What a Life

Now I realise the meaning of my own words.

Expectation is the root of all sorrow.

Nothin more, nothin less.

A trek above the troposhere

Usual friday afternoon. Everyone in office getting ready to leave and head to one of them pubs or the concert featuring "Parikrama, Saif Ali Khan, etc".

My friends ask me to get them passes to the concert. I am unable to arrange for the passes and instead suggest we execute a plan we guys have been hatching for quite some time now. How about a trek to the now quite famous Kalavarahalli Betta a.k.a Skandagiri. Calls to our core group of friends and the entourage is set.

5 of us friends head out of S' room at around 1 am. Thank god my dad insisted I take the car instead of my bike as initially planned. It was really really cold. Off towards Mekhri circle and then towards Hebbal flyover, getting on to the Hyderabad road. Now the road is super fine, 3 laned pleasure. But this only lasts for a few kilometres and then we hit the marathon construction of the Bangalore International Airport, Devanahalli. A quick stop to recharge ourselves with some hot steaming tea.

We head to Chickballapur situated 55 kms from Bangalore. Take a left turn from the Chickballapur bus stand and then one more left just after some market. From here on the road really narrows down. Travelling in this direction for another 5-6 kms we reach the foothills of Kalavarahalli Betta. Make this trip on a full moon day as it offers beautiful sights of the moon lighting up a rather placid lake, making it look out of a romantic movie or the moon hiding partially behing the clouds and in between two hills which in turn are nothing but dark silhouttes against a pitch black sky.

At the base of the hill you find a temple called Papagni Mutt. Plenty of parking space around. There is a forest office adjacent to the temple where one needs to provide details such as names, addresses of all people in that group. Also a fee of Rs. 15 is levied per person. If you are a first timer to this place it is advisable to get the services of a guide. One can find many guides who quarrel between themselves to get the contract, so to speak, to guide people up the hill.

We started the trek at around 3.30 am. We took the path adjacent to the temple towards the hill. The sheer size of the hill(not huge compared to the Western Ghats or Himalayas, but big in their own right) does not reflect on the trekker as one can only see a dim silhoutte of the hill in the darkness. Almost half a kilometre towards the hill we hit the base of the hill. A steady uphill incline starts which leaves us "Software Engineers(read lack of excercise for most)" gasping for breath. And all this while we have completed just a few metres of the trek. We tread along following the guide who keeps telling us that the top is just another 30 minutes away. Dont know for how long he maintained the 30 mins story. We took ample breaks on the way up. Let me tell you, if you are not physically fit, you will find this hill very difficult to climb.

The low temperature because of which we were all decked in jackets, gloves and caps gave way to really high temperatures of our bodies. We were all sweating profusely even in that low temperature. Loved it cos it had been a while since we had sweat. Every break that we took was like a relief from a concentration camp(PHEW!!). The cold wind causing the sweat to cool making us feel very fresh. We had hoped to find a lot of clouds when the sun rose because many of our friends who had gone there previously had come back without having seen any. And here we were with a clear sky above us. The climb really started to take a toll on us as the hill got steeper with every step. Each step felt like torture meted out to hard-core criminals(people with regular excercise and non-smokers might disagree with me here). It was a hard climb upto the top. Mind you, we were trekking in the middle of the night with only Nokia 1100 phones as our sources of light. Now we realise this phone is really made for India.

Finally we reach the top of the hill where we rest for a while. Locals have put up miniature tents in which they cook hot Bajjis and serve hot Tea. After a much diserved break we head to the place on the hill from where the sunrise can be viewed the best. We notice that the previously clear sky was slowly but surely giving way to immense clouds. We were overjoyed to see this happen. Finally seated at the top most part of the hill, camera ready to go click-click, we wait. The cold and fresh air was very refreshing, specially for all the people there who were coming from the capital's polluted atmoshpere.

After quite a while the sun started to sire. The light cast by the Sun from under the clouds stated to make the sky look like a canvas painted with beautiful colours. It was a sight to cherish. As the Sun rose higher the colours got even more vibrant. Everyone was clicking away.

We could not see anything other than clouds as far as we could see. Only the tips of few hills popping out of the clouds. It was like a carpet of really soft cotton strewn along the land. The sight was magical. Gradually the clouds started to percolate into the valleys ajoining the hills.

As eagerly as everyone was waiting for the sun to rise, everyomne started to hide from the sun as it really started to prick the eyes with the intense rays.

After clicking a lot of pics, we started our climb down around 8.30. Everyone was tired because of the lack of sleep, sudden exertion and hunger. The climb was not as difficult as we had imagined. It was pleasant and we climbed down before the sun really started to get perpendicular with the land. We saw a lot of people start the trek at arnd 9 am. Let me tell u not only is that tiring but also fruitless as one will not find any clouds of the magnitude which we found at 6 am.

We got back to the congested traffic laden roads of Bangalore. I must tell you that this trek eventhough physically draining was mentally refreshing. The simple pleasure of watching the sunrise from underneath the clouds making a canvas of the sky is really to lust for. I highly recommend people do this trek before the temperatures start to climb even during the nights.


Here are a few pictures from this Beautiful place..........

Jinxed.

26 n counting.

The weather is really conducive to add to my tally of accidents. Wet roads, pathetic road sense of Bangaloreans. All Schumi n Rossi wannabes.

Still at my exciting job of “Staring at the monitor”. Try it out. Its awesomely mind-numbing.
No work. Sitting n pondering over my extensive collection of accidents.
Its hard to remember each n every one, but the ones i do remember are so clear in my head that to this day I have sleepless nights.

Yikes.

The permutations and combinations of accidents. How many types of accidents can happen? As a wiseman said there are only 7 stories in this world. Every other story is just another modified, spiced up version of the 7 basic ones. Does this apply to accidents also?

100kmph, 0 kmph.
Bike, scooter or on foot.
Dry roads n wet roads.
Highways n busy streets.
Humans n animals.

Anymore combinations or participants? I have no idea. Will find out I am sure.

Somehow I am always fascinated with symmetry(n it aint the reason I am straight). This need for symmetry has invariably left symmetrical scars on my body. Fun to see them n remember each incident. Shoulders, elbows, palms, waist, knees, toes. The biggest scar is on my neck. Absolutely amazing the way I got it. Hilarious. But if it had gone wrong even a bit I wudnt have been writing this.

Elaborating on all my accidents wil take up so much of my “valuable” work time. Will do that eventually.

For now its fun to write this blog cos at this time its my only option to stay awake.

“The show must go on”.

It will, I am very sure n on this road I will always tread alone.

Life

Can life be complete?
Yes n No.

Yes, if all ur needs and desires are fulfilled.
No, because as humans our desires have no end.

Contradictory? Yes, very much so.

At 23, my life seems complete.
Gr8 parents, friends, money(i am human, i still need more) and Love.

All these years i have always learned to enjoy every part of my life to the fullest. Wats the point of waiting for that ultimate joy and miss out on the small elements of fun each day has to offer.

A smoke, chat with friends, good food(aaaah), bike rides, playing games, lazing away, movies, drinking, coffee(a lot can really happen over a cup of coffee :P) and many more things.

Why am I writing this?
Am I a writer? Am I a “Litty-Shitter”? NO.

The sole reason for me writing this piece is because I don’t have anything else to do. Why? Because all the aforementioned things have somehow vanished from my so called “working, responsible” life.

Damn. I am a Software engineer. It aint that bad, but right now I am sitting in front of the comp staring at the monitor. This has been happening for the past 2 weeks. How long can a person sit at one place and stare at the monitor. Yuck. Very Yuck.

I look forward to my weekends with such greed that it amuses me. Gone are the days when I used to spend each day loafing arnd. Now I have to “schedule” my loafing arnd activities. Absolutely amazing.

Thank heavens that I have a gr8 bunch of friends to be with at the end of each day. A special person to spend time with.

And food. How can I not mention food. Sick n tired of eating at restaurants. I crave for home made food so bad.

Hmmm…….wat have I written till now??? Do I have any clue as to wat this post is all about? No. Do u? if yes lemme know.

Adios Amigos.

I am off to my ultra-exciting job of “Staring at the monitor”.

And I read this post again to see wat it means. I am lost.

But is my life complete. Can I still wear Raymonds clothes and proudly say “The complete man”???????????

I eat my own words

A blank mind.

Needs stimulation to get back to crazy normalcy.

My baby, back from the hospital(garage) after an extensive surgery. For a few months it had been giving me pain, albeit not physically. There was absolutely no pleasure RIDING her. Needed to test her credentials after the surgery.

Off i went towards the highway. Do i sound repetitive with the highway stuff? Fuck who cares. I love that piece of tarmac. With 70 bucks in the wallet, with no thoughts in the head, my whole being automatically heads towards open roads. 50 bucks worth of fuel and off i go.

After many months of pain, my baby sounds good. She doesnt choke. She revs hard. She accelerates harder. Traffic? What the hell. When my baby roars, others move out. They better.

I am blown over again by its performance. It had been a long long time since i enjoyed her. She's back and i love every bit of her. She is still not absolutely perfect, but almost there. The ton reached in under 8 secs. Twists and turns which were a nightmare all these days, now smoothen out themselves as if they were carved with my baby in mind. I am ecstatic. Really.

I take back my words. I did not want to ride my p180 after the shogun experience. But now i want to enjoy my bike all over again. Now i can say the shogun aint no match for my black beauty.

I take back my words about 4-strokes being somewhat like wives and 2-strokes being a hot, bitchy, spicy, sexy girl. Well if the 4-stroke wife is like CARMEN ELECTRA and SALMA HAYEK combined who cares about a hot, bitchy, spicy, sexy girl. A 2-stroke is like a morning quickie. Done ASAP. But in the longer version of the game you need speed, stability, screams, superior handling. A 2-stroke cannot, i repeat, cannot provide that.

AAAAH. 50 kms of fast paced action has got me back to those good old days of ABSOLUTE MADNESS. The KUL knows that phase of mine. It feels good. Really good.

All you posers, get your ass on the road now. I am ready to show you who's the boss and it certainly aint the shogun.

Its ME.

Stinking Insanity

Stinkwheels.

A biker's mantra: Mad rush, Gut-Wrenching speed, Insanity.

Ask any rider, any real rider. He will swear by the power of a two-stroker.
A four-stroke.............BORING.

Riding a 2 stroke gives a man such uninhibited, unmatched, unrelenting pleasure. It just has to be experienced to believe.

A 2 stroke is like a hot, bitchy, spicy, sexy girl. A 4 stroke is like a wife.

And in INDIA there are only 2 2-strokers which actually provide that kinda pleasure.

The legendary RD-350 and the SHOGUN.

I had the pleasure of riding a stonking SHOGUN today. My friend bought a Shogun, got it to my house. Since then i hav had my hands to its keys like a fat kid having his hands on a cup-cake. I am blown away, literally and figuratively. The mad rush of this well maintained Shogun easily outdoes the refined, smooth nature of my Pulsar 180.

Speeding through the road at an alarming rate. The rush. Popping a wheelie in 3rd gear(with a pillion). Can any other bike match this? A BIG NO.

The Shogun was built with one and only one thing in mind. Power. Speed. Acceleration.
And to beat the Yamaha rx-100. Did it do the job? Fuck yeah. It can put any, absolutely any bike to shame apart from the king, RD-350. The Shogun delivers raw power at two intervals. The first installment at 4000rpm, this is still acceptable, by Shogun standards. Still accelerating hard. As soon as the engine hits 7000 rpm, the next power rush. And this time its unrelenting. Absolutely amazing. I could feel myself being thrown off the bike.


I have gone absolutely bonkers riding this amazing machine. I dont want to ride my Pulsar 180 anymore. I want a stonking stinkwheel. I want a Shogun.

Shogun=Boss.

It sure was, is and will remain so.
It has a special place in the hearts of all true-blue bikers.

HAIL THE BOSS.

2 Days, 550 Kms, tired?? no fuckin way..........

DAY 1 BEGINS....

Grandpa: listen, i have to attend this annual function at my village. Can u take me?
Me: of course grandpa, i can. Well i dont have anything else to do.

The plan set. 2oo kms away from Bangalore, to my ancestral village. Annual ceremony at a temple.

I get up at 6 am. damn. I hate getting up early. But the thought of driving for such a long distance wakes me up even before the alarm goes off. Neatly dressed, getting in the car, I head to my grandpa's place.

We leave Bangalore at 7.30 am. Me, grandpa and some irritating distant cousin(whom I got to know only a few months back). NH4. Empty. Smooth. Grandpa in a total trance about going to his village and attending a holy ceremony. I speed. 70-80-90-100-110-115 kmph. Morning weather and an amazing stretch. What else can a 23 year old speed freak for? (well better company wud have been better). Reach my hometown, Tumkur, at 8.30.

Breakfast at my other cousin's place. As time passes by, grandpa starts getting restless. He has to reach the village before 12. We leave my cousin's place at 9.30. Purchasing flowers, sweets, etc etc we finally head towards this village. The smoothness of NH4 gives way to what can be best described as a dirt track meant for off-roading. And we are in a Maruti 800. :( . I have 2 hours to cover 120 kms. Bad roads, maniacal truck and bus drivers, lazy villagers. I start to question myself, "why did i agree to take up this journey?". Without another thought, i floor the throttle even on bad roads, not giving way to ANYBODY. Atleast my other cousin kept me company. The car being so unstable. I still speed. Too much speeding? Well its in my blood.

Two hours of high speed, high levels of concentration, we reach the village. At 12. Exact. I turn towards grandpa and say, "thatha, we are on time. Now relax." The pleased look on the old man's face on reaching HIS village took away all the frustration of driving on bad roads. Glad that i could help my grandpa. Leaving him and the irritating guy(IG) at the temple, where they are joined by other village elders, me and my cousin go for our FAGS. Much needed ones. Parked outside the village under a tree, smoking, aaah, life.

Lunch at the IG's place. Oh man. Simple, yet so sumptuous. I hog, like there's no tomorrow. Then head out again for our after-lunch fags. We leave the IG's place at 3. Grandpa wants to visit all the temples in that village. He thinks this will be the last time he can possibly visit. So we head to 3 more temples. Well, finishing the appointment with GOD, we finally leave the village. Grandpa totally satisfied. And me too that i could help him out. But all the time only one thing lingered on in my mind, the next day's biking trip.

Bad roads become worse when there's lack of solar power. But it was a relaxed drive. No issues of reaching home early. Finally come back to my cousin's place at 8.30. Aunt, grandpa forcing me to stay and leave tomorrow. But i was adamant and left for Bangalore.

Driving alone at night is such a relief, from the daily grind of life. Cool breeze blowing, heading back to an empty home(parents outta town, yippeee), smoke in hand. Words can never express that feeling. Stop at a roadside dhaba. Chai and cigs, talking to my love, FUN never stops in my life. The best was yet to come. Cigs in hand, outdragging a better, powerful vehicle is such an EGO BOOST. The look on that driver's face being beaten by a guy driving a Maruti 800, was priceless.

Get home, exhausted, but satisfied. A shower, dinner(lovingly packed by my aunt) and a call to my confused zoo inmate. Sleep. Finally.

DAY 1 ENDS.

DAY 2 BEGINS......

Getting up at 9, i feel fresh. Eager to head out, again. This time with the right company. I arrange for my friend's bike(my baby was confiscated by 81). And jingle gets to my area. Smoke with him. Me and jingle head home. I get ready. the Kul finally arrives with Malvika. We leave my home towards Kul's "Sasural".
3 Bikes, 5 young souls, head out to enjoy a day of riding. Someone was missed a lot.

Out on the highway, the highway to heaven, we speed. (again? hell yeah). Stopping at places me and the Kul call our "Fag and pic" spots. Smokes, posing for pics. The fun never stopped. My mind was working overtime, talking non-stop, one-liners, pj's. Nothing "intellectual", well i am incapable of that.

My confidence in riding bikes was back. Thanks to a super stable and fast bike and a bigger thanks to one of the best pillions, Malvika. Salaam. Weaving in and out, taking corners, the screams of a 2-stroker, oh damn i am blessed with too many good things in life.

Lunch at a place called "Hotel Down Town Sagar". Lunch was good. Again a few fags and pics.
Head out onto the road.

CCD. Coffee. Cigs. Chat. More jokes. More laughter.
And then there is an epidemic. Damn. Everybody in CCD gets this sudden craving for bloody Black forest. Kids, parents, everyone. I am surrounded by Black forest. yuck.
Atleast i had good company.

Leaving CCD at 5.30 pm, hitting the road, i get this tunnel vision. All i can see is the road and vehicles. No fear. Just no fear. Been a long long time since i have not been scared of riding fast. And with an amazing pillion, all 3 bikes are taken close to their limits. All this while I am worried about how things are going on in a distant land.

Back to Bangalore. One phone call. I am happy that everything went well in the distant land.
On Shilpa's terrace, we go through the same routine. Chai, cigs and chatter. Jingle getting angry at a certain individual. Laughter, that never seemed to end.

And the day came to an end. Did it? NO.

Dinner at a friend's place. Fags on the terrace at 12. A long talk with the Confused Inmate.

Heading back home, head full of ever-lasting memories. Rest. Much needed. Physically tired but mentally feeling fresh as ever.

2 Days, 550 kms, Tired??? Absolutely no fucking way.