Magic or science - Friendship?

How do you explain the science of relationships and how they take hold of you…how do you explain spending one year and being friends for life and spending years together and still staying strangers? 

A groups of friends, we called ourselves SVADPAL. That like you must have guessed stood for the first letter of each of our names (we were freshly minted college-goers!). We were a group of seven girls, we spent one year together and since then have met every year all thanks to the one ‘S’. But every time we meet it’s like nothing has changed…all the years, the families, the responsibilities, the maturity…all fall away.

Today was one such day. Not all seven of us could meet cause many of us are spread across and don’t all live in the same city, but three of us caught up to celebrate ‘L’s birthday. From the moment we met till the time we bid our goodbyes we laughed and laughed and laughed, like we hadn’t laughed for many years. 

What is it about college friends that let you be who you are? No pretenses, no half-truths and whole lies, just plain you. There is nothing you can’t tell each other, there is nothing that is taboo. We don’t judge we don’t dwell, we laugh at our travails and take inspiration from each of our life’s paths. Our follies, our adventures and misadventures…all just fodder for more togetherness…from stomach grasping laughter to bawling and then laughter again…all emotions visited in the span of a few minutes and even seconds.   

We were a group of seven that nobody messed with. We bunked classes, we got into fights with everybody else, we consoled each other, we got thrown out of classes and suspended, we dated and laughed at each other’s boyfriends…we did it all. Today after many years, it is all the same, we still laugh at husbands and kids and the many complexities that that brings with it. We walk out and even the boys react the same! We are different people, but time stays suspended when we spend time with each other…how does this work really? 

What is that source of truth that such relationships feed on? What is that magic that gets created when you are least expecting it? How can 200 days or thereabouts spent together mean so much more than several decades spent with others?

Whatever the magic or the science behind this is…I am thankful and grateful for such relationships. Life has so much more meaning cause of these bonds that exist. Life is richer, more fuller somehow.  And I wish that every one of you has such experiences in life and is blessed with something like this.

I’m listening in, if you’d like to share…

Cauterization

Another wound created, another day lived,
Another experience learnt, another scar to bear
Another wound to heal, another lesson learnt
Another cauterization.

But this well of emotions doesn't seem to seem to run dry,
And I don't understand why.

Shouldn't cauterization stem the flow
Shouldn't it dull the pain
Shouldn't it prevent the bleed
Shouldn't it burn away?

Emotions once known to be dead, buried and gone,
How then do they continue...their existence?
No control seem to have I
What and how do I tell these emotions of mine
Feel no more and wither away?

IBR - Ride on (Rider Mania, Goa'14)

Chivalry is dead. Bikers are a crude and rude bunch. The value system of the people of today is eroding.

These and many more such “paradigms” were destroyed, re-written and re-defined on a Thursday, November 20, 2014 on my meeting with the men from India Bull Riders or IBR as they are fondly called. 

The story starts thus; three of us women riders decided to attend Rider Mania’2014 in Goa. Initially this group was much larger but as the journey dawned, the group whittled to us three souls who were willing to brave the 600 km+ ride (one-way). We then decided to not do it by ourselves cause its always about the journey and a journey is so much more nicer in a large and fun group

.

In stepped one of the female riders, let’s call her ‘K’ who suggested that we ride with the IBR gang. Now, to be honest, this is not a group I had heard off before or perhaps I did and I wasn't too interested…so I had no clue, what to expect. The three of us however decided to go ahead and ride with this bunch and they kindly agreed to include us in their ride plans. (Most long distance riders are very picky about who they ride with, cause the wrong company can absolutely kill your joy and sanity on a tasking journey.)

And from here on the journey took an interesting turn. Oh and I say journey cause in our heads, once the plans are made the journey is underway already, the actual act of getting on the road is just one step in the process. So, ‘K’ first sends me a message from IBR's ride captain. What was it? A link to a google doc with (ahem…clear throat) some meeting notes with minutes of the meeting and job allocation by riders. Yeah yeah I will explain better. So this link contained information on a meeting that was held earlier sometime, where this group had met up to discuss ride plans. In these rides plans decisions are made about who will run point who will sweep who will be the marshal, who will carry what other responsibilities. Responsibilities include first aid kit, spares and tyres and other assorted stuff that goes a long way in ensuring that the ride is pleasurable one, rather than an arduous task. This doc contained very precise instructions on the meeting points, the timing, what needs to be carried by whom…et all. Honestly this in itself should’ve given me an inkling of what to expect, for I am sure even organizations can take a leaf out of this particular club and their preparedness, their preciseness and how everything is planned and thought about to the last minute detail. This should have told me about their discipline and the thought process that goes into everything. This is a special group.

So on the day of the ride we assemble at 4.00 am, quick introductions are made and we get on the road. A total of 14 bikes make up our entourage, and this includes our three bikes as well.  We ride fast and we ride hard. And then some hand signals happen…and all of a sudden all of the bikes move as one. It is synchronicity at its best. Imagine this, the ride captain running point lifts up his index finger pointing to the heavens and every single bike coalesces into a single file. I've been part of dance troupes, and I know the level of practice taken to achieve this kind of synchronicity, and you know that you are part of a magical experience when total strangers come together to achieve that synchrony. Every rider quickly loses his or her individuality and the entire troupe lives and breathes as one big machine forming patterns on the road that is both graceful, powerful and awe inspiring. A bunch of hand signals happen. Again initiated by the ride captain leading the group, this time two fingers go up – in a victory sign of sorts and the group splits into two lanes. This formation increases the speed of  the group and swallows every vehicle on the road moving to the left and right, swallowing trucks, cars and bikes caught in its wake and spitting them out at the end of the train.

You know you are experiencing something beautiful and amazing when most adult on the road have their mouths open and eyes widened and every child waves, claps and has a grin splitting their faces. All of this discipline means that we make such amazing time that we are then ahead of schedule and can afford more breaks than what was initially planned for…yup…breaks are planned for too, except ofcourse for those that make no announcements such as break downs or loss of bladder control!

The entire speed of the group is maintained by the ride captain who periodically gives instructions with an upward wave of a hand - increase speed, a downward wave of the hand - decrease speed, point to the road - pothole, indicate a line on the road - a speed breaker. Each one looks out for the other.

It didn't matter, who we are, where we came from, what our background was and the fact that several in the group are total strangers, we were part of something that was bigger than us. We were part of an experience that bound us from a place that defies logic, we all understood each other perfectly, we watched out for each other, we laughed and shared moments of joy and drew strength and inspiration from each other. There were no facades, there were no pretentions, we were just a bunch of riders riding to a common destination on machines that had a strong commonality – the BULLET. I am not sure if the machine chooses the man or the man chooses the machine for the styling of the machine is reflected in the owner of the machine.

Total strangers, who turned out to be exceptional gentlemen, never underestimating us as women, and never over indulging us cause we were women. We were riders and every rider irrespective of his or her gender deserved respect cause the machine we ride demands respect. No man or woman astride this machine can deny that call to give and get respect in equal measure. This group embodied and epitomized those values. This group of men I am proud to say I rode with and am associated with and I thank this group of men for keeping alive those values that separate the chaff from the seed and for being more than men and reclaiming the term ‘Gentlemen’.

Cheers IBR.