BOOKS TO NO BOOKS
Warangal to Hyderabad on JAWA
When the whole world disagreed to me, when studies became wars, when teachers became demons, when books became weapons of mass destruction, when booze resulted in high not enough; that’s when I needed peace. I searched for it like a nomad and found my JAWA lying in corner of my room with a emotional face suggesting me that it was also in same situation, its leaking oil like blood. Emotions took over partiality, that’s when I realized we needed to break free.
It was Friday evening around 17:00 I took my JAWA to the mechanic and got the clutch cover gasket changed and it stopped bleeding and also got the air filter cleaned my JAWA was breathing the fresh air and was ready to taken on the world. Next day morning I decided to have a meditation session on jawa, I mean to have a small ride of around 300km (Up and Down) from Warangal(books) to Hyderabad(no more books).
It was around 8:20 I went to my friend Ajay’s room and told him about the plan (with the motive of sharing the fuel cost, as I still live on economy mode) and asked him weather he was interested in coming along with me. I was amazed seeing his enthusiasm and just found out he was as interested in bikes and bike rides as me. I took out the Jawa from my hostel blocks parking stand , I started wiping its tank and then its fenders . As I was wiping its front fender and facing the head light I suddenly felt that she was starring at me with a unique smile as if she knew in advance what were my plans.
Now it was about 9:30 I locked my room and there was helmet in one hand and Jawa’s keys on other. Ajay joined me, as his room was at the entrance of our hostel block. He had a backpack. As I was walking towards Jawa I was praying to god that she should not take more that ten minutes to start since the weather was cold. I unlocked the huge godrej lock(neck lock) pushed in the ignition key ,turned the fuel cook to reserve and with two compressions and a mild kick it fired ,I was amazed !!! Because it started on first kick for first time that too in morning cold. Then I thought, may be it was preparing whole night to welcome me in the morning in this way, I was honored. After two quick throttles twists slowly she started settling down in its own thump which was nothing less than Metallica.
We settled, and with an up shift of gear lever (you can also call it as kick lever –patented technology of Jawa)the monster jerked as if some one tinkled her all of sudden and she started rolling living behind two thin and parallel lines of blue smoke like a rocket on fire. As I approached the Main gate of NITW the watch men were alert al of the sudden because of the exhaust note.
We cursing at 60km/hr and looking at the Rocky Mountains around the me the greenery of farms was a treat to watch. The most interesting thing to notice here was the lush green cultivating lands end with rocky grey mountains, a rare combo. I could make out that Ajay was struggling for grip as the seat was too small in length for two. We had done around 30km now and time was around 11:10, Ajay told me to stop for a tea break. I found one small shack kind of shop were tea and Kallu( Telugu name for toddy ) was served . The white bottles tempted us but we were not ready to take risk as we had to ride a long distance. After to a refreshing tea, we rolled again. Now I was in a mood to ride fast . I twisted the throttle slowly and with a lazy ease Jawa picked up and before we could realize it was on steroids, it was zooming past Pulsars. The handling and the stability was so amazing that it could make all the modern India bikes look like snakes. The front breaks were so sharp and in great shape the same can’t be said for the rear ones though. I got the whole experience of what young Indians riding Jawas in 60s and 70s really felt. Since the road condition was also of 70s my experience was more realistic, well that’s what I call icing on cake.
Now it was 13:00, and Ajay just told me that he was hungry. Even I was, but I was lost in the charm of Jawa and was really not felling my own stomach’s request. We pulled in to a dabba which had no name plate but, it had most of the curries. We ordered palak panner and dal fry with some rotis. As I noticed the jawa’s exhaust pipes were still smoking like old man smoking cigar slowly, it was even blowing out smoke rings. Made me think how my friends would try to make rings out of ciggy’s smoke and were all most every time unsuccessful.
Now we were around 30km from Hyderabad, all of sudden Jawa started jerking as if it was choking ; she turned off, she ran out of gas. I was clue less really; don’t know what to do now, Ajay gave me an idea to bend her to left , I told him “ ****er this is not Bajaj Chetak” , he replied “ just try out man”. With application of lot of strength I bent her, first time I experienced how bending Jawa can build your biceps. I held her for 15 seconds and got her back to the upright position, I could feel my biceps stiff and nerves of my forearms were having blood rush. now I tried to start her ,with a hard third kick she was back to life then I thought “how come” then I realized that fuel was there on the other half of the tank which was not flowing to the side having fuel cock. Then I went about 2km back to a Indian oil station and told the guy “ five single oil and five liters” and the guy replies me “ do you get spares for this bike” this is one question that most often people ask me and I am sick of answering , I told him “yes ,but second hand” then when he was fueling the bike he was slowly running his hand on the head light and the speedometer as if he was experiencing a Italian lady sculpture. Ajay told me that I shall ride a bit fast. As I picked the speed, Ajay was recording the ride and the road on his soap box (actually Nokia 6600, that’s what he calls it as).
As I got first glimpse of so called “posh apartments” ,I knew that we have arrived . We had to go to Banjara Hills one of the posh places in Hyderabad where Ajay’s friends stay. With lot of gear changes we finally reached Banjara Hills, believe me the place was treat for eyes . I started searching for a Maruthi 800 because I could no find any car less than a Toyota Camry and saw around thirty Mercedes belonging to ever class including A class and a red SL 500 convertible with in half an hour. But between all these German, Japanese mob my little Czech beauty was also getting attention of some of the people, it made me proud. Suddenly I hear a real load and roaring sound approaching me from behind ,I slowed down I knew they were super bikes, they were to Italian beauties; a black Ducati Monster and a red and silver combo M V Agusta. The whole crowd in front of Hyderabad Central were trying to have glimpse of those super bikes, all of sudden there were no one looking at Jawa other than a traffic cop. Now to my right there were super bikes and all of sudden the Ducati guy who was a person in his mid 40 s slows down and says “ good bike man” and rips off. I really did not understand his motive may be he wanted to show his dominance or may be he really appreciated my taste, but by considering his age I thought the second reason was a better fit , any ways it felt good, then felt jealous of there bikes and then compromised due to my present economic condition all three felling in “ gone in three seconds”. Then I told to my self “what the F***, I own a legend, I own a Jawa man”. It’s the bike that always made me proud, always taught me how to gain attention and respect, a legend that always made its own road and it’s the bike that never moved my body, it moved my soul . I want to conclude by telling what Ajay said me once we reached his friends house, when i turned off the ignition key and I took off my Helmet,Ajay said “ kay bike hai Yaar, kay bike hai”.

also see : http://www.xbhp.com/talkies/pit-stop...-bike-art.html