiderweb continues to lead. We let him for his steed now determines our pace.
As night falls, hunger sets in. We ask Spiderweb to halt at the next dhaba. He nods. A few kilometers out, he passes a dhaba without halting. Then another. Then another. I catch up to him and ask him why he won't stop.
"I want to eat chicken", he says. "All those were pure veg.", he adds.
And so we race from one dhaba to the next, in search of chicken and while we find some that do serve chicken, none is available at the hour we approach them. As we ride away from settlements, the frequency of dhabas starts thinning out. We are exhausted, Romeomike rides precariously close to slumber for he hasn't slept a wink the night prior. But Spiderweb shows no signs of yielding.
Frustrated, tired and hungry, we, Motorbreath, Romeomike and I, will rebel against Spiderweb's childishness and turn our steeds into the next dhaba that we find. That's it. We ride no more. Eat what we get we will. Rest we will. Ride we will only once we are rested. Spiderweb may continue his quest for chicken at his own peril.
Spiderweb will not take the mutiny lightly. He will escalate his juvenile quotient accusing Motorbreath once again for riding slow at onset of our journey. This time though Motorbreath will simply ignore the rant for much has changed we first set out. Nothing, apparently, has changed at Spiderweb's end for he will continue his rant. He will reminisce about his time with Razor, Shiva and others, claiming they would have understood his craving for chicken.
The ridiculousness of his conversation lures me into anger as I suggest he ride with his favourites the next time round and leave us the fuck alone cause we didn't want to ride with him no more. In time, we will all settle down.
The next order of business is getting the clutch plates on the Karizma replaced. We are told that we will find respite only in the whereabouts of Jaipur. And so we continue to ride on a now pitch dark and lonely highway in our quest to find a mechanic. We will in a matter of hours as the clock strikes 11:30pm. As we enter Jaipur, I will ask of the others if they wish to break for tea. They agree, except for Spiderweb who will ignore my comment and continue riding, expecting us to follow.
We don't.
We part our steeds, the three of us now, and engage in long conversations about the life back home. In time Spiderweb will call, asking me of my location. I will tell him we are where he left us. He will ask why we chose not to follow. I will reply, "Because we didn't want to." It appears he has found a mechanic a kilometer from where we now stand. We tell him we will catch up with him. We have no intention to.
Several hours later, eager to head home, we will head in his direction. His steed will take another ten minutes to spring to life. And just like that, we're back on the road. We will lose the highway and for a brief moment, will find ourselves within the embrace of Jaipur. I long to see more, but we must continue forth.
As always, we will stop for Kulfi. In a bizarre moment, Motorbreath will walk up to a kid, point a finger at him and say,
"I know what you did".
The child will burst into tears leaving Motorbreath embarrassed as he tries to console the guilty lad. Guilty of what? We might never know.
The engines roar once more and we push ahead. It's past mid-night. We have a long way to go.
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