Lonely Highway - are we ready?

Lonely Highway - are we ready?

We had a #ROTN ride last Saturday night (30^th March 2019). We had a lovely time and an uneventful ride/drive to IPC in Devanahalli. Since the venue was a distance away, our time got extended by about 30 minutes (else it is strictly 9.30-11.30 pm) resulting in us leaving the place a little after 12.00 am.

The next day was an event by 'The Bikerni' in the same area. So two of us decided to stay in a place close by and avoid the unnecessary to and fro to the city. This meant that we bid adieu to all the ROTNers and N in her car and I on my bike were the last to leave. We were trying to locate the place we were crashing in for the night and so had to stop a couple of times. On one of those stops my bike decided to stop with a tiny little fart (she’s old…so old age probs! :P).

Now it was way past 12 and N and I are alone on the Hyderabad highway a few meters from IPC. I take my bike to the extreme left and proceed to try and trouble shoot the problem as best as possible. After letting out fuel (sometimes an air lock can cause this), cleaning the spark plug and kicking to high heavens for close to 40 minutes my bike just refused to start.

Whilst all of this drama is unfolding – I am literally out of breath with all of the physical exertion from the kicking - I notice a red Maruti Celerio go past, get to the junction ahead, pull over to the left and park. The car was easily about 300-500 meters ahead. So I observed it, ignored it and continued with my kicking.

After about 10 minutes of being parked, the car starts up switches on its lights and starts to reverse to where we were standing. So all this time N is in the car and she has it running with her headlights trained on me. The moment I see this car back up I see 4 boys in this car and they kept turning and laughing amongst themselves whilst reversing towards us. 

Just the way this happened I knew in my gut that their intentions perhaps weren’t right. Now they looked like decent boys about 20-25 years who were out for a spin and a good time. I really am not sure of what their intention were at this point, but I am not taking any risk. So I quickly lock my bike walk back a few paces to N’s car. She keeps this rod – this really solid iron collapsible rod that can cause some serious damage. I open the door bend down to retrieve it. In the meanwhile N is ready to scoot or bang their car or whatever to get us out of this situation. But then something snapped in me. I bend down pick up this rod close the door, square my shoulder and march right towards this car. 

Now I can see these boys are laughing and leering at us. And I don’t know what it was – perhaps the way I approached them or perhaps the way I decided not to back out – I don’t know what  - but they revved and raced right out of there in a hurry. By then I was pumped with adrenaline and I can swear that I was prepared to do some serious damage had those boys not scooted – I know that now – but then I wasn’t thinking – I was only reacting.

Perhaps in a way not accustomed by those who think that women can be easy prey. I have trained for years to be competent, to be able to take care for myself and get myself out of sticky situations cause I enjoy my freedom, I do not like to be tethered, I do not play by the rules either society or anybody else sets and so I have invested a lot of time in training myself, my muscles, my brain to react rather than think and overthink most situations. It was perhaps this that came to my aide or perhaps it was divine intervention or my mothers prayers…I don’t know what. Whatever it was both N and I are thankful and grateful for it.

Post this incident N tells me “listen dump your bike to the side, there is just no place we can wheel it to for safekeeping for the night. So take whatever you can from it, lock it and we will come back in the morning and get it”. “So I say ok” cause I have put her through enough already and don’t want to prolong her suffering cause of my stubbornness! 
I tell her, “let me just wheel it to the junction where there is light and we will lock it there”.  So I start wheeling it there and whilst I am happily enjoying the burn in my thighs, the pain between my shoulder blades (yup, I am just being sarcy! It’s a TB 350, 12 year old bike – it’s plain heavy!), I notice a bullet with two guys on it pass by. These guys slow down when they see me push my bike and N following me right behind with her headlights absolutely focused on me (sorta like in the spotlight!).

They go a little ahead realize that maybe we need help and come back. Now the way they did it I could sense that they were genuinely there to help. So I stayed put and they come and shake my bike, check a few controls – all was right – wonder what the hell could be causing the problem, even check for fuel – all of which I had already gone through. Then the guy just sits on my bike kicks it once it doesn’t start and then kicks again, and my engines roared to life. Just like that!  I quickly thank them – keep the revs high and get out. He even gives me his card and says he is a photographer and to please remember him when we need his genre of services. I thank him profusely and leave.

We thankfully then get to our destination totally tired and aching with all of the exertion, but we make it back being mighty grateful to those guardian angles who were watching over both of us on that lonely stretch of highway where several vehicles zipped by, one stopped with not good intentions and one stopped like angels.

On that highway we saw the face of both – the good and the bad. On that highway I knew that the bad comes in numbers and the good perhaps are but a few but that’s all that is needed to make that difference. On that highway our loyalty towards each other – not dumping, the other kept us both safe. On that highway I also realized that the years I have put into training, to be strong and independent, did not go wasted – yet again. And I have a mother who didn’t hold me back being a “daughter” from getting this way but encouraged me and put me in martial arts classes – perhaps I cannot throw a perfect punch – or land that perfect kick – but I know that my mothers’ vision to enable me to learn those skill sets, the years I have stayed in touch with those skills, all came to the fore – cause I didn’t need to land that punch. I only needed the confidence to walk up and not back down. The confidence that those skills gave me. Perhaps if I had actually gotten into a tussle with them I might not have gotten out alive or unharmed. But the confidence was all that was needed on this particular occasion.

If you have had the patience to read all of this – may I request, you – please do not protect your daughter – cause at that split second when danger comes calling – she only has herself and her instincts to depend on. Provide her with every opportunity to hone those skills that will help her face her troubles head on. She is your princess – but she can be that iron hand in that velvet glove – give her the possibility to do what she wants and when she wants – but help her equip herself with the skill sets that will enable her to achieve all that her heart desires – even if it means being out at 1.00 am and facing four guys without backing down on a lonely stretch of the highway.

Life's twisties

A road full of twisties,

My life has always been.

Some turns I rushed through, 

Some I stopped to gaze.

As the ascent started,

Some descents I myself did create.

This road full of twisties,

My life it is made.

The sorrows, looming large

A fleeting momentary joy,

The scenes always changing,

Their stranglehold on me,

The road full of twisties,

My life does take.

When the journey ends,

Man nor beast can say.

This road full of twisties,

I do try to circumnavigate.

The lessons waiting to be learnt,

Some I'd love to forget.

But this road full of twisties.

Dear Lord it has somewhere got to end. 

Slipping by...

I stood on the shore,

The waves washed my feet.

The sand from under,

It did deplete.

A song they sung,

Out to my soul,

That said those grains they are a slipping,

Gently away.

Make the most of it,

They do go asunder,

Those grains of sand, they are slipping away,

Ne’er to return, ever will they.

Mesmerizing, tantalizing,

This tune, they sung,

A joy, a sorrow, a thought

In threes and fours a tune so rich.

On those shores I stood,

Those grains slipping away,

Hold still that thought.

Lest that moment, it passes away.

  

MCP's are not dead - but are a dying breed!

If you thought MCP's are dead think again...

I had spent that morning riding with men who sacrificed their sleep and their family time to be out on the roads on their bikes promoting, of all the things - Menstrual hygiene!
I had spent that morning listening to the Commissioner of Police - Praveen Sood, IPS stand up in a public forum talking about Menstruation and how it is time for the men to support the women through this very often traumatic days of the month.  

So why am I saying this???

Here is an excerpt of events as it transpired some weekends back…, (as best as I can recall since I'm still seething over it!):

Setting - helping a friend pick up a Bike that this MCP's (who is a bit elderly man at about 60 or thereabouts) son was selling. 

Wife introduces friend and me to the MCP who is her Husband. This is our first meeting with this MCP and hopefully our last. 

We have just exchanged names and nothing more…

MCP, "so you are all geared up already?". "Yes, but actually I'm not fully geared. The Riding jacket and knee guards are missing. "

MCP "whatever happened to all those good women who just ride Scooty's"

Now I'm meeting him for the first time, I thought he just had a convoluted sense of humour and I was a guest in his house so I in good humour reply, "we're helping change them and they will hopefully change soon".
MCP "humpffff"

Now all of this he delivers with a smile!.

So I go off to check the bike. 

The MCP follows and in a highly sarcastic tone - "Do you know anything about bikes"

Me "a little". He doesn’t know that I have been riding for the last 10 years and that being a woman doesn’t necessarily mean that we have no brains and that the workings of bike aren’t as sophisticated as rockets though some women have cracked that code too!. But then this is a MCP, I just hadn’t figured that out at that point in time.

His wife, knowing him, is smiling and trying to veer the conversation away from what I later on understood is dangerous territory and something this man loves to do – insult anything that is female – “our son spoke with her yesterday and he says that she knows more about this bike than he does…”. This should’ve got him to shut up…

But then the MCP can’t really hear that, he is just intent on insulting a woman who has the b***s to do what he considers is a male right – RIDE A BIKE!

Meanwhile I go about my business and check the bike out. He follows and continues with his verbal lashing. “You clearly know nothing about bikes. Why don’t you go back and come once you have learnt to ride? You can’t even reach the ground. How tall are you (he himself towers at 5.7 or thereabouts…not exactly anybody’s version of tall!)?” I continue to ignore, I am in house, I know his wife; his wife and I have met earlier and I am better brought up than this. So I continue to shut up. But my temper is beginning to rise.

I wheel the bike out of the garage and he turns to my friend, “you people should get married. Then all this stupidity will end. That’s the problem. Once you all are married you will be ok. All this rubbish will end.” (Meanwhile that idiotic smile is plastered on his face like it is all a big joke). My friend ignores and urges me to get out of there. She is whispering in my ears to get out, the wife is telling him that we can sort it and asks him to leave (all said like it is a big joke).

I am almost at the gate.

He changes his tone and says, “so what do you do?”. I tell him that I am a Market Research consultant. He goes “bah, all that is rubbish. What do you people do, take a paper and tick some boxes.” The wife in a joking manner, “anytime you want an argument you should come here…” This is directed at me. His response, “no, anytime you need some brains which you completely lack you can come here maybe you will get some.”

I am seething, it is beginning to show on my face, the MCP’s wife can see it, my friend can see it. Both are urging me to get out of there…and in my head I am going “I am better brought up…I am in his house, I don’t need to see him again…GET OUT FAST”!

I get out of there seething, I am shaking with anger – all of those insults cause I am a woman who dared to ride. Cause I am a woman who did not subscribe to the norms of what MCP’s have decided that we can do over the course of several centuries. All of that for what? Cause I have two legs and two hands and everything else except something that defines his being? All of this cause I belong to that gender that was solely responsible for him being on the face of this earth except for a contribution of half-a-teaspoon?

I refused to be as nasty as him that day cause I am better brought up but I wish with everything that I had that I had never met him and that people such as him (no not men – people – anybody man or woman) who think this way, who’s thinking is limited by gender or status or other inconsequential rubbish wilt and die from the face of this earth and leave this place better by their absence and allow man or woman to achieve their potential not cause of a hormone that determines their sex, but by their ability and their will.

Despite such incidents that happen with alarming regularity, I still know that our world will get better cause the morning of this incident I had the pleasure of meeting several other 100’s of men who gave up their Sunday’s to draw attention to a cause such as Menstrual hygiene. Because the world belongs to these men that I ride with who bring up their sons and daughters as human beings with manners and ability and a sense of equality…cause the world thankfully belongs to those who do not weigh people by the hormones they are blessed with, but with their ability and aptitude.

To this MCP I say…your world is over, your days are numbered for there is a legion of people – both men and women who know that being a man or woman doesn’t define one’s abilities or the lack of it. So, wipe that sorry smirk of yours…I have nothing more than pity for you and your sorry life for I can’t but imagine just how limited your very little teeny-weeny world really is. You have done nothing but yourself a disfavour for you have lost out on some great relationships, great conversations and greater experiences that this world and this life has to offer. I feel sorry for you.   

Hampi - Ancient Splendor

A bit of a Vlog...more of an ad...hope you enjoy the break from all of the reading though. Thanks a bunch. 

Hues

I know I have written about the many hues of greens in the past…but it still gets me anyway. Today as a I took off on the climb up to a 30,000ft once again those hues were something I witnessed, admired and awed at. The cloud cast shadows on the earth below and the greens come alive – the hues that is.

Do we even realize just how lucky we are to see them? The other day I was talking to a colleague who is partially colour blind and it was then that I got thinking of how much we really have to be thankful about. It is not just sight, but the nuances of it.

So as I climbed, I saw and witnessed the patchwork that was down below…it was like this beautiful green blanket cast upon the earth…never boring, never lacking in imagination and thought.  A giant hand had woven it together – this patchwork of beauty…she looked soft but you knew better. Looks like the rain gods have been kind to us this year for the earth is alive with the many hues that a beautiful spring promises.

And then the wispy, dazzling white, cotton-candy clouds, their layer you fly through and then another world takes over. Sometimes blinded by the light that they reflect back, they look soft and inviting – nature and her shenanigans, for imagine you do take her up on her invitation…I will leave the rest to your imagination…

They hang in mid-air light, fluffy and frothy…I do know the science behind it…but the child within me and the vision in front of me does not allow the logic of the science to take hold. They hang there looking innocuous but isn’t it true that they determine the riches or poverty's of great nations? They bring with them the promise of rain or the knell of doom. For the blanket and the hues down below would never have been possible without their conspiracy. So it is their hues, that then determine perhaps the destinies of mere mortals that exist on the land down below…is it not?

(All pics original and captured on a Samsung J7. Yup as basic as that!)

Ladies...what kind of ‘Biker’ are you?!

To all my fellow female bikers here are a few things that men wanted to tell you, but never did either cause they loved you too much, or they hated you too much or they just felt it was too damn unpolitical to say…and so I take the liberty of saying these things…cause somebody just so bloody should…

At the outset let me ask you to please pardon me (yeah I know that is tongue-in-cheek!) if this sounds too harsh, is too rude or is just too much criticism…but please do give it a think…do consider this with an open mind… oh and by the way…I don’t claim to be above all of this…I am not for a minute absolving myself of some of these things…I know and recognize that I ain’t perfect myself…but what the heck…I am willing to learn. I know after this little snarkiness I am opening myself out to criticism ‘aa bhel mujhe maar’…types…but then I also know that sometimes you’ve gotta fall real hard to learn…

Oh and some of these even male bikers are guilty of…so if you are a man and you are reading this…ain’t no need to preen…there are enough of these kinds amongst you too.

So I have been a biker for about 10 years now and in this time I have seen several kinds of female bikers/riders (pillions haven’t been taken into account for this one!). So let’s start with a few of the types…that might help you figure how to circumvent the waters and not belong to these particular “types”…cause the “types” I am talking about are ANNOYING…with a capital A.

So the first category are “pout-ur-on-camera” or the posers as I’d like to call ‘em. These are the kinds who will get a bike to just plain look good on it. This kind will not lose an opportunity to either click or be clicked. And when I say click…yup ‘em selfies they are…what were you thinking? They take on assignments and “rides” to photo studios. They will not miss an opportunity to pout, to push, to pull – push their butts, pull their stomachs…lol…did you think push and pull their bikes…uhuh…they can’t really handle that…their nails might get chipped! What do they look for in a bike…did’ya say BHP…what is that…uhuh…they look for the stickering, the styling…yup I know by now you got it…so not elucidating further on this particular one…I know  everybody has seen them. Kinda hard to miss ‘em!

The second largest category are the “I ain’t got nothin!” kinds. These “bikers” don’t own their ride.

They do however ride…sometimes a hell of a lot. Short distances…long distances and distances in-between…they ride. But these too are posers, just of a different kind. They usually ride their fathers/brothers/uncles/boyfriends/husbands/xyz’s bike. They talk to the ton…but all of it is theoretical nonsense…for when the bike starts to splutter or stop or basically complain…they have no clue what is wrong with it. This kind will own it all…they will own fancy biking jackets, biking shoes, biking this and biking that…but they don’t own the bike. So what’s the big deal you might ask? The big deal is that when you own and maintain your own baby you understand every little whisper and every little clink. You understand what is going wrong and if you have absolutely no technical bend of the mind you will atleast figure that there is something wrong! When you take the trouble of going to your friendly neighbourhood mechanic and you try and explain a ‘clink’ or a ‘drag’ or ‘squeak’ you end up in a conversation and the friendly neighborhood mechanic will explain what is wrong…so you actually get to learn a fair bit. And the next time you hear the same squeak or clink or whatever, you know if it should be taken seriously or not.

Now this kind can actually change their ways. All they need to do is maintain the bike…take it to the service center ladies. Sure it gets uncomfortable not so much cause we are uncomfortable, but because the mechanics in the store all act weird. So what if it is your husband’s/uncles/brothers/…yada…yada’s bike…you ride it…so then you gotta service it too. This way when a lil clink announces the unwinding of your machine you know and you can prevent it from becoming a catastrophic event cause a screw came undone…if you catch my drift!

The third kind…the “soliloquyist”…so these are the women who wanna be by themselves….but they insist on riding with groups. So what’s the big deal you ask…why is this annoying? I’ll tell you why. So you are riding in a group, you are sticking with a formation, the group is doing everything possible to stick together cause we ride together and we have fun together. But this variety of riders…they just want the fun part of it. For as long as they are having fun they are more than happy to tow the line, but the moment they have had their fill they either wanna take off or fall way behind with the result that the entire group starts to go on a hunting spree for them therein losing precious time, extending non-fun moments in the saddle, and generally getting everybody riled up.

Amongst all this exists the very few and very rare kinds of ‘riders’ the ones who have an intimate relationship with their bikes, understand every lil nuance, totally in love with their bikes, have the right gears and find no need to flaunt it, get their bikes serviced on time, tanked up the previous night, no jhanjhat, no complaints, put them on a saddle and they will go anywhere and their bikes too don’t give up on them cause of all the care that they get. This is my favorite kind of rider. They are highly dependable, will stand by you through thick and thin, go out on solo rides when the mood hits them but when in a group completely transform themselves to belong.  If you have had the pleasure of ever riding with such a rider you know what I mean…I have had the pleasure of riding with such riders… from both genders…but yes they are a rarity. So my sincere advice…should you ever come across such a rider do everything to keep them in your fold. These are the people you want to emulate, you want to have with you and you wanna partner with them for any and all rides (pun totally intended! ;P)

Oh and let me sit on judgment on me too what kind of “biker” am i?...”I am a little bit of everything, all rolled into one…” (browny points if you guess the song!) ….I ain’t sitting on the high horse after this little piece ;)

Catch ya on the road…(what kind of rider are you?)