On Benglur Roads – Part II

You know how it is. You are flying good times; then you are pulled down to insipid grounds, unpleasant jerk like. You mumble grumble tch-tch to get back to the good place. A week later, what with this and that, you sort of accept things as they are and say Right Ho to real life.

 

Allow me to illustrate. Last Wednesday, I looked through the glass wall of my office and saw at the stretch of land below me. Hey, where did all the hills and mountains go, why is the horizon so plain, I wondered. I also wondered why there were suddenly so many buildings. A nano second later, I realized I was in Benglur City now and had left Goa behind 10 days ago. Heart-breaking it was. Also, eye-opening. And one needs a healthy dose of things done to one’s anatomy (breaking hearts and opening eyes, I mean) once in a while.

 

The Achar Close Friends’ Circle (consisting of a wide range of unfortunate specimens) was also quite taken aback by this uncharacteristic behavior. I mean to say, Persons A, B and C have always seen Person X as being a cold fish; flicking off people and places from memory nonchalantly, like a speck of dust from the sleeves, you get the picture.

 

Suddenly Person X returns from a work assignment in Goa and starts wearing I Love Goa hats, endlessly chattering about the desserts to try out in the Panjim area, goes glaze-faced at the mention of the word Phenim (Feni) and gets a distant longing expression in the eyes. (Well, I didn’t actually wear I Love Goa hats, but the others I did). Naturally, Persons A, B and C start wondering about the mental health of Person X. Art Thou Thyself, they start asking. Ammu even diagnosed the condition – “You had far too much fun, I guess” – she shook her head gravely. (Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome Ammu to these chronicles. You might see more of her in subsequent posts.) 

 

In the end, Time – the Great Healer – had to come to the rescue of the above mentioned person X. Aided by a Kinetic Honda. Anyway, lets not get ahead of ourselves; we’ll treat things in the right chronology. 

 

It has been quite sometime since I created this fine piece of art where you read about my riding. Since then, I have garnered much experience on traveling on roads riding a two wheeler. Seasoned, you could say. Also very spoilt, turns out. After the sheer joy of not having to wait without a schedule (which you have to if you are traveling by public transportation) and getting to slither like a reptile in gaps among vehicles during traffic jams (which you can’t if you are driving the old girl Maruti 800), I wanted nothing other than a two-wheeler now that am back to the old metropolis.

 

But the trick is, you see, the Achar household doesn’t own a two-wheeler. Only padre’s old Ind-Suzuki, the one which was bought when I was a less-than-year old infant, qualifying it to be ancient relic in terms of bike life-cycles. Hence, we are reduced to beg, borrow or steal. Mother strongly disapproves of stealing bikes and we are all very scared of her disapproval, so we have decided to only beg or borrow. I have so far “borrowed” a Scooty Pep, a Honda Activa (both of which kept my company for a month) and presently a Kinetic Honda from well-meaning friends.

The said Kinetic Honda, while not an ancient relic like the said Ind Suzuki, is not what you’d call a bike bursting with youth. It has been longer on road than I have been. So, understandably, it has developed a strict personality of its own. It’s deceptively light when you are parking it in for the day at 10 PM; and surprisingly heavy when you need to pull it out of a street parking lot at 10 AM blocking the road for almost a minute and causing much Benglur public outrage.

 

But something tells me this is more of my fault than the bike. I guess bikes can smell mistrust; like they say horses can smell fear. Or elephants, I don’t know which animal for sure. Ever since this idea dawned on me, I have been working on developing a ‘positive attitude’. I think there are signs that I am making slow but definite progress with the relationship building. While on Day 1 the cold starting took 15 minutes lead time, on Day 8 it has taken only 3. See, see, progress. The bike is (literally and figuratively) warming up to me.

 

What with all the preoccupation with the bike and Benglur traffic, Goa mercifully started taking a back seat

 

I think I am now safely at a stage of life where I can dish out a few pointers about riding on Benglur roads to the general populace. A few humble pointers:

 

1. Try not to run over living things. Especially human beings. They aren’t a sportive species; they make a hell a lot of noise when they are hit.
2. No matter how much you think he/she deserves it, do NOT show your middle finger to another person on the road. Especially if they are driving a much, much bigger vehicle than you are. (I say this out of bitter experience.)
3. When a cabbie heading to Bengaluru International Airport is continuously blaring, just let him pass; even if it is beyond laws of physics. Because if you don’t, he’ll keep blaring his horn (if it comes to that) for a kilometer at a stretch. I know it feels unfair, but it isn’t worth your ear drums.
4. Do not tag behind a BMTC Volvo bus. They have ultrasonic speeds. Even if you tag behind a trotting puppy on the pavement, you’ll travel faster. (Don’t take me wrong, I love BMTC buses. I practically spent my formative years in them. But I don’t think they should be used by our F1 team, that’s all.)
5. Do not assume things. Just because a particular stretch of road did not have pot holes yesterday, doesn’t mean it won’t have them today. Just because a road was two-way yesterday doesn’t mean it isn’t one-way today.

 

Petty little things they are all. Just keep them on mind and you will feel like a God riding on our roads – at a divine speed of 30 kmph on good days.