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Thread: Spontaneity Memoirs : A Clueless Journey for Friendship.

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    Default Spontaneity Memoirs : A Clueless Journey for Friendship.

    "When did this get so screwed up, more than ever?"


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    This was the most prevalent thought when I woke up, all warm, wrapped up in a quilt at my home. A man needs to
    be cozy and surrendered to his warmth in weather like this. How and when, did this get so screwed up? I got up,
    started with the breakfast while trying to live up to the huge bubble of anxiety hidden deep in the guts. This was the
    morning of the very next day of my entrance examination.

    Trip Down The Memory Lane : The Self-Made Jailhouse.

    It was always about being in control, being free and being able to feel the liveliness. Motorcycles always make the best
    tools for these. Exactly on the same day in April, I decided to face the deadliest examination a Doctor could ever think
    of facing,the NEET-PG entrance exam. 5.5 years of the whole MBBS curriculum, with 19 subjects to cram inside the
    brain. Just 8 months in hands. With no guarantees of securing a rank because of too many aspirants and too less seats.

    I was perpetually sad. I had to give up my life. Give up motorcycles. Give up people. Give up all the comforts and
    shortcomings. I had to learn to be okay with this monotonous,anxious and sick unhealthy life where the only scenario
    I allowed myself to be in was - to read, revise and sleep.

    Locked myself up for a good eight months and change at a flat. I took a few rides to the hills of Satara, but it was more
    of a buffer. I had switched to a basic phone, no laptop, no internet, no friends, no family. Just me, my books and my bike.
    Long story short, I wrote my exam. Come next day, I was in a pinch. Routine makes you do that. Institutionalised, as
    Red tells in The Shawshank Redemption.

    The Preparation :


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    Rust. It consumes you. I was rusty. The bike, though worshipped was not shown much of a tarmac either. I work
    personally on my RE C350. I am done trusting the mechanics at the SVC and the ones who go deep in your pockets
    outside. The work began. I did the oil change, filters, new plugs, nut replacements and cable changes the same day.
    Chain cleaned and lubed. The tire has still some 30% life to squeeze out of, so I let it be. Slowly as the Sun set, that
    little shivery feel every motorcyclist gets, got to me too. With oil stains, wrenches and sockets all around, I could feel
    the sweetheart coming back to life. I was rusty then, I was ready now.

    Next morning I took a ride to see if everything was at its place. I'd kept this day to stay home and get done with a few
    formalities. It was amazingly cold and foggy. I needed some extra penetrance in the rain, fog and all the bad stuff that comes along.



    Quick visit to a truck shop got me the 12V DC 55W Halogens with the yellow filter screen. I was contemplating.
    Bought a 24V relay and a switch along. Went to a fairly trusted mechanic who'd first ridicule me for going for
    halogens, in view of the battery drain. Then he'd listen through halfway through my sentence and ridicule me again.

    At this point I told him to just do the damn job and let me worry about Physics. Like every deluded RE owner, he too,
    was of the opinion that white LED lights make good fog lamps. I laughed and told him that I will explain to him the
    whole shebang if he does it right in the first place.





    People are afraid.People like their batteries charged. I do too. Not at the cost of visibility, though. White light has so
    much scatter that those fancy LED's (no offence to those who have it installed) are useless in fog itself. The least scatter
    is the red, which is the VIBGYOR extreme, but the closest you can have it yellow while being road-legal. Monochromaticity is what we need for least scatter. It is basic optics. Cult can't change the laws of optics.

    The Halogens were bad ass. I adjusted them in such a way that I don't blind the oncoming traffic.I even test ran them for variable focuses and got that sweet spot where they yield the most. Fantastic.




    Just stock lamps



    Just Fog Lamps



    Both of Them


    And no, I am not going to use them every time. They are for contingencies only, where a dash of light would stand between me and my grave. Halogens rock.

    Packed my bags, and waited for the morning to come. I had no plans. I would ride out somewhere and take it from there. All smiles.

    The Spontaneous Ride Starts :

    I suited up. I had the following gears on.


    • Jacket : Rynox Tornado Pro

    • Gloves : DSG Carbon

    • Knee Guards : O'neal Racing Pro

    • Helmet : LS2 Phobia

    • Boots : Gosgo Long Ballistic Boots

    • Rynox Mobile Mount

    • Microsoft Lumia 640 with offline maps which is the best thing, like, ever.

    • ViaTerra Claw Large with one additional Lenovo laptop bag in it.



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    There was only one glitch. I anyhow had to attend the engagement ceremony of my sister at Kolhapur, on 24th. So barring the fact that I had to be there on 24th at Kolhapur, I had absolutely no plans.

    I decided to go to Pune first. I had ideas of giving a walk-in interview since long. I thought I'd give it a try. I rode up all the way to a reputed hospital at Erandavane area, Pune from Satara. It was just warm-up. I had to wait quite a while in the waiting lounge in all my gear, while I was smiling devilishly.

    It was quite an interview. The man who asked questions had puzzled expressions all along. I'd removed the jacket and was sitting in a shirt, but he was, at point, forced to enquire if I had some knee effusions or hematoma. I told him it is the knee guards. Then we both set off laughing a little. I didn't even want the job that bad. I was just playing around there, trying to take a step into the civilisation once again.

    I'd like to add here, that my previous rides I've documented here were about the solitude seeking rides to far off places. That was the time when I was working and hence was seeking some me-time. This time, after living in a self-made jailhouse for eight months, I had tasted enough solitude to last for an year. Now was the time to meet up people, have long talks, re-connect the withered ties and share myself to the fullest with the people I love.

    I called up my uncle's place and informed I was coming to stay. I went there, freshened up and again went out. Too many friends in Pune. Met with a friend nearby and returned. Spent the night chatting with my kid brother, uncle and aunt.

    Day 2 : Pune

    Not much to add here, I roamed around and met with friends even more. Pune is a confused city.It is stuck, like a nut in teeth, between the ever expanding explosion of material wealth and the life goals that lifestyle puts upon oneself, and the strong pull of the ignorance which the tradition and customs have been ingrained since the beginning. I don't like the city much, never did, but I still frequent it because of the gems of people I have found and cherished init.

    Went back to Uncle's home and slept. Called up a friend at Ahmednagar if I could come visit him and crash at his place. He said that his ex-room partner should not ask such questions.

    Day 3 : Pune to Ahmednagar

    Left for Ahmednagar at about 4pm after a heavy lunch at Uncle's place and meeting a few more people at Pune. I was stuck in traffic as expected till Wagholi, then things calmed down a little bit. I opened throttle and after about 20 minutes of enjoyment,the sunlight vanished.


    Everyone knows who is the real asshole when the road is two-ways and still the genius drivers haven't yet found that switch where Dipper is symbolized. High beamers make the worst enemies. When you have spectacles plus the visor, things get sticky like chewing gum under the bench. Everything scatters.






    It is fun though,because when night falls, a biker starts feeling less entitled. We're no more the pompous, egoistic, proud breed waving at each other as we pass like we belong here. We are weak, poorly illuminated, barely visible,non-self-balancing mass of flesh on two wheels. We don't rule the nights.That's business for truckers.

    The lack of the feel of being entitled gets quickly replaced with an unspoken anxiety. You treat the road with more respect than you did in the daylight. You start watching your lines, your brakes and your speed. Night riding is a necessary evil. It is a rigid teacher.

    I took a stop for snacks once at Sangamner, and then straight went to the friend's place at Ahmednagar.


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    Some great things must be said about this little thing called offline maps in Windows Phones,which tell the location as good as any other phone maps system. I was sceptical about it first, just like the Halogen aux lamps, but I have learned one lesson in life very painfully, and that is to not judge as much as possible. It works mostly in our favour. One has to try it to know about it. It led me to Harshvardhan's place deep in the lanes of A'nagar. Deep enough to erase my prejudices about WinPhone maps reliability.


    I reached, and we had dinner. Later he took me out to a coffee shop where he introduced me to some of his friends. Yes, new people. These new folks were so amazing, that we kind of bonded in the first meet itself. We all talked till the point the caf manager politely hustled us out at 11:30 pm. Then we took off and decided to meet the next day and go out somewhere.
    Later that night, Harshavardhan took out his harmonium. We sang a few night ragas. What a tranquil time it was, singing, reciting ancient bandishes in the chill of the night after so many months. Don't even remember when we slept.

    Day 4 : The Day I regained myself.

    I know, this travelogue is of more personal kind, with very less motorcycling involved per se, kilometre-wise.
    I write this because I want to document it somewhere while it is fresh. More importantly, I want my readers to know how I take motorcycling. Being a motorcycle owner and being a biker are two different things. Two wheels must be an irreplaceable part of a biker's life, but it doesn't define his life. The idea is to be free, to be in control of your fate. The bike is just a tool to take you there.

    Motorcycles are a good compromise. Open road, total control, manoeuvrability and independence are the cornerstones of this lifestyle. Still, bikes sometimes can get much faster/slower for the pace of the mind's frame of reference. The way of travel must match with the pace of mind one harbours at that moment. Walking is the best way, considering all the factors. Shit, if I had enough life years, I'd just walk/cycle to places rather biking there. But it just isn't so. Thus we have bikes, the most beautiful compromise where we can still be fast, carry luggage and be free.

    One can only balance himself on two wheels for so long in a straight line, and make life all about bikes themselves. My best wishes to all them who make it about the bikes. Start looking a furlong ahead, there is more to it. There always is.

    This day at Ahmednagar was strange. Harsha showed me around town, we sampled the famous Misal in the morning, BansiMaharaj melting in the mouth Gulab Jamuns in the afternoon, drove up to ChandBibi ka Mahal in the late afternoon and watched the Sun set with friends, watching it slowly fade away into nothingness with just silence and whooshing sound of the strong wind to accompany.

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    We all went to stay at another batchmate and soul brother named Swanit that night. Had dinner at his home, he had invited his friends, too. Played a few dumb games the whole night, laughed, cursed and did all the stuff we used to do at the Hostel in our undergraduate days. We relived that stuff. It is addictive. At some watershed moment in the midnight where we all were too weary from violent laughs and fighting sleep, I somehow regained myself. I'd somehow lost myself in the past 8 months. I'd sacrificed myself. There was this one little click, where I found it all, in one moment. Like buried treasure. Everything became so clear right then. Like after wearing spectacles. Priceless.



    I called up another friend who stays at Nashik that day and asked if he was free and could take me for a day. He'd said anytime I can come. So I decided to ride to Nashik the next day.

    Day 5 : Ahmednagar to Nashik

    Got up late, as expected. Now was not the time to rush. I took my sweet time, and left to Nashik in the afternoon.


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    The ride was good,the roads were agreeable, I was anyway in the state of no mind. My job was to register everything as it comes to me, enjoy the immediate parts and keep the rest in reserve to process later. Months of relentless studying makes one like this.It lowers one's RAM. It was a fun ride. Did not get many photos because of the phone mounted on the bike and basically not feeling the need to document everything in visual cues.

    Reached Nashik. Microsoft Maps once again extremely accurate.

    Saurabh and I go way back. We are soul crossed wanderers. We did our MBBS events together. We even finished our degrees on the same date! Such joy when you meet someone like that after months! After all, this time motorcycling was a bonus to the joy of celebrating friendship

    With his family, we all went to a restaurant named Curry Leaves at Nashik. The heavy dinner made us fall asleep fast. The khakra was out of the world.

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    Day 6 : Nashik and Bicycles.

    We woke up and hadthe ultimate breakfast : Misal Pao - The Nashik way. We returned home, not before we had Pandey's Lassi at Panchavati.


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    Just like that, Saurabh came up with an idea of cycling to his farm out of town, about 15 km from his house. Me, Saurabh and his kid brother thus cycled to the farmhouse.It was something else. I was riding one after about 7 years. Still, fifteen minutes later, my muscle memory caught up to me.

    Bicycling has all the attributes of motorcycling. It is cheaper, healthier, offers more control,reliability, lesser chances of death and injury, more flickable and more in contact with the reality than motorcycling. Only two shortcomings make bikes more popular and practical tools : 1. Luggage 2. Time.

    Bicycles are awesome commuters and shitty tourers. That's just common sense. But talk about wind in the face, bicycles are the bomb. Walking and ultimately crawling are the only two possible next levels remaining to keep in touch with the ground reality.

    We watched to Sunset in the field horizon and cycled back once again to Saurabh's home. I had to push off the next day anyhow, as he had some work pending the next day.

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    I had no destination planned in mind. Slowly I zeroed on to Mumbai. The city where I made my bones.Where my alma mater is. I had to visit. It was decided I was riding to Mumbai the next early morning.

    Day 7 : Nashik - Mumbai and Surprises.

    I rode to Mumbai from Nashik. It was so cold, I didn't take a break till almost Asangaon. It was cold like anything. The little curves at Kasara ghat were pleasurable as always. The Sun-kissed one way road in the early hours is one hell of a way to make peace with yourself.

    We mostly prefer cold over the heat and sweat. We're bound to, in a tropic like India. I've never really understood the movies like Fargo or The Hateful Eight. The teeth-grinding cold and the effect it has one's bearing, how ever we possibly could fathom that? We never have experienced that kind of temperature except for the time we put our hands in the freezer to take the ice cubes out.

    Thinking this, I stopped at the Padgha toll plaza and went to the traditional Moti Mahal restaurant for the Kheema Pao and Chai breakfast. I have memories here. I did a 5 day posting at Padgha PHC when I was an intern. I'd stayed and worked therefor 5 days and rode every night to a different Dhaba. Still, the breakfast joint was always the same : Moti Mahal, Padgha. My hands were frozen from the 9am chilly ride and the hot tea made them malleable again. I lost count of the times I re-ordered the chai and little brown muffins to go along with.

    Remaining ride to Mumbai was too uneventful to tell. I stopped once to remove my thermal liner as the heat was catching up now. Met with a few cyclists who where doing some big 14 day practice run from Karnataka to MH and back. They didn't approve of me much.I could sense that scornful look and reserved talk, while I had nothing but best wishes for them. I greeted them, regardless, and moved on.

    I have a very cheap, unlimited accommodation at the guest room of my medical college's hostel at Mumbai. Only down-side is, it is a little difficult to get it on short notices.Plus it is yet to be defined that how many days means unlimited. I had some university affairs to tend to anyways, so I waltzed into the room, washed myself and started taking long walks in the realm of bureaucracy with a folder full of documents under my arm.

    Here, I walked into my another ex-roomie from the hostel days, Kapil. He too, was there for the same kind of work. Then we waited for clerks to show together.Had lunch together at the college canteen and rejuvenated some of the food memories of the college days. I realised the food was still shit, but the company mattered then, like it did now.



    We'd all done it together. The countless hours spent studying, college events, affairs, night outs, exploration and a trillion other things, we shared it amongst us.Take the friends out of the question, and the math fails invariably. They're not my friends anymore. They're a part of me. Delete them, and I am not myself anymore. I am them. They are me. Friendship is a strong negation for duality.It is a step taken towards the ultimate state of selflessness.

    I dropped Kapil at the Dadar bus station, and I rode back to my college. I decided to explore Mumbai once again like I'd done for last six odd years. I went to all the places I could go to, mostly at Mahim and Bandra.

    Returned and called up a very close friend of mine, she was writing her exam at the point when I called her. I was aware of her plan of going to Alibaug immediately after writing the last paper of the final examination with a group of 40 people of her own batchmates. Plus the next day was her birthday too. They'd booked a bungalow there, and were going to have the time of their lives. I don't know many people in that group owing to the fact they are my juniors. I wasn't interested in socializing with them. I had to meet my friend and be there somehow for her birthday. It was the perfect opportunity. Only one glitch. I had to reach Kolhapur which is about 380 km from Mumbai if I took the NH4. It becomes something 340km if I chose the Mumbai Goa road but on that road, but I had to chase time here, which I absolutely hate. Chasing time on Mumbai-Goa highway isn't a bright idea.

    There were two options. It was 3pm when I pondered over these. The engagement starts at about 10am at Kolhapur.


    1. I miss the birthday of my friend, say screw it, and gun it to Kolhapur and reach somewhere around midnight. Not fun.



    1. I attend the birthday by riding to Alibaug in the Panvel-Chembur traffic, reach by the time they reach, and take rest for the night, get some sleep, and ride to Kolhapur in the morning, make excuses and miss the ceremony.



    1. I take a ferry to Revas with my bike in it, get some shut-eye during the ferry, reach Alibaug at dinnertime, attend the birthday at 12midnight, leave for Kolhapur at 3 am and somehow make the appearance at 10am.


    I chose plan 3. I hate public transport, but I know when to back off. Sleepless and tired time chasing rides starting at midnight looks ballsy, but I want myself in one piece too.

    I went to BhauCha Dhakka with all my luggage.I cleaned and lubed the chain before leaving, for I had to ride quite a distance the next morning.


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    I was lucky. People were ready to transport a RE with all its weight in the ferry. I had to beg a few of them to do it. It is too cheap and too quick. Plus the ferries at gateway were stopped after 4pm on account of some function. 70 INR for the man and 150 INR for the bike. Hell's Bells, this was cheap. I like cheap things.

    As usual, they set the ferry afloat after a 30 minute delay. I quickly grabbed a seat at the deck and helped tie the bike securely to the barrier. The sea was calm and I quickly tried to get some sleep. I was accompanied by a paddy farmer who was a gentle,educated old man. He was coughing constantly, and it broke my sleep. So I started talking with him so that it'd distract him from the cough.

    Next one and a half hour, we were chatting non-stop. He taught me how to identify good fish, gave me a couple recipes and educated me how rice crops are cultivated in brackish water drawing illustrations on his newspaper. Such a petite old fellow, but his eyes were gleaming with joy when he was talking about the thing he loves. Forty years, day in - day out, this man was farming rice. That is all he knows. It is too difficult to retain passion in such a line of work. Agreed, farming is everything but monotonous. Yet, it is the shakiest business one can ever do. I respect how this man still managed to talk about it with wide eyes, overflowing with passion, where I know a few surgeons and IT professionals who are fed up with the work they do and get paid ridiculously large amounts for that. Anyway,I never got along with such misers. I feel more at home with passionate people who don't quantify everything in monetary terms.

    Arrived at Revas,and greeted the old man with a prescription and a reference. Exchanged numbers.I'm gonna visit him soon and learn a little about fishing.

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    Revas to Alibaug is some 15 km in total dark and little roads. I checked in at the bungalow these fellows had booked at Akshi. They were stuck in the Chembur-Panvel traffic and were coming by bus. I figured they'd reach by 11pm. So I unpacked my bags, changed and had dinner of fish rice and solkadhi at the same resort. Then I just slept.My plans of sleeping on the ferry were already sabotaged by the long talks.

    Day 8 : Alibaug - Kolhapur

    I woke up with the phone call of my friend that they have arrived. I was elated. I quickly went out and greeted her. It was past 12 midnight. The birthday was already on. A group of forty people, all aged around 22 years, who have just finished with a university examination is indeed a group to witness. Too much energy and enthusiasm to handle. It is contagious. Soon, the booze came out, the music turned up and people started grooving.

    I don't drink. I don't see the point in it. Neither does my friend. We talked for a while and then I realized it was already 3am. I started gearing up. She was so glad that I finally made it to her birthday, even it is for a couple hours. I had promised her I'd be there for her birthday. I'd also promised my sister that I'd be there for her engagement. But the birthday as well as the engagement were on the same day.

    I am a man of my word. I don't break promises. They are not meant for that. At any rate, I had to leave.

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    I left with goodbyes at about 4 am. I had about seven hours. It was cold and dark. I could feel the chill in my bones crawling all the way through the thermal liner plus sweatshirt plus T-shirt.

    I chose the Alibaug- Pen - Khopoli - NH4 way. It had more miles to it, but it is good road after Khopoli. I decided to anyhow reach Khopoli in one hour which was 60km approx from my location at Alibaug. The roads are bad. I mean the bad kind of bad. Yet with a hopeful enthusiasm, I gunned it towards Khopoli.

    All my positivity quickly faded when I witnessed how messed up the road is. It now seemed difficult to reach Khopoli in mere 60 minutes. I ripped wherever I safely could. Then a little 30 odd km after, I went through the never witnessed phenomenon of my life.

    A fog storm. YesSir. It was a storm. Strong currents trying to push me off the bike. I was the only bike, rest all were cars and trucks. They had stopped because the visibility was zero. I could see the dim flicker of the parking lights. Thick white fog stabbed by strong currents of merciless wind. It was so thick, I could see the eddies of the wind all ahead of me. It quickly moistened my visor from inside, too. I lifted it up. Damn. The chill is like a bear claw. Ripping your skin intact. I had no choice. I had to move ahead. The cagers had all the time in the world to sit in their climate controlled bubble and wait for it to pass. My sister was going to get engaged only once. Plus I was not getting exactly any warmer by standing at one place, getting my visor wet.

    I decided to cut through the fog. I had to split lanes between the queue of stranded cars, but now those 110 extra Watts of monochromatic halogen yellow were to my service. I flicked them on, and oh boy. World was a whole other place after it. I could make myself seen, and could see a little over 5 to 6 cars ahead with the projected beam. 100 marks for optics.

    With a wide grin, I cut through the fog. Fun stuff. You are so alert when you ride through the adverse climate. It is that level of concentration when you're solving adifficult mathematical problem. No distractions are pardonable, because it relates to your survival. Such a sublime state of mind. Riding is meditative,because it keeps one within oneself. You cease to become the role you play to get along with the herd called society. You don't have to be a pretentious jerk who is slaving for the big corporate giants, filling their pockets with your soul. You don't have to be that loser who will die as an underachiever where no one will weep for you. You don't have to be that sadistic fellow called the boss who carries the guilt of projecting his insecurities onto the lives of his subordinates and drown them later in the night to the bottom of your fourth peg. You don't, at all have to be someone you're supposed to be. You are yourself, whoever you might be. A poet, a singer, a philosopher, an athlete, or just a plain nobody. You are all up for discovery, the whole of you, right over that saddle and without any misleading curtains. This, in my view is the essence of motorcycling. All the other things like road presence, cult following and bikes come later. If one can't open his eyes and let himself inside, past his self-created shadowy projection, the whole soul of the process is lost and any amount of touring becomes a series of controlled explosions at the spark plug and useless movements of the piston. All there left is the miles put on the wheels. Then you are just reduced to one another number. Like you do outside. Just one number in a list.



    I rode in this mindless state of utter concentration till about Satara. I didn't stop at Lonavala or Dehu Bypass. I rode for about 300 km without a stop. I didn't feel the need to stop and rest. I don't exactly remember what were my thoughts the whole time, but that is the whole point. I was at peace with myself and concentrating on only one thing : Riding. I came to senses when Satara arrived.The butt was anaesthetised due to the cold and the pressure. It was just 8:30am. I was too ahead of time now. I had to reach by 11am maximum at Kolhapur. So I spotted a Kamath's and went inside. Moments later, I saw a trio of bikers having breakfast at a table. I don't usually walk up to people. I saw a N650 outside with a couple RE's. They didn't seem to be the usual breakfast weekend warriors. I was too cold and my hands were wooden because of that 300km stretch. I bought the overpriced dilute coffee just to wrap my fingers around it. Aah, bliss. The trio was glancing at me just like I was glancing at them. I was too cold to have any interest in conversation. At last, when they pushed off, the N650 rider walked up to me and asked me about my plans. I told him something I don't recall now. I was a frozen cornetto. He told me they were going to Sankaleshwar. Good smooth ride on the NH4. I wished them luck and said goodbye.

    Soon after the coffee break, I informed my relatives at Kolhapur that I indeed am coming. I had 2.5 hours in hand. No need to rush now. I took my sweet time. Stopped once again for breakfast at Manikandan Karad. Stopped by at the RE showroom to buy new Hex Flange Nuts, washers, gaskets, sump screen and oil filter screen. Some couple on a TB500 was furiously cutting lanes and trying to keep the 110's with all they could. I respect how they were all both geared up to the teeth. When I saw they had a side stand on, I blazed up near them with all the throttle I could twist with my little 350 and tried to signal them about it. I think they took offence because he made an obscene gesture. Five minutes later when they tried to cut a lane the stand scraped so hard, that they fishtailed a little and stopped by the side to see what happened. I did not stop then. I am done with the whole cult thing by now. Later on I heard them cross me roaring with the same ferocity to rip the road. All the best to them.

    I reached Kolhapur at about 10:30am keeping my speed averaging 60 to 80 kmph. Rynox Mount scores a distinction here for having performed well through all the bad bumps, RE vibes and whatnot. Windows Maps once again took me to the venue with ease. The ring ceremony was yet to begin. I entered the hall with the luggage and helmet. I was clearly the misfit amongst the serene gawdy scented atmosphere of the engagement hall. People and relatives,dressed up to the teeth and hurriedly going somewhere with an unspoken anxiety. For an instance the whole hall took notice of me, I didn't care. I was there for my beloved sister, whom I was trying to spot at the stage. I could not see her. I wanted to shout loudly,that here I am, just for you, little sis. Then I saw my mother coming to me.She inquired about the safety aspects as usual and then told me that my sister is still in the makeup room, getting pampered for the rituals. I went upstairs with my brother and saw my sister all beautiful, coming out of the doorway. She hugged me then and there, paying no mind to the highway oil and dirt on my jacket. She whispered : "I knew you'd come, dada". That was it. That was the one moment I was longing for. All the day which was to follow was a bonus day. Everything else be damned. I got what I was looking for. One more moment to cherish forever and ever.

    I changed into formals in the room at the Hotel and went downstairs for the ceremony. I am not much of a rituals guy. Shook hands with a few, listened to people brag about their new cars and property rates per square feet, made acquaintances with forgotten relatives, answered a few repeated questions about career plans,provided medical advice for free to a few who lurched around when they knew, and all that routine stuff. It's like clockwork now a days. I don't mind it either. It just isn't joyful anymore.



    After the lunch I decided to stay at my uncle's place. He is an accomplished writer and a poet.He talked a lot, I mainly listened to him. It was like a shower of pearls upon me. One must always shut up when wise people are talking. We had conversations over Kolhapuri Tambda-Pandhara rassa thaali which is the epitome of Kolhapuri food culture. When we realized that we have eaten more than we should have, we tumbled out of the restaurant and went home. I slept in no time. No wonder.

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    Day 9 : To Sum it Up All : Kolhapur - Satara

    The next day, my uncle took me to Kalamba lake for birdwatching. I had cut my ties with photography an year ago owing to the self made jailhouse study. We sighted many birds, aquatic, terrestrial, arboreal as well as raptors. We could see Bonnelli's eagle and Marsh Harrier up close. River terns were swarming on the surface of the lake. Quiet and calm. We talked about birds, literature and poetry. I could sense myself coming back to the old life, bit by bit. I recited a few ragas and told him a little about the bandishes. It was a tranquil, slow walk in the woods, with two connected souls whispering to each other about all the complex puzzles of the world.

    We returned. I felt fulfilled now. I had to return to Satara because my friends Harshavardhan and Saurabh were coming to my house the next day. I had been to their places last week, now it was my duty to host them. I quickly suited up and rode from Kolhapur to Satara.

    On my way back, I was getting a kaleidoscopic vignettes of the moments I had soon after I released myself from the self made jailhouse. It was one week on the road and it was nothing but planned. I somehow could step out of myself and touch the old me. I could see myself like I do in a mirror. After the jail term was over,I was in a denial that it is impossible now to find myself. It was as if I'd sacrificed a little important piece of myself at the altar of the examination.

    I could see, feel and listen. Once again : The same impulsive, spontaneous carefree guy who is trapped in the worldly affairs and wants to always step out of the beaten norms. What a ride it was. Full of joyous moments, gleaming eyes, laughs, dust,fog and warmth.

    Here, the smile comes. Under the helmet, and the face mask, your lips make a little gesture of a fulfilled smile. It has to be earned. No one ever can smile like that wilfully.All the experiences, doings and misdeeds, as if a tonne of flowers are given to extract one bottle of perfume. Just like that one bottle, this one smile,blooming on the face when I twist the throttle on the open road with tremendous compassion, becomes the greatest reward I'll ever have. That's why I ride.



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    Moderator The Monk's Avatar
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    Default Re: Spontaneity Memoirs : A Clueless Journey for Friendship.

    Travelogue Approved
    Biking is not about what you have between your legs, its all about how well you use it!!!!!!!

    Give your details here if you want to help your fellow xBhpian stranded in your city

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    Still Learning© sajalsheth's Avatar
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    Default Re: Spontaneity Memoirs : A Clueless Journey for Friendship.

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    @DocOnTwoWheels ji

    Nice Travelogue....
    (only two photo need to be reversed upside down)

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    Default Re: Spontaneity Memoirs : A Clueless Journey for Friendship.

    Quote Originally Posted by sajalsheth View Post
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    @DocOnTwoWheels ji

    Nice Travelogue....
    (only two photo need to be reversed upside down)
    I wrote this in OneNote and pasted directly so some typos crept in. Still trying to adjust the view. Sorry for the inverted images. I have removed them now.
    sajalsheth likes this.

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    Default Re: Spontaneity Memoirs : A Clueless Journey for Friendship.

    Wonderfully written travelogue and I must mention here that you have remarkable penmanship skills. Good going and well done
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    Default Re: Spontaneity Memoirs : A Clueless Journey for Friendship.

    Quote Originally Posted by akshay View Post
    Wonderfully written travelogue and I must mention here that you have remarkable penmanship skills. Good going and well done
    Thank you ! I am still working on my word processor skills, though. Even after many attempts, I couldn't find anything to delete those inverted photos. Perhaps you could put some light onto that?

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    Default Re: Spontaneity Memoirs : A Clueless Journey for Friendship.

    spell bound by the write-up doc..I have an Avenger Street 220..would you be kind enough to guide me which Halogen/foglight I shd use for my bike fr rides...
    would prefer yellow colour(js like yours)..bt it should not drain the battery...

    would be perfect if you can share any URL/PRODUCT RECOMMENDATION

    THANKS
    Last edited by saurabhgupta710; 12-30-2016 at 02:06 PM.
    Saurabh

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    Default Re: Spontaneity Memoirs : A Clueless Journey for Friendship.

    Quote Originally Posted by DocOnTwoWheels View Post
    Thank you ! I am still working on my word processor skills, though. Even after many attempts, I couldn't find anything to delete those inverted photos. Perhaps you could put some light onto that?
    Ah, now I'm a noob at all this, but if you have uploaded the pictures to the file manager in xbhp, then you can go back to the manager and delete it from there. Perhaps use the edit post function and preferably use a desktop computer by going to the website for making changes. Hope it works
    Ride To Live

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    Default Re: Spontaneity Memoirs : A Clueless Journey for Friendship.

    You have a way with words my friend, Brilliant.

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    Default Re: Spontaneity Memoirs : A Clueless Journey for Friendship.

    Quote Originally Posted by masterminds View Post
    You have a way with words my friend, Brilliant.
    Mucho gusto, mi amigo

    ----consecutive posts auto-merged-----

    Quote Originally Posted by saurabhgupta710 View Post
    spell bound by the write-up doc..I have an Avenger Street 220..would you be kind enough to guide me which Halogen/foglight I shd use for my bike fr rides...would prefer yellow colour(js like yours)..bt it should not drain the battery...would be perfect if you can share any URL/PRODUCT RECOMMENDATION THANKS
    Hey, thanks!Regarding the lights : I went to a truck shop and bought these lamps of a generic brand. It has a rating of 55W each and run on a 12V DC battery. I asked the mech to take one input directly from the battery and the other through a 24V large relay. That way the lamps and the battery stay safe. I got the lamp for 200 INR each. Fitting plus the brackets - the mech charged me 500 INR. These are not for show, only for emergencies. So it's okay on the battery. The battery gets trickle charged anyway. I can always monitor the charge on the ammeter. I used the lights in fog and dark for about 1.5 hour and it did nothing to the battery. So I guess it is okay.You can always go to eBay and look for a seller named VOLGAAUTOMOTIVE who has the same ones. If your battery is 8A 12V DC then it is fine, I guess. So far, so good for me.Wish you happy miles ahead, cheers!

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