Enfielder

I think it was 25^th May, 2015, when me and Futane set out from Melghat. The left over casual leaves I put forward to rucha. Rucha sanap was the gyne consultant and the unofficial officer in charge of Mahatma Gandhi adiwasi dawakhana, Utavali. With that name ‘Utavali’, the exclamation of Nikita comes to mind “Arnab, look its Utawli”. I was like “yup, so what”. Coz I was jogging, and you aren’t supposed to talk while jogging. 

Whatever. During the whole tenure of 5 months at Melghat, we never came to know who in reality was supposed to be the officer in charge on paper. Anyway. Melghat was a screwed up place. And my fairy to carry me out of that place was my dear darling thunderbird 350. Sumeet gave bad reviews about the bike. He said he owned one. That dumb idiot used to bluff out a history that he took admission in igmc Nagpur and later gave up mbbs to carry out the family business. And that business prospect had dreams of opening the best bar at dharni. Duff dumb bluff bullshit. He even accused the bhans Enfield dealers of Amravati saying they don’t care about the customers. Till now, I am satisfied with my Enfield and my Enfield dealer.

I had dreams of taking out the bike to Pune to Mumbai to goa, and if possible to kanyakumari via kerala. That would have been in the fresh rains of july. So I needed to buy the bike by may to heat it up for one or two months and then set out. And then I was out of cash, as ususal. Had asked Futane for 50 thousand rupees. Let me introduce doctor abhijeet Futane to you. 

Lately I named him doctor ciplar, for his addiction to propranolol, both for himself and for prescription purpose. That bastard had almost killed a 58 yrs old lady who had complains of anxiety, not taking the asthma history into account. The guy would speak non stop, doesn’t matter you respond to him or not. Bit of a maniac. Reminds me of the Vector character from the movie Despicable Me. That would remind me of Aditi’s dialogue “sir u like to co relate every person to a movie character”. Yup. So Futane wanted to come with me to pauri garhwal. Lets take one last hit at Futane. Futane means chana in Marathi. And that’s probably what would make Futane and Nikita virtually bro and sis considering Nikita’s surname was bhugra which also means chana in Haryanvi, I guess, that’s what Futane told me.

So, we people were totally pissed off with hopless administration at the Melghat hospital, the nuisance of chhabra & the ass burning summer. Still I would have waited for the summers to pass off and take out the bike tour to western Maharashtra and Arabian sea coast. But the disgraceful living standards at the hospital campus forced Tiwari to prompt me to leave the place for pauri. Enter Deepak Tiwari. The happy go lucky batchmate of mine, always there to help you out. A bliss to have a friend like him. Guy is a pediatrician now.

I had booked the bike around February first week I guess. Picked it up on 8^th may. The bike did come within 2 months of booking, but hindering was my cash problem. Adding salt to the wound would be non sensible salary payment system of the ever screwed up khs. Every salary would come 1 month late unless you send a doctor out there to sevagram to do what an attendant or clerk is supposed to do.

Enter my riding skills. My bike riding history would definitely be marked all black and red considering how many bikes of other people I had dashed up in my college days. Melghat track, from Paratwada to Dharni was full of twists and turns. Specially mind those dangerous u turns. Those u turns were not even in one plane level, either uphill or downhill, total of 14-15 like them. With no barricades to protect you in case you lose the road. Hope the ‘lose’ spelling is right here, enter Ankita’s grammar Nazism ‘you have lose an o from loose’. A fall off the road would make you disappear off the cliff into the dense forests.

The first time I drove a vehicle in that hilly area was with Abhishek thakur, my room mate doc, that also was an activa scooty. The activa was 5 yrs old, with a history of being paralyzed for 2 yrs. When we guys arrived at the hospital, we saw pitiable condition of the activa. Thanks to abhishek and hamza for towing it to dharni for repair. And the activa flew from dharni to Amravati right after its repair. The ghat area between Paratwada to Dharni was 90 kms stretched. Paratwad to Amravati was some 50 kms. I remember the expression of the guy sitting at semadoh dhaba “Amravati tak jaoge.. activa se.. baap re.. bahut door hai sirji mat jao aise activa se”.  That was 7 am, when me and abhishek took our first stop. Down the hill, I drove. Abhishek was probably taking a nap sitting on pillion seat. It was one hell of a roller coaster ride. Good point was there weren’t any heavy vehicle coming from the opposite way that morning. The scooty had a weak brake, no horns, engine would be gulping petrol like anything, head lights were weak. With that down the hill, I just went away with the flow. I will mention it again and again, driving downhill is a tougher job than climbing up. Because up the track your vehicle isn’t gone with the current, so basically you have a fine control atleast uphill. Petrol consumption is definitely screwed up uphill. On our way back, abhishek drove up the track, upto semadoh, after that I took the reins. And then we spotted deers. They were crossing the road right on the outskirts of harisal. It was around 9:30 pm. It was one whole family crossing the road. And my scooty wouldn’t slow down. I did apply the brakes, when one little one came right infront of the vehicle. Made a cut, saved it. They were all red spotted ones. Very beautiful. Reached hospital. Told everyone about our first ride. Gifted one t shirt to Nikita, turned out to be an extra large one. Mind it I didn’t notice it while buying. With that t shirt on her, she looked like one hip hop artist.

We were waiting for our second ride. Come 8^th may. Purchased the bike. I drove on the plains. Abhishek took the reins where ghat started. When we were exchanging the seats, we made a stop somewhere in the forest area only. It was night. A total pitch black. You wouldn’t be able to notice the person standing right next to you. Abhishek – “sir aise me koi jaanwar agar utha k bhi le gaya to pata bhi nahi chalega.”  It took us time to ride back owing to our photography sessions. New bike new enthusiasm. But who would have imagined that a thunderbird would walk out of the show room to be brazen for a 140 kms hill ride. 

The bike attracted public attention as usual. The more the attention it garnered the more we would discuss “ispe na silencer lagwayenge, alloy wheels lagwayenge” blah blah blah. “tanki ko modify kar denge.” “sir rajputana modifiers se karwayenge.” “tyres mote lagayenge.” “tubeless waale.” Blah blah blah. We had taken one stop somewhere before Paratwada, to buy some fruits and water, it was 5 pm. We stalled the bike, walked to the shop, on returning we spotted a crowd of people gazing over something. On nearing we found it was nothing but the thunderbird. Querries flew in “sir kitne ki padi, kitna deti hai, naya model aya hai.” The most absurd statement that people still make and I get irritated is “bullet hai, nayi wali.” Damn you guys its not a bullet. The most memorable part of the night was my refreshment halt at Kolkas. It was 8 pm and I got dirty pressure and abhishek was not ready for stop in the midst of the dark forest and I wouldn’t listen. I was the one driving so I stopped it near the Kolkas board and disappeared in the dark with a water bottle. Abhishek kept shouting “agar sher aa gaya to mai bhaag jaunga sir.” Luckily no animal showed up. The bike started creating noise once we crossed harisal. It was coming from the engine, a metallic noise. Somehow we knew something got screwed.

Hospital people welcomed it. People would love to take it for test ride. Complaints did come about the noise. Different people, different opinions. 400 kms or 30 days was the criteria for its first servicing. Somehow the noise would constantly irritate the rider. Tiwari used his intelligence and decreased the accelerator. It did decrease the noise but the bike would stop without acceleration. I had to increase it back. The bike had gone 280 kms in one week. And I was wondering how to get eligible for its first servicing. Pawan sir advised to get it immediately referred to service centre. 

I always had the itch for a long ride. And that came in. It was pleasant evening that day. Few rainy clouds had hovered in. it was a bit windy. I wanted to go on a long ride. The problem with my riding capability was to balance the bike at slow speeds round the corners owing to my little height, my short legs would find it difficult to shove this 200 kgs elephant. My dad would constantly shout at me on the phone “don’t buy Enfield, it’s a white elephant.” But dad I would want to go on long rides. No other bike would apt as much the Enfield adapts for a long ride. The classic model did figure better in terms of my height and all. But for long ride comfort thunderbird would definitely suit the best. Its seat design. The chopper style. All over made a good cruiser model. I always needed my woodland tractor soled shoes for getting a good grip on the ground while sitting on this thunderbird.

So. That evening I just proposed Futane the idea of going to wardha and back. Futane said no owing to the chances of being marked absent from the campus. I just lacked one ignition spark, which came in, when I entered the room and abhishek was “lo Nikita ma’am aap se baat karengi.” “When are you guys coming for anesthesia posting?” “I don’t know, could be june.” “Ok, meet me whenever you come.” “Sure, bol to abhi aa jaun.” “Aa ja.”

Done. I am going. Abhishek and Futane nodded yeah, go. “We will see whatever comes.” “I will be back by tomorrow evening.”

It was 9:30 pm. Futane – “abe abhi niklega to wardha kab pahunchega?”

Wondering over the speed limit of 60 kmph and the distance of 320 kms, I said “subah 5 baje.”

I was packing my stuffs and doing the talk. It hardly took a few seconds to make up mind to go out on a night ride with a new bike. Had my dinner, walked out the gate. Took a look at the bike. It was half dark at the gates. The last light was shining on the rear wheels of my bike and beyond it would be the dark roads in midst of the dark forests. I just spoke to myself ‘what am I doing.’ 90 kms jungle hill ride. I would be alone. God knows what can happen and what not. And after that the highway. I had never driven anything on a highway that long at that time of the night. The last time I used to hit the highways was the Nagpur wardha one, a 80 kms one. That would feel like going around in your backyard. Because that was only thing we bikers would get to go walking out of the sevagram hostel.

I took a sigh. A bit trembling hands. I just said to myself ‘come on you don’t fear anything.’ Switched on the ignition button and my bike rode into the darkness. It was a warm night. I was still expecting to feel cold at some point. I carried my high school track suit in my bag. It was dark when I crossed lavada. Harisal forests were about to set in. Just a bit of fear did tingle into me. All those lines the people used to say about not to go into these areas alone at night, kept roaming in my head. I just looked at bike ‘buddy if you go okay then to hell goes what the people say. Carry me to my destination.’ I had to maintain the max speed below 60 kmph owing to its first servicing bounds. Anyway I couldn’t have dragged it furious in the hilly areas for sure. Took the first break at semadoh. The guy at the dhaba knew us. He knew two doctors from utawali would go out on adventure ride at any time on any kind of vehicle. It was 11 pm. The man looked at me, wished me and looked at the bike.

“Aaj akele ho sir?” “haan yaar.” “Aaj kaha tak ja he ho?” I laughed at him and said “aaj wardha jana hai.”

He just laughed back at me. Two boys were staring at me “sir aap utavali dawakhane se hai?” “haan.”

Then they kept gazing at the bike. Then followed the as usual queries of how much it cost how much petrol it drinks and all blah blah blah. Took one glass tea and on black cig. This was one thing I knew would have to make a habit considering long night rides. It was 11 pm. Nothing much was bothering me about my ability to sit tight on except the fact that left me wondering what I would be doing at 4 am. That’s the time when even the night guards would surrender to sleep. Throughout the jungle I kept a keen sight for some animal. None.

Everything was going right. I was making sharp turns at a good speed tilting my bike. Until one U turn almost killed me, when my rear wheel skidded, bike went off road, a few inches away from the edge. I don’t know how I brought the vehicle back on the road but the balance of the heavy bike had just showed in. I took a deep breath. Didn’t stop after that until Paratwada came. And it was raining there. Took stop at Punjab dhaba I guess. Again a tea glass and a black cig. Inspected the bike thoroughly. No scratches. A stone did hit me on my right heel, it was bit paining. I told myself ‘bach gaye.’ Seriously. Took a polythene bag to wrap up the clothes to not get wet from rain. Again set out. Next stop was at Amravati. Road from Paratwada to Amravati showed fields on both sides. It was dark now. I was keenly waiting for the city lights of Amravati to show up. On the outskirts of Amravati I enquired at a petrol pump for petrol who said city pumps won’t give petrol after 12 pm till 6 am. Had to talk at the highway pumps. My bike crossed 450 kms when I was roaming in the city of Amravati. The repair signal started ticking. The problem at that dead end of the night is that you cannot reliably stop at anyone on the streets asking for directions. It was 2 pm. My gps network wasn’t working. Luckily found two lads who showed the way to Nagpur highway. The cbi atm gave me headache by not dispatching me my money. And that’s how I left Amravati. I wasn’t gonna take the chandur rly road from Amravati for wardha coz it wasn’t showing up on my mobile gps. I was gonna take the Nagpur highway route to make right turn at talegaon to arvi to wardha. The national highway 6 was really something. A big broad lucratic four way lane. My petrol tank was full from a highway service station. And after that, throughout the NH6, me and the moon. It was a waxing gibbus I guess. No one else. I was missing a pillion rider to talk to. Legs on the leg guard, left hand freed, only right wrist was supported on accelerator. The bike’s comfort level just showed up. Its balance was like a magic. Its balance only saved me from being wiped off the cliff in the jungle tonight. Over all it was a beautiful bike. Its beauty was still to be seen. Kept a track on gps. Talegaon came. Left the fly over, took right turn. End of the beautiful roads. Enter the village roads. Bumpers. Still not as frustrating as the bumpers between Amravati and Paratwada. Once I reached Arvi, I smiled knowing I am near wardha. The clock was ticking 4 am. One hour to wardha. The road was very uneven. Somehow I had to make it in one hour. It got cold then. I wrapped up my track suit. Still I was feeling cold.

Jerking all the way, somehow wardha wasn’t showing up and I was getting frustrated. The mark that I was nearing the morning timeline was showing up with sightings of ladies cleaning the streets still dark and men going out with water cans in their hands into the fields. The dawn was nearing. I kept my bike at strict 60 kmph inspite of the uneven roads. Two things kept pestering me the late night. One the adamancy to reach sevagram before the daybreak. And second the dirty road wouldn’t let me speed up. Both the factors were opposing each other.  Frustrated I finally pulled up my bike near an old man who was going out to graze his buffaloes. Asked him how far is wardha. He was a toothless old chap, he said something chewing up almost all the words. All I could make out was that wardha was 15 mints far. I passed a sigh of relief. I drove ahead to find an old toll stop. That was the mark that I was about to enter wardha. That toll booth we guys used to encounter while going to mahakali. In the dark when did I pass mahakali and anji I didn’t even notice. One left turn and a right turn followed by another left and the paunar sawangi bypass showed up bringing a smile on my face. Hello wardha. It seemed like I reached my hometown. So many memories. Tandoor showed up on right hand. That was the only place where the 06 batch had the one and only full batch party. Look where we are now. That happened almost 8 years ago. Drove past arvi naka. Took left turn to dinshaws ice cream parlour and a right turn to the swimming pool followed by left turn towards sewagram. I just talked to myself. I know everyone here. Everyplace. It did feel like your own place. One year back when I was preparing for pre pg exams I didn’t want to come back to this place. And tonight I drove 300 kms from Melghat to here. Entered the college gate like a king. Slowly. Pulled up my bike infront of casualty. The whole casualty was empty. Looked into the ortho duty room to find a person sleeping with face covered by blanket. Surely it wasn’t kariya or kharat. Headed to O.T, only to find the whole place deserted as hell. It was 15 mintues past 5 am. Called up abhinav. No answer. Called up arjun to find him sleeping in his hostel room. Called up Nikita to hear a storm of scolding as to why I set out in the dead night alone. She said she was ill at hostel. I headed to the pg block. Rested my bike for few hours. Went to arjun’s room first who woke up with dirty mouth as to why I switched on the tube light. I let him sleep. Then went to kariya’s room, who woke to a big surprise with the first expression trying to recognize who I was and then “abe kitna daari bada liya hai be tu.”

I was literally shivering. The late night cold had been shaken off me. I switched off the fan in kariya’s room and went to sleep. Kariya rose after sometime exclaiming its hot and he needs the fan. The sun had shown up. I rose up at 7 am to pay a visit to my dear old c block. Shouted at the top of my voice “Tiwari..” and Vinamra Tiwari showed up. At first he thought that his in charge pg ahmad zabeeh was shouting. Vinamra came out of the room with a heavy face only to get enlightened up after seeing me. I was roaming in my sleeveless, was almost exhausted. Although I had to preserve my enthusiasm more for my return journey via Amravati where I was not only planning to put bike in servicing but also watch Piku. Tiwari came running  down, picked me up. The guy was a strong built up fellow. Then he took my thunderbird for a test ride. I forgot to tell him not speed up beyond 60 kmph. Then met mohit who came up saying I looked like sardarji because of my beard. Ankur constantly kept telling me to cut my beard. I would just nod my head. Then headed to meet Nikita. She had just woke up. She was standing at the girls hostel gate with the pillow cloth markings on her face giving an impression how hard she was sleeping. Gifted her two t shirts. These were small sized, unlike the last one. She laughed at the t shirt designs. She caressed her palm over the Enfield tank with a smile. The tank was covered with dust for sure. She asked the price. At my reply she uttered ‘so costly’. I said “all good things come costly only.” She said “the best things in life come free only arnab.” What a philosophical line to hit the morning. That line still rings in my head to the present date, and I would just look at my Enfield thinking ‘that line wasn’t for u buddy. Ofcourse the costlier a vehicle the better. Nikita’s lines were in some other meaning.’ Bided everyone goodbye. Nikita was supposed to gift me a ring which she said priyanka madam would carry for me to Melghat. I kept thinking it should have been a good one not apprising of the devil’s mindset.

Then I went to Goras bhandar. How could I miss the milk and bread of that place. A good breakfast that I always missed at Melghat. Headed out on return tour.  The morning was pleasant. I was expecting for the summer heat to show up. It did turn up when I was driving on the NH6. I wouldn’t speed up beyond 60 kmph. And all the rest of the vehicles would keep overtaking me. One innova showed up by my side with a kid staring at my bike. People would love the view of my bike except the dirty noise the engine was making. The one line of the yadav mechanic would keep ringing all the time in my head that no matter how much noise the engine would make the bike won’t stop. I trusted him and kept grazing the thunderbird. Reached Amravati. Ran to the bhans automobiles. One mechanic came running after hearing the dirty noise saying the oil filter is fucked up. Sandeep instructed the rest of the people to get the work done soon. I left the bike there to watch Piku. Nice movie. Something that Rishi said turned out to be a noticeable one, Amitabh Bacchan’s acting literally plotted the way an old Bengali dad would behave in reality. Rest of the characters were ok. Somehow Moushumi Chatterjee would still refuse to grow old. She reminded me how my mom used to get pissed watching her in every Bengali movie when I was a kid. And I really don’t know whats wrong with Soojit Sarkar pulling the legs of bongs in his every movie. Last time I watched it in Vicky Donor. God knows what connectivity he saw in a typical constipation act and being a Bengali. The movie would have better been named constipation only. Returned to bhans after the movie. Had bought one bike cover jumbo sized. My bike is a jumbo sized one. Sandeep brought me my bike again turned brand new. Sparkling, again. No engine sound now. I was happy. Bade everyone goodbye. Then set out for Melghat. As usual I hated the speed breakers of Amravati.

I was on the way to reach Paratwada when I spotted on my rear view mirror a truck was overtaking everyone fast speed. He neared me. I gave him side thinking he is hurry. But he won’t overtake me. He kept staying at my tail. I looked at my speedometer showing 60 kmph. I nodded I am not speeding beyond this. I came on the road edge. For 2 minutes the truck remained on my tail end. Then he slowly pulled at my side. I looked up at the navigator. He smiled at me pointing ‘nice bike’. I just laughed. Then he speeded away. People love this thunderbird. The stone edition did mark out the other polished up tanks. The only fear which would constantly strike me was the stone edition had no warranty. Any mark would permanent on it. That would make me think over my injury marks that I attained from the bike accidents I had in my past. Some marks should remain forever. That’s how you become a man from a kid. Shows you didn’t fear to venture out.

Made it to the ghats before the dark fell. Got the tank full. Was expecting some animal sighting, which didn’t happen sadly. Didn’t take any stop neither at semadoh nor harisal. Knew the sooner I get back the more rest I will get to take. I had to take a stop after harisal to relax my buttocks. Reached the hospital campus around 7:30 pm. Entered the room to see Tiwari smiling at me “thak gaye honge.” “saalo kitna ghanta chala mai.” Just wanted to show them that I was tired as hell when in reality I was excited to make a trip successful. Deep down the gut had a feeling it was just a warm up trip. I slept like a dead log of wood that night.

Priyanka patil ma’am came up after a few days to Melghat to give me a key ring which had an impression of a western latrine. Damn you. Written over the gift wrap ‘for your new thunderbird, with love from Nikita & Arjun.’  I wanted to kill someone.

Probably my third bike ride, was the Mad Max one. Initially I wanted to watch that movie in Nashik. Called up Rishi to tell him about my plan. Abhishek kept telling me “chale jao sir.” And Rishi.. Rishi was like “raasta kharab hai.. theatre accha nahi hai nashik me.. English me nahi milega tujhe.. bahut garmi hai nashik me..” and the last one “ghar aayega.. kitne baje pahunchega.. abe utne subah koi nahi uth ta” the last one was the dirtiest excuse to make me cancel my Nashik plan.

Abhishek and Futane had gone for visit. That was the first time two medical officers went for the fucking village visit. And that useless chhabra kept eating my head with her crappy excuses as to why there is no electricity in the campus. I just walked out of her meeting right on her face. Had heard she was searching me later, had set her gyne dogs to tell me to talk to chhabra which I never did. And they marked me absent for that day, my happy Mad Max day. What a movie. Really. Tom Hardy should be saying why he can’t get one role with a straightened face. But dude he just fits in those kind of roles aptly. The masked Bane from Dark Knight. Then this masked Mad Max. Before that the Bronson bald look and the tattooed dreaded built up look from Warrior. Tom Hardy just rocks it all. Some, not some, but lots of insane action scenes by the director in Mad Max. I just loved it. Had watched one superb post apocalyptic movie after Waterworld I guess. The decision to set out to watch that movie in Nagpur was another mad act of mine. Set out at 11 am. Sun heat scorching. Got the tank full at Paratwada. The Melghat jungles didn’t let me feel the noon heat at all. The heat got me after Melghat. Too hot it was. Took a break at Amravati to bite into some snacks. My water bottle had already got boiled. No use of it. I had to buy a new one on NH6. NH6 had some peculiar experiences for me. This time I was riding the same way, legs on the leg guard, left hand freed, right hand rested on the accelerator, ear phones humming music into my ears. Last time I was on NH6 travelling towards wardha, it was night 3 am. The moon accompanied me all the way, I was feeling cold. Everytime I felt lonely I looked up at the moon and smiled, it was a half moon then. This time, time 2 pm, superb summer heat. Helmet on head, white scarf to cover my neck, khadi shirt, jeans below, woodlands below that. I was speeding at 70 kmps this time. 70 kmph looked better. Rolled my hands on the big tank of my thunderbird wondering how hot the engine would have become now. Just whispered ‘roll on buddy.’ The entry to Nagpur was beautiful. The Fun n Food village sight brought back tons of college time memories. There was a lake on the left side of highway before touching the city area. The road led straight to Cinemax. Another spot with too many memories. The best one was when me Ankush Ankur Shridhar Bagga Ankita Nikita had come for shweta madam robin sir marriage. And the number movies we would turn up to watch at cinemax would be numerous, Mission Impossible with Steve, Prince of Persia and Avatar with Rathod, Dark Knight with Avin. Hangover 2 and Kung Fu Panda 2 with Rishi. “Scars don’t heal, wounds heal” “Then what happens to the scars?” “I don’t care what happens to the scars.” The Shen Kung fu panda dialogue. “Here comes my biggest enemy.. stairs.” Me and Rishi would just roll laughing. I used to cut that stair dialogue at Baghel sometimes.

Enquired to know if I could drive through the variety square market to the cotton market. Did that. Finally reached Empress City. It was 5:30 pm. Movie was at 8 pm. What to shop. Wanted to buy a Wolverine key ring, thinking that’s the one thing I always have to stare at where lonely highways hit me. And look at what the fuck Nikita gifted me. Damn Wolverine key chain was costing 350 rupees. Again. Short of money. My all time story. And I bought an apple key ring for Nikita. Ah that was a cheap one. God knows why would a plastic made Wolverine key chain would cost 350 rupees. Watched the movie. Then, set out for my night journey.. again. What I hated the most about night journeys was the late night tiredness. That would creep into your skin like it would kill you to surrender to bed immediately. The late night teas at the dhabas would help you out then. But many fucking dhabas would also resort to sleep after 3 am. Then wait for the dawn to break in. That day break shine would be like a consolation prize for driving whole night. Fucking I should change my key ring to Batman during my night drives. How come Bruce Wayne won’t feel sleepy after a day time heavy gym. Might be on caffeine amphetamines. Crazy thoughts keep running whole during night rides. I hit the Melghat jungle at 3 am. Knew would reach hospital by 4:30 am if I ride okay. Kept the bike 40 kmph even at the dirty turns in the ghats. Knew somehow have managed to master it well. A stop in the jungle at that time would mean danger. Not a single vehicle light showed up through out the jungle route. Still I was wishing to see some animal. Remembered the “animal..” shout of Aditi during our Kolkas tour, and a sambhar ran across the street. Hamza was at the wheels. Everyone had got so excited that we forgot to slow down our bolero to see the deer as the deer crossed the street and stopped and kept staring at our vehicle. Futane couldn’t make out what it was, he was on alprax or propranolol effect surely. Nikita was in the centre back seat saying “my mom used to say if a deer would cross your way it would mean bliss for you.” The sambhar was shining bright in the full moon night. Second time I saw a sambhar was when I was returning back from Khandwa in the bolero, and I was drunk at that time. But mind it I had seen the sambhar.

No animal sighting during my night ride on my return way from Mad Max. Touched the hospital gate exact at 4:45 am. Did it. Walked up to nokdar to get the gates opened. I had to go for visit at 7 am. Retired to bed for just 1 hour to wake up with weary eyes for village visit. Would recite to the visit sisters and the driver about my bike rides, my bike and how I hate the fact that my helmet doesn’t cover my beard. My beard would get scorched in the summer heat. I used the scarf beneath the helmet to protect my beard.

The ride of my life was still waiting. I always wanted the first mega bike trip to be from Melghat to Pune to Mumbai to goa, if possible to kanyakumari. What I didn’t know was that my bike rides would be to the Himalayas. Today as I write all these I sit on the cold lonely mountains and plan my trips around Delhi Chandigarh Jaipur. I am still not getting the dare to step out for Leh Ladakh. My bike needs lots of work done.

Enter 25^th May 2015.

The decision to quit services at Melghat was taken on 24^th may. Surely no one could have obstructed the resignation from job. One thing I was sure of was that chhabra will do something stupid to create a headache for me later. You can’t expect anything better from that hopeless old lady. Futane had agreed to leave Melghat as well, to join pauri. The sevagram dean office wasn’t giving permission to join any other centre with their joining letter. Narainpur ram Krishna mission opened two seats for us, pauri had also opened two seats, one male and other female. But all these new seats were to be considered as external candidature seats as khs wasn’t permitting change of centre in a period of one year. Futane was in dilemma of what to do. I was hardcore sure about leaving Melghat. My parents told me to go to narainpur instead of pauri. Their impractical reason was that pauri mountains will get washed away by cloudburst landslides once I reach there. The illogical statements of my parents would never invite any debate to reason with them, ever.. Dad is adamant. Mom never stepped out of the house, she never liked to roam around. Narainpur would have been a jail house considering the naxal and military activities around that area. Why would an Enfielder choose a naxal suffering area over the Himalayas. To hell went my parents’ opinions. I told Futane to pack up bags and be ready by 25^th noon. We are going north. The nokia map of my nokia 6300 was everything to guide me. Earlier we had decided to take the NH3 from Indore to Delhi to haridwar to pauri. Then we changed our plans, we were going to Amravati to pick up the bike papers, then to sevagram, basically to meet our bosoms and pay a fruitless visit to the ever fucked up khs dean office.

The night before stepping out on the bike tour I just reciprocated what my position was gonna be the very next day. I was gonna be a jobless fellow, with no money in my pockets, biking from central india to north. Borrowed ten thousand rupees from Satav sir. The height of insanity in this tour was that Futane expected me to show my face at pauri and then return back to Melghat immediately to take my bags with me. The linear distance from Melghat to pauri on map showed some 1200 kms. So Futane expected the two way road trip to be of 2400 kms and to cost within ten thousand rupees for two people. That was bullshit. Even I was thinking bit same.

It was 25^th may. Literally speaking it was tough to think about the journey I was gonna start. We had no idea about the towns and cities we were gonna hit on the way. Sagar Gwalior Jhansi agra haridwar after that the mountains. The mountains created more dilemma. I kept asking Tiwari how the Uttarakhand mountain roads were gonna be. I wished they shouldn’t be like the Melghat mountain roads. Tiwari once made the exclamation to join at chamoli coz that would get me more stipend considering it’s a tougher area to reach and I also made up my mind once to do so. Chamoli was near badrinath, hell tough area to ride up to. I had no idea then about that. I emptied my back pack. Took one pair of everything, two shirts, two jeans, two t shirts, two jackets. It was hot as hell noon at Melghat. Usually we would always prefer to stay indoors in such a season. With no electricity to roll the fans, life was shit at Melghat. Excitement and happiness was indeed there to leave such a place, so was the fear of rolling out into the unknown, sadness was just looking back at the happy moments we had at Melghat with friends. I had to leave utavali around 3 pm to reach Amravati royal Enfield showroom before 7 pm. My 9 years old woodland shoes had worn out its tractor sole. Got that sealed at dharni. I needed those pairs for a safe journey. Packed up my articles in the back pack, was waiting for Futane to show up with his once. And the bastard showed up late with a heavy load of family utensils which ranged from shoe polish to fair and lovely cream, his fruit squash bottle, bath scrub and what not. There was no space left in my back pack and that did not stop Futane from packing up even more stuffs. That ended with me and hamza shouting at Futane to minimize the stuffs and take only necessary things.

“ye shoe polish ka kya achar daalne wala hai”

“abe black sandal le rha hoon na. polish kaise karung bina uske”

“80 kmph k speed pe bike bhagegi highway pe garmi me din bhar, raat ko sona hi hai. To tere chappal kaun dekhega be”

Somehow made all the stuffs fit into the back pack. I had thought of carrying the back pack on our shoulders, which changed after we took the bike out of the stand. Abhishek and hamza came up with the idea of tying the bag on the side foot rest for the pillion driver. They tied that hard with whatever ropes they could possibly find at that moment. Rucha madam and saima came to bade goodbye. The wind was blowing hot. I took a test ride, found the bag absolutely stable. Futane climbed up. Bade everyone goodbye. We set out. It was hard, very hard to imagine that we were gonna cover over one thousand kilometers in days to come and reach the Himalayas. I took up some confidence. Futane sat still. The bike didn’t show any signs of being loaded. Rode steadily. Both of us had worn khadi shirts. Khadi shirts really suited better than other textiles in such extreme weathers.

The bike horn started blowing by itself while we were in the midst of Melghat hills. The horn wire had got loose and touch the silencer which was red hot, which caused the melting and sticking of the horn wire with the silencer tube. Fixed it manually by tightening the band around the horn wire. . I did feel bad when I was passing through the forests around kolkas and semadoh. I kept telling Futane “bearish me ye banjar area jannat bann jati hai, charo taraf se pani behta hai.” I had planned earlier to enjoy my stay at Melghat in rains which didn’t seem like happening now. Rains were still two weeks far and spending a single day at utavali without electricity and water was hell, specially with that kind of hospital administration. I just wished the place for wich I had set out for should be better . Passed the hills to enter Melghat, didn’t take any stop. Futane started nagging while entering paratawada that he felt nauseating. I said I won’t stop before Amravati. Then Futane complained of headache. I again denied to take a stop. When we were about to enter Amravati, I slowed my bike very much at the speed breakers which led to hitting of a scooty on the rear end of my rear mud guard. I asked Futane what was that sound, did we hit anything. Futane said no. I got down, checked behind to find a tiny scratch at the rear end. The scooty was running at great speed without good brakes leading it to hit my bike. The scooty had run away after that. The scratch was unnoticeable though. I still wished such incidents should not happen in future. Reached Amravati. Picked up the necessary papers from the bhans automobiles. Got the bike checked. Told them about my plans. Sandeep wished me well. And we set out. Wanted to see a saddle bag, saw just one piece and bought it. After that we had sugarcane juice on request of Futane. And Futane collapsed at the juice bar with one glass. I was wondering what to do with this guy, would it be better to go without Futane or with him. Going with a guy assured safety on the route. Going without him assured freedom. And if also to cut him off, but how with what excuse. I let that upto him if he wanted to accompany further on the trip or not. We left Amravati. Caught the NH6. Futane was pleased to see the grand size of the highway. Kept speeding at 75 kmph. Reached talegaon. It was 8 pm. Took halt to dinner at a dhaba. “wardha yaha se ek ghanta hai.” Futane wont reply back. The guy looked done. “bhai ye to bas trailer tha abhi to poori movie baki hai. Abhi teri ye haalat hai to aage kya karega.”  Futane finally spoke “mai dekhta hoon. Mere paas helmet nahi tha na isliye.”

Going out on such routes I always preferred to get all over covered. Full sleeves, scarf, helmets. Some had told me to get gloves which I couldn’t though. Often see guys speeding on the highways with half sleeves. I just smile at them ‘dude you are killing yourself.’

Reached wardha at 9:30 pm. Futane went to Piyush to collect his room keys. While I drove to the hostel. Met Aniket kharat. The guy welcomed me then ran to see the bike. Futane showed up after sometime. Kharat immediately noticed the nauseating looks on Futane’s face. “bhai tu soch le tu aage ja payega ki nahi. Tere bas ki baat nahi hai ye.”

I walked up to Vinamra’s room. Tiwari sawan welcomed me. Chatted with them for hours relentlessly. Didn’t seem I travelled 300 kms at all. Don’t know when we surrendered to bed. The last time I slept in Vinamra Tiwari’s room I remember Anil baghel too was there with me and we kept chatting the same way relentlessly whole night and I don’t remember when I collapsed to nap and started murmuring in dreams to be complained in morning by both of them that I was speaking with them while I was sleeping and they were awake.

Woke up next day morning to wash up the clothes. Tiwari wouldn’t go to posting. I went to Goras bhandar for breakfast. After that the bank works followed by the dean office. The motherfucking dean office as expected denied giving me permission to leave Melghat and to join pauri. At the same fucking time the motherfucker dean wouldn’t take one fucking action at improvement of living conditions at Melghat. I bade the fucking dean office a fuck off. These fuck head doctors would be given a chance to seat their asses on administrative posts and then these fucktards would fuck up with all the students. Given a head high esteem as a good operating doctor, then be limited at that position only, why play fuck and hide with the young students. Have seen how tomorrow’s high esteemed doctors behave in their youth age. All typical A type personalities. Every dean of all medical institutes would give back a similar kind of feed back. Fuck you all fucking deans.

Spent the evening on a bike ride around wardha with Manish kashyap.

 That guy looked sturdily well fitted on my bike considering his heavy built. Returned back to spend most of the time on Arjun’s lappy to fill up my shuffle with songs. Needed good songs to keep me awake for my night trips. I knew I won’t get I Tunes anyway sooner to refill my shuffle. Then headed to Tiwari’s room to again chatter with him whole night. Every now and then both of us reminded each other about the next days journey but the slumber won’t come and we kept talking. 2 am. 3 am. Then I said let me close my eyes for a bit now. 3:30 am. I decided to go out then. Packed up my bags, then felt a little sleepy so went back to bed to wake up after half an hour.

“doctor you can come up to us and we will arrange a joining for you. There will be no problem.”

“ye kya bol rhe ho sir.”

“us pauri k dean ne aisa kaha mujhse aur isliye mai ja raha hoon.”

“koi dikkat nahi hogi sir. Ab wapis kab aana hoga.”

“aaya kabhi to bike se hi aaunga. Par yaar mai ye aaj kya karne ja hoon mere samajh k baahar hai. Bas raaste me bike ko kuch na ho.”

Vinamra kept laughing. Futane had cancelled his Uttarakhand plans after my meeting reviews with the fucktard dean of sevagram. The Jnbh gym still stayed the same way. Met some juniors, fresh exciteers for gym, you know 3^rd sem always invites people to try new stuffs. People didn’t play much cricket now infront of the mess like it used to be at times of Vineet Singh, Navneet Ateriya, Anuj Mundra, Jiwan Kinkar sir, Manish Borasi sir.

Manish kashyap woke up early that morning when I was gonna leave with one sole purpose and that was to tie my saddle bag on the rear seat of my bike. Vinamra gave the bike a kick start. I bade both of them goodbye.

“ab to ye Harley lag rahi hai.” – Vinamra

That was the adieu line that set us laughing as I rode away. The dawn was about to break. It was a journey into the unknown. I kept the Linkin Park Roads Untraveled song in my mind. I did sing the opening lines wrong but it did serve some purpose.

‘Weep not for the roads untraveled.’ That’s the actual line, where as I sung it ‘Fear not the roads untraveled.’

The Paunar road looked nostalgic. So many rides on this road man. So many. So many memories. So many tales. So many tales heard and remembered. Some were the best ones. The water pipe canal on the left side of the road to Paunar just after crossing the railway crossing was place the where me Baghel Akash Rahul Vedant Tushar used to come to play La Mud ina, in the fresh rains. The Paunar railway line crossing usually used to be the place where we would keep our coins on the track.

After that a right turn towards Selu. The fly over was the spot where me and swapnil rathod had bike accident eight years ago. After Selu there used to come the left turn towards Bor dam and the Hingna way towards Nagpur. The sun came visible when I was around Keljhar. It was red and fresh. I didn’t stop to take a snap of the that cause I had long way to go and enough occasions like that would come and most importantly I was in deep hurry to reach Jabalpur before the noon heat.

The Khadki Hanuman mandir and pakodi shops also had tons of memories restored in them. The Saqi bar came after that. That used to be the patent place for us to sit and booze. The antics of drunk Akash during Ankush’s fairwell party, the bursting of bike tyres of Sridhar, my teary beer sessions with Prashant singh, loading up while on way to Nagpur, loading up for booze party at Jnbh with Vinamra, the place also had lots of memories. After that came the spot where I had dashed Akash’s red pulsar. Then came Butibori, the sign board up showed Jabalpur to be some 400 kms away. And I speeded up my bike. The NH 7 had shown up. I decided to take the right turn at the Nagpur bypass. I took it and the road was a never ending road. I kept speeding and the end of the road was nowhere visible nearby. My stupid mobile gps stopped getting network. Helplessly I kept speeding. Took the first dhaba stop for some parathas and a glass of milk. Asked them the way to Jabalpur, they said go straight. These highway side dhabas were the places where truck drivers would retire late night halting their trucks infront. And these truck drivers used to be huge built fat, sleeping in dirty vests and lungi on the rope cots. Two trucks that were halted there showed Punjab number plates. It was really wonderful to think how long these truck drivers go.  

The NH7 connected Varanasi to Kanyakumari via Jabalpur Nagpur and Bangalore. I wanted to take the way to Kanyakumari, some other day, on that day I was busy reaching Paurigarhwal for a job to fill my empty valet.

The point where I met the road which came from inside the Nagpur city was around Ramteke. Ramteke had some big lakes around. The Ram temple could be visible on the right side on a hill top. This road reminded me how me Ankush Shridhar Amit Yogi made the Pench trip in Mohit’s car with no spare clothes or stuffs to spend two days and one night in cold December 2008. I was waiting for the Pench jungle to show up. The hot summer had dried up more than half of the lakes and the forests. My bus trips to Jabalpur when parents used to stay there, used to show me wide expanse of the roadside lakes and too thick dense forests of Pench. The Pench forests stretch was too large. 

Deforestations could easily be spotted in summers. The road also turned bad, pit and potholes. There came a spot where some mischievous creature had put empty beer bottles in the mid road. The road was known to me. The Pench jungles ended to make wait for the Seoni four way lane highway.

I took a halt somewhere after Seoni to check the straps of my saddle bag which had started wearing out due to constant rubbing against the rear tyres. Was lucky to find a cobbler on a highway side village. A conversation with the cobbler attracted the some of his mates pondering over the bike and how I am gonna make the long ride to Uttarakhand.

The heat had started turning in. After a few hours the loo started blowing. It was really hot. The roads were deserted. The winds were accompanied with dust. The roads had beautiful river valleys which would glitter up in rains making them look like some scenarios from the movie Twilight. The river could be seen twingling into the open fields. It used to be the time around 2009, I used to come to Jabalpur by bus, used to love these scenes in rainy season. I used to like the movie Twilight then. Today I find it rubbish. Every trip to Jabalpur to meet my parents used to be with a different mindset. In 2011 I returned home to tell my parents how I had flunked in my final year. It was a hard time then. Dad was gonna retire and he had to pay one more semester fees. Once I had told Kriti, my landlord’s cute daughter that I was planning to come Jabalpur by bike. Its been three years since then. Kriti later became a way too serious art of living disciple giving up the worldly connections. Had no contact with them after my parents left Jabalpur. And I was planning to pay them a visit this time, if time permits. Three years ago it was when I had planned to bike to Jabalpur from Wardha. The idea created ripples in my hostel prompting seniors to tell me not to make such plans. Come on. Sandeep Meena and Bhavya Sirohi sir used to roam around half of the country, but that used to be with their cars and I was planning one with my bike. People fear a lot. This time I was really lengthening a tour almost half stretch of my country on my bike.  

It was getting hotter. Biking was getting difficult then. The hot loo was penetrating through my shirt. The saddle bag was creating problems getting scratched due to constant rubbing against the right side of the rear tyres. The bike had a guard on its left side and nothing on its right, the modern sports bike look concept surely screwed up the cruising style. I had to transfer all my belongings from right pocket to left pocket of the saddle bag. I had to rush to Jabalpur before the bag actually would get torn. Saw the board showing the name Bargi dam. My dad had come cruising here once. Narmada river really big sized here. Had taken one stop before entering Jabalpur at a dhaba from where I called up the Royal Enfield service centre at Jabalpur Napier Town to fix an appointment for my bike servicing. I entered Jabalpur around 1 pm. It was very hot noon. The temperature could have been 44 degrees. Drove straight to the Royal Enfield service centre to get the second servicing done. The bike had crossed 3000 kms, eligible for a second job card. Adding to that I wanted a guard on the right side of the rear wheel. I got that. Took a light nap at the customers’ restroom. The guys asked me about my bike tours. I lied to them telling them I had been to Goa avoiding any suspicion in their minds about my being an amateur at bike tours. The bike job took five hours. It became dark. It was six pm. I had made up my mind to drive now in the night only. The day heat had got pestered.

Got the directions of Kachnar City. The locality brought back old memories, the road to the Shiv temple, I used to run six kilometers every morning there. Halted bike infront of Manoj uncle’s house, my old tenant. Entered the gates. Clicked the calling bell. I knew it would bring a weird expression on their faces looking at my big beard. Aunty opened the door to ask me what I wanted. I told her remember me, I used to stay upstairs three years ago. Aunty smiled, calling everyone to meet me. Uncle came up to call me Ramdev baba owing to my beard look. Rohit, their son walked up, the guy had grown six feet tall. Then came Kriti. She asked if I finally got ortho pg as I had told her once about my ortho aspirations. I said no. It becomes difficult to introduce people to the aspirations of doing a pg in a non clinical branch. People expect you to become a surgeon orthodoc paediatrician etc etc. Stuffs like becoming a pharmac pg just to take out time to do gym and becoming a bodybuilder, goes unpalatable for the people. Absolutely unpalatable. People would stare at me as if I were an alien if I tell them pharm plus bodybuilding stuff. Come on, I am mad. So pardon me.

May end.. it was 28^th May I guess. I don’t know what was the holy occasion for the family to offer evening prayers at Narmada banks at Gauri ghat. They left for prayers and I left for my further journey. They bade me goodbye. I had to find a tailor or a cobbler to stitch my saddle bag, get a final work done on the saddle bag. I found one at the address told by Manoj uncle. The guy was wrapping up, it was 8:30 pm. I requested him saying I had a long way to go. That statement of mine was followed by flooding queries about what I do where am off to how is the bike etc etc.. People used to ponder over the thunderbird as if it was a Harley stuff. Then there was a photo session with the tailor’s family. The tailor wasn’t ready to take any tip but I insisted, gave forty rupees remembering the charges of the cobbler I had met in the Seoni highway side village. The saddle bag looked good to go now.

I left Jabalpur byside of Bhedaghat. If it was day time I would have surely gone to the spot. Its been two times I think I had been there. Last time Navneet had accompanied me and my parents. First time I was there with my dad back in 2004. The marble rocks are constantly been cut out there.

After bhedaghat what followed was the state highway and I kept praying the roads to be worthy driving. There wasn’t any problem though. I kept driving into the night. 10 pm. 11 pm. 12 am. 1 am. I was just remembering the last time I made such a night ride was from Melghat to sevagram. It was NH6. I wanted to touch the NH3 tonight. I had filled up some nice songs in my shuffle to keep my eyes open for the whole night. Breakaway, Kelly Clarkson. Last Masquerade, Linkin Park. Boulevard of broken dreams, old one, heard too much, yet suited my that trip. Walk On, U2. Safri Duo track came in to provide some pumps.Marilyn Manson, Anti Christ superstar, Beautiful People. Phantom Planet, California, Orange Country soundtrack, that song used to bring me memories of Mischa Barton. Santana, Chad Kroeger, Into the night. Take another one from Santana, Smooth with Rob Thomas. As I neared Sagar, I was in no mood to halt in the town but I was feeling cold and too much sleepy. I had four glasses of tea at dhabas till the clock hit 2 am. The conditions forced me to retire the night. Took the left turn, left the bypass, entered Sagar. It was difficult to locate a hotel. It 2:30 am when I checked in. I fell like a dead log of wood on the bed. I hadn’t slept the previous night as whole I kept gossiping with Vinamra, then faced the day heat on way to Jabalpur. I had to be exhausted. Manish’s and Tiwari’s messages had come on watsap asking me how far I made it.

Next day I woke up at 12 pm. Walked out of the hotel to find the noon heat like a furnace. And I was in the centre of the busy buzzing town market. When I had entered the hotel at night the surrounding appeared as quiet as some cold cemetery. Checked out of the hotel to make my way to a number plate shop. Got the work done, then set out for Jhansi. 

The roads were great. Frequent views of hills and slight turns. Some dry thorny forests. Knew the area around Jhansi Gwalior would have shown me some old forts if it would get dark. It did get dark. I had entered U.P by the dusk. That road was gonna keep changing through M.P, U.P, a bit of Rajasthan, again M.P, finally leading way to U.P. The night fell. My road was showing way to Bhopal and Jaipur constantly where I was searching for Jhansi Gwalior. That sign came at  a crossroad. I had crossed one forest area in between. At night the high hills in the forests looked like as if I was biking into the mouths of a big dark blue whale. I should have seen the scenarios at day time. I did miss that. One halt at a dhaba introduced me to a fellow well dressed in shirt pants who greeted me with ‘sir’ saying he noticed that I was a doctor going out on bike tour with a beautiful bike. I just smile at him. Asked him the directions, something that I used to do at almost every dhaba before leaving. Crossed Jhansi through the bypass. It was 8 pm. I had hit against boulder lying warily on the narrow track at a toll booth. The leg guard had moved back to move up the gear pad. I needed a mechanic. I wanted to stop at Gwalior. But the bypass made me track out of the city from side. I saw a accident there on the bypass. An oil tanker had caught fire, exploding like a bomb. The flames were almost 50 ft high. No one survived near the truck. I heard two people died, the driver and his mate. That was sad. The oil and rubbers had been thrown some meters around the site. That stuff had blocked the flyover. There was a crowd around it. Trucks had lined up to a long distance on both sides of the accident site. At such moments these truck drivers are your companion on the highway. They keep signaling. They keep telling you how the roads are gonna be. Some trucks were making a u turn out of the flyover to take a narrow lane beneath the flyover to continue their journey. I followed them. That brought me out of the Gwalior surroundings. It was half moon night. The black smoke from the accident site swept the half lighted up might sky like large snake. The site could me seen kilometers away from the site. It was a pitiful site.   

It was 11 am when I took halt at a dhaba outside Gwalior for dinner. To my utter surprise the dhaba had all kids working. All aged between 6 yrs to 10 yrs. There were some six or seven kids like that. They were constantly subjected to the abusive languages of the owner and the other customers. The place had attracted some drunkards who had come from the Gwalior city only. A fat drunkard joined me on my dinner table, asking me where I was upto. I said Agra. He said “sir isse aage mat hi jao, raasta safe nahi night drive k liye, waise vi aap akele ho to mat hi jao. Raat to bikers nikalte nahi hai aur aapka helmet dekh k mujhe laga ki aapko tokna chahiye.” I said thank u for his advice. I was an adamant fellow. Surely I wasn’t gonna listen to him although I did him a little creepy to follow my plans to drive whole night. I saw one old man aged around 60 years, showing hand for the highway vehicles to slow down on the highway. It was 1 am. The tracker going ahead of me didn’t stop. It was pitch dark around the highway spot where the old man was standing asking for a ride. I did slow down a bit on nearing the old man when I spotted the man’s head was bleeding and he had tied a white clothe on his head to stop the bleeding. I looked around. There were no vehicles lying to mark if any accident had happened. It was confusing what really happened with the old fellow. I didn’t stop either, just watched the scene and drove away. The Chambal Ghati was waiting to welcome me ahead. The area around Dhaulpur Morena was surely not a safe road to travel at the dead end of the night. I went ahead.

The Chambal ghati came with a cool breeze and blue moon lit wide expanse on both sides of the bridge was riding on. The water was reflecting at some places. I was missing another scenario. I should have crossed these view points in day time, but was doubtful if would have ok to drive in the day heat in those parts. Took another halt at around 2 am at dhaba where people instructed me not to venture out alone biking ahead at that end of the night.

“sir aage mat jao akele. Yahi ruk jao. Chahiye to hum aapko subah 5 baje utha denge, kisi truck wale k saath nikal jana.”

I used to pay no heed at those suggestions. These suggestions used to flow in at almost every dhaba I used to halt for tea. Usually the dhabas also retired to closure around 3:30 am. I crossed all to ride on NH3. I wanted to see the GT road, NH2. I entered Agra at 5 am. The police check posts were a lot in number. My entry into the city brought a fellow who kept biking on my side with a kid sitting on his rear seat saying something to me and showing me a photograph. I raised my helmet to see what shit was happening at 5 am. The man and the kid were trying to invite me to a hotel they knew. I said no and speeded ahead. Ahead was no less. The auto walas pissed me. Imagine biking on the empty streets of Agra with three auto walas at you tail end shouting “sirji hum aapko acche hotel le jayenge” at 5 am. Called up Arjun, he said stay some where near the rly station. Luckily I spotted the royal Enfield show room at Baluganj. Checked in a hotel nearby. Same set of questions. Sirji you are a doctor, where are you going, where coming from, so long bike trip, bike, how what, blah blah blah.

Retired to bed to wake up at 12 pm, got fresh, had lunch, again off to bed, to get up at 3:30 pm. I wanted to visit Taj mahal, went out only to find out its closed since it was Friday. Made way to the Agra fort. Had visited Taj and Fort back in 2009 I think, with Anurag, Avin, Deepak, Amit sir and some juniors. We had come Agra at that time for Arjun’s sister’s wedding. That time we had the 2 megapixel mobile camera to shoot the whole trip. This time I had dslr. But the Taj was closed. Drove to the Agra fort, roamed inside the fort. I had the dslr carry bag hung on my backside with my both mobile phones in it. The camera was in my hand. I got too mesmerized to take snaps of the Taj from the Fort when some asshole took away the Nokia mobile out of my bag. I realized that on my way out of the Fort. The Nokia mobile was the one in which I used to do all the internet works, gps and all. Now without it I became a blind man travelling around. The other mobile, Samsung one, I didn’t like that one at all. The asshole took away the Nokia one, leaving the Samsung one for me. I had lost all important notes and pics through that mobile. Mood had turned gloomy. Returned back to hotel to register a complaint at Baluganj police station. Then headed to cyber café to change all the passwords, opened all accounts, that was when I read that one and only comment on Cheap Lament post on my blog. It had been months that I had opened my blog. The comment surprised me less and rather added some entertainment on an occasion when my mood was down because of the mobile lost. My head was so much angered that I didn’t want to stay at Agra anymore. Checked out of the hotel. The people around advised me the Aligarh Meerut Muzzafarnagar  route not safe to ride at night alone. But who cared. I just didn’t want see the Agra people anymore. Someone had rightly said ‘India k saare chor Delhi Agra me hi milte hai.’

It was difficult to make way out of Agra. The city had crowded roads. I had left Agra around 9 pm. One uncle showed me the way out of Agra saying “just follow me.” Agra made way for Hathras. My back pack was now showing tear. Somehow these bags were creating problems on my tour. The back pack was seven years old one though. Luckily, spotted one tailor on the Hathras outskirts. It was 10:30 pm and the guy was looking for pack up when I showed up infront of him. He again flooded the same very queries, how is my bike, how is my job, how is my tour and etc. Again this fellow insisted on not taking any tip for stitching up my back pack. Yet I paid him forty rupees and bade him goodbye. I stopped at one dhaba after Hathras. Awesome mix parathas and dal makhani. At just 80 rupees. My stomach was full. That was the dhaba food that made North India famous. I wondered it really better to have food in such dhabas rather than spending money  in the towns and cities. Aligarh came up after that. Tiwari had advised me to follow the bypass route out of the city citing that the city will slow me down. Tiwari had also instructed me not to follow any advises of the rickshaw wala as they will direct me to go through the city. I did just the opposite, ending up twisting inside the city roads. I had told Tiwari that I had lost my gps mobile directions and he said that he will tell me the ways through phone. Somehow I had the picture of the map in my head. I knew the towns I had to go up to. Aligarh would have been followed by Meerut the Muzzafarnagar followed by a right turn to Roorkee, followed by Haridwar. I left Aligarh to come up on the Delhi Haridwar highway. That route welcomed me when a car behind me spanked its headlights at me. I was already rushing at 90 kmph. I gave way for the car to overtake me. The car flew at a speechless speed. I again tried to come on right side of the road as the slow speed trucks were rolling on the left side. Another car from behind me honked. I gave way to that as I saw 3-4 cars speeding away at 100 plus speeds. That was followed by a stream of four wheelers speeding like wind. I watched them for some time after which I accelerated at 100 plus speed. But these cars literally jet their way at even more speeds. I thought this scenario would happen for a few minutes, but this thing had started at 11 pm and continued till morning. The road was an awesome one. After sometime I got used to the high speeds. The whole tenure I kept watching the four wheelers, Swift desire, Xuv, Fortuners, Scorpio, etc etc.. all kept speeding away at 130 plus speeds. The highway side dhabas here were not like the rest of the dhabas that I had seen through out my journey. All lighted up. Be it 2 am or 3 am or 4 am. The dhabas here would be seen buzzing with people. I took one stop at a dhaba around 3 am, the dhaba was simply houseful. Asked a man who was sitting with his family where he was upto. He replied Haridwar. I took a tea glass in my hand and gazed at the road. If a single being would appear by mistake also on the road, it would surely be run over by the super speeding vehicles. The families that would come out of this cars taking halt at the dhabas also would walk out of the cars with their children, babies crying. Too much chirping around. As if I had entered some festive zone. I don’t know whether it was any special occasion to pay visit at Haridwar or it just happened like that all round the year. I kept driving after that. The car number plates showed them coming from mostly Delhi area, some from Punjab, some from Haryana. These people were definitely not necessarily rushing for Haridwar in particular. The mountains had the four dhaams, alongwith the Hem Kund Sahib. Some might even be making way for Dehradun. The way for Dehradun got cut around Roorkee I think, I don’t remember exactly. After that the straight road showed the left over distance to Haridwar. I kept driving. The clock hit 4 am. I was feeling sleepy surely. 4:30 am. I was waiting for the dawn to set in. It got a bit lighted up. That was when I was crossing the Ganga river. The eucalyptus trees on the road side shined up. I entered Haridwar at 5 am.

I was in no mood to halt at some expensive hotel. I had made up my mind for a dharamshala. The search for a cheap dharamshala at 5:30 am got me one nasty one which had some old men suffering from bronchitis. Mad me. My mood still hadn’t got over the loss of my mobile phone. I didn’t retire to bed after I got freshened up at my room. I went to see the Ganga ghat. The people spoke a lot of names of the ghats but I was in no mood to know the names. Remembered the numerous names of the ghats at Varanasi for instance. I still don’t remember exactly the ghat where they used to burn the dead, Assi ghat or what God knows.

The sunrise time was a cool one with beautiful breeze flowing. Temple chants and prayers welcomed me. I stood on a bridge and enjoyed my entry. Morning at the Haridwar ghats was buzzing with crowd. Haridwar has always been like that. Overcrowding. The water didn’t look really that clear to take a dip. The people at the dharamshala had advised me to take care for my articles. I kept roaming in my half pants and a t shirt, with the dslr in my hand. At one instance a man asked me how much I charge for photography at which I replied to him that I am not the pro one he was looking for.

Last time I was at Haridwar was when I was 5 years old, had come with my entire family. My uncle had come, basically he was brought for match making purpose at Dehradun. My Grand father had rejected that one. Today my uncle’s son is in IIT Powai, following his dad’s legacy. Time flies. My mom somehow loved Haridwar. I don’t know why. Mom never visited Varanasi. I like Varanasi far more than Haridwar.

Roamed in the markets later. The market was yet to open. Haridwar market was one hell of place to be at. Too much crowd. And in that crowd people would ride their two wheelers, I don’t know how. Lots and lots of shops. Too many tourists. Literally an overflow. I retired to bed at noon time. Woke up at afternoon to evidence an even worse crowd at the markets. You will always find Bong connection at Haridwar. Bengali shops. Some part of crowd would be climbing a hill nearby to visit some temple. People would do anything. I went and sat at the ghat. A man instructed me not to dip my sandals in the water. I said ok. It felt calm and soothing. Its difficult to find people like me who would come all way to a overcrowded place like Haridwar to sit alone and enjoy the breeze at the ghats. Saw the evening aartis but it was nothing like the one at Varanasi. The dusk fell. It felt even better after that. 

Everyone was swaying the lighted up diyas in the flowing waters. I thought for sometime whether to do it or not and finally did it making some fine wishes. The local kids would be seen jumping into the high current waters, just to pick up the coins that people would throw into the river. The temple chants and prayers kept on going. It felt serene, some what satisfactory from inside, to sit at the ghats at the evening time. Made my way back to the markets for dinner. Retired to bed that night early. Next day I had to wake up at 4 am. Was tired so the slumber struck early too.

Till then I hadn’t given a single hint to my parents about my ongoing journey. Had spoken to Rishi after reaching Haridwar. Rishi just wanted to make sure I don’t get disappeared. Tiwari had instructed me to enquire about the roads from the bus drivers about which way would be fit to go. There were to two routes to Pauri. One through Devprayag and the other one through Kotdwar. I had decided to take the Devprayag way when I was going through my mobile gps map. Now the mobile wasn’t there with me. Tiwari had however preferred the Kotdwar route and I was adamant on taking the Devprayag route. I lied to my parents to wake me up at 4 am telling them that I was at Melghat, gonna take a trip to Chikaldhara with friends.

I did wake up next day morning at 4 am. Dad did sound suspicious about my intentions. Dad had caught me whenever I had tried to fake anything in the past. He knew the son is adamant. The dharamshala old men hadn’t woken up at 4 am. While I was busy in packing up my bags and getting my bike ready, the bronchitis old man woke up croaking his throat. He bade me goodbye again telling me to visit Rishikesh and Devprayag temples, even Kedarnath. I said ok. It was a cold morning. Haridwar was neither too hot nor too cold. Better than the rest of India which was burning literally in the May end summer. The day was 31^st May. Made my way out of the Haridwar lanes which looked calm then at the dawn.

Searched for a petrol pump. Got one open at Rishikesh. The Ganga river followed on my right side. The tourist vehicles also broke out into the road to the mountains. The hilly track started right at Rishikesh only. The road reminded me a bit of the road to Manali, although the Manali route was a far beautiful one.

Hills after hills. The morning sun shun through on the hill side margins. The river beds looked beautiful. Sand stones all over them. Summer camping facility was available at that time on such spots. The route looked beautiful. 

Twisted roads. Twisted like anything. One could easily see the roads far away climbing up on the side of the mountains upwards. Man had just cut these roads out of the mountains. Such long distance ones. They looked awesome. Frequently I would spot bikes carrying young lads with saffron clothes covering their faces, they didn’t look exactly the bike tour fellows. These lads were actually from mostly Punjab or Haryana, on their way to Hem Kund Saheb. At some places I saw them having langaars. Anyway. Driving in these parts was fun, but for some time only. Devprayag came after a long time from where I had to cross the river. Mandakini and Bhagirathi rivers joined here to form Ganga. People had built a temple down at the spot where the two rivers met. I stood up and watched the people offering prayers at the temple. I kept wondering what would happen to the temple in the rains looking at the black markings on the rivers side mountain walls which marked the height of the water in rains. The straight route would have led to Uttarkashi. I took the right turn, crossing the bridge built on the river. 

The road after Devprayag wasn’t a good one. The mountain sides showed vulnerable spots of landslides. A slight triggering factor would cause the drifting down of the mountain rocks and soil. These scenes showed why landslides were really notorious in Uttarakhand. Basically because the trees had been cut  making way for the soil to loose grip. After Devprayag I had lost the river valley on  my side. The road since then wasn’t a good one to be remembered. Just mountains and forests with very little sightings of living beings.

 I reached Pauri around 10 am. The old men at Haridwar dharamsala had also said that I would be reaching Pauri around 10 am. I kept searching for my university campus. I started spotting the Chirr trees from there onwards. I smiled broadly, I gush of excitement flowed in me as soon I spotted some deodar trees. That marked that I had reached the elevation of yearly snowfall. I had reached some really good height. Had been travelling since past 4 days. I was on plains for past 4 days and now I reached snow height mountains. I had lost my beloved old Nokia mobile that was the only casualty. I never closed my helmet since I started that day morning from Haridwar. Just loved driving through the mountains. The temperature slowly kept dipping. It really felt like being one of the Enfielders going out on long tours, tour to be recorded on magazines.

All I missed was good pillion rider. The other guy could have clicked some awesome pics for sure. I really missed someone like that. It wasn’t feasible for me to stop every now and then to take snaps. I had lost all connections with my watsap and facebook on account of the loss of the mobile. What a guy I was. Bit felt like going into the wild. More like the movie. Should have put on the song from Eddie Vedder, Society. I didn’t have money to survive for one more day. I had to reach my university that day only. the petrol sucked by the bike turned out to be double than what I had expected. The meter reading showed more distance than what we had thought of before setting out from Melghat. I had crossed 1900 kms since leaving Melghat. I remember shouting at Futane at noon that my bike showed 2300 kms when I had crossed Utavali. It was showing 4260 kms now. I kept driving searching for my university.

It was then that I spotted the snow covered white mountain tops very very far away at horizon. It was actually the western top of Gangotri which is visible from Pauri. 

After sometime I spotted a college campus which mistook to be my destination. I drove eagerly towards the college. At the gates I enquired if it was the Horticulture University. The people replied that it was an engineering college and the college I was looking for was at Bharsar, 60 kms from there. My head got some wires fused when I heard of another 60 kms. Damn. I was already exhausted and then I had to bike another 60 kms into the twisted mountain roads. That would take another two hours minimum.

Called up Arjun but he wouldn’t reply. Tiwari answered telling me to look for way to Pabo. Followed that. The route rom Pauri to Pabo was highly deserted, even more lonesome road through forests. It from nowhere looked like a route to a University. After reaching Pabo on enquiring I came to know Bharsar was another 30 kms away. Crossed Pabo to cross a bridge. Another river joined me on my left side this time. Tiwari had instructed to look out villages name Chipalghat, Sainji. Did get them.

The road looked even more like drive into the wild. One peculiar thing I noticed all through my journey was that if I stopped anywhere and asked anyone about directions, the people would pay less attention to what I would say and stare more at my bike, followed by my saddle bag, then my back pack, then at me, and if then they could get gaze at my beard then that expression on their face surely made something to be recorded.

Sainji was followed by Notha. Weird names. Weird people. Asked them if I was on the right route and they gave an assertion. The road after Notha was an even more deserted one with denser forests and the road kept going uphill like anything. I stopped after sometime, not to click any pic or get freshened, but sorely out of frustration. I spoke to myself ‘this road from nowhere looks like a road to a university where 250 students stay and study. Even if it really is I am sure someone is insane enough to build an university up here and the students are crazier to stay in such a deserted atmosphere.’

I again sat back on my bike. That time I was like to just keep driving with no aspirations. After sometime appeared a board with Bharsar written in hindi. I finally breathed a sense of relief. Took a right turn from there, speeding up to find out the damned university, to spot the a big gate right infront of me. I slowed down to read what was written around it to find that I had reached my destination.

Drove into the gates slowly when a gate keeper walked out to me. He kept staring at my bike asking almost with no interest “kisse milna hai?”

I rode off my bike seat, opened my helmet. “Mai doctor hoon.”

The guy was left speechless for some moment. He kept staring at my beard for sometime and again passed his gaze at my bike number plate, murmuring softly “ye Maharashtra ki gaadi hai?”

I said yeah.

“aap kaha se aa rahe ho?

“Maharashtra se.”

“seedhe Maharashtra se chala ke?”

“haan.”

The responses after that was well known to me. Same set of questions again.

I signed my checking in time. Asked where the guest house would be. Drove off.  

The fellow’s name was Vinod. He was the first person I met in the campus. The second person was Taju, the Dean’s cook at the Guest House. First day at the mountain was great. Second day onwards, followed frustration to be alone. Later we just get used to everything. Human nature. The guest house was the most deserted and you could possibly say the most haunted place to be in the campus. Built on hill top, the guest house was the highest point inside the campus. Just two attendants would stay there all the time in the 60 roomed guest house. Deers could be spotted straying just behind the guest house. The area behind the guest house was densely forested. One could bear to come out of there anytime. Evening onwards chilled winds howled the guest house. I finally got to leave the guest house after  days, received a type 3 flat, just for myself. Melghat and Bharsar were just the total opposites of each other. While Melghat had problems with accommodation, less salary, lesser provision of basic amenities, too much gossiping and buzzing all round the day. Bharsar had too much facilities, while the type 3 flat given to me at Bharsar resided by me alone, at Melghat such a flat would accommodate around six people. Bharsar had a buzzing salary and too less people to set sights on. Loneliness would speak up like anything at Bharsar. Thanks to Satav Sir for whatever I could learn from him in four months. He would arrange for classes every week. And Melghat had O.T, just with the shitty gynecologist. Bharsar had nothing like that. The University health centre had two beds, hardly ten patients a day, the two pharmacists kept the hospital up to date. While at Melghat the Doctors would be expected to do jobs of attendants and pharmacists as well. Melghat khs didn’t have an ambulance, where as Bharsar had one. The Mahaan trust was better equipped for rural health care at Melghat than the ever rotten Khs.

The June month I kept indoors at Bharsar. The rains had set in making it difficult to roam out with bike on account of the landslides and road blocks. The farthest distance was to Srinagar, Uttarakhand. July came with me planning up trips.

Over one month of locked up on the mountains, with temptations to view the surrounding places and to ride down on the plains again .. that brought the ‘Road to Uklana’, on 9^th July.

20 July 2015