Little (S)trips of Heaven

(My prep work for the trip - manual, apple, cell and of course my helmet)


Mahabaleshwar is barely that – Heaven, that is. The full to the brim welcome that M'shwar lake used to offers is gone. Nowadays, the bright red soil stares at you from where the water used to lap at the erstwhile lakes edges. Trust me, there is no lake left. I drink more water in a day than what that stupid pond holds. During peak season there are so many boast bobbing around such that you can walk across the lake. Hop, skip jump and you'll make all the way cross without getting your toes wet. Despite the mess, every year more and more people turn up, and inevitably go boating; and every year the lake gets smaller!! sheesh it'll soon be the Mumbai local train experience. Bleargh!! I know this is not the best way to start any story but I'd much rather get rid of the messy bits first. And these thoughts do bother me...

Well M'shwar was only a destination for me. The adage, “the journey is half fun” burned bright in my mind on that Sunday morning . In my case the journey was the fun. It was dark and cold at 5:45 in the morning when I headed out from home. I carefully warmed the bike, loaded myself with some cash for some arbitrary ‘worst case scenarios’ and headed out for Katraj ghat. The route over Katraj is probably the longest standing excuse for a road in the country. On any other bike I would have turned back and snuggled back into bed, but the Honda Unicorn does funny things to you. Makes you feel all warm and fuzzy; ecstatic at being out doing these stupid things.
Swinging across the hills on pathetic surfaces and truckers with blazing beams, I almost started missing the city. Almost. As soon as Katraj was in the rear view my spirits rose and I unwound the throttle. If the cold had been a comfort till then, it suddenly decided to switch sides. I went past stretches of farm land where I would swear no crop would grow owing to the anomalous sub-zero temperatures. All the blood in my veins nearly froze. What made it even worse was that these really pee-inducing cold stretches were followed up with warm stretches. God! Why are you doing this to me! The wisdom of wearing a only jacket and t-shirt was questioned several times over. I dropped cruise speeds from 80km/h to 70km/h, but I figured i'd only feel marginally less cold instead for a much longer period of time. Rock and a hard place I tell you!
Instead i decided to play sunflower and kept my eyes pealed for the hint of dawn. The dawn finally came by the time I was well and truly frozen and ready to take a leak.. say around seven. I also took the opportunity to click some snaps of the bike.

Well enough of National Geographic; soon after is what is surely the first little stretch of heaven - Khambhakti Ghat. hehe the name sounds ridiculous though. But it is pretty much a kambakhat ghat for all sorts of trucks and even 4-wheelers. I went into full fledged attack mode at first sight of the completely raucous curves that constitute the ghat. One swoop, then another and another, until it suddenly dawned on me that the Unicorn tag line "Be a Wing Rider" is not all marketing faff. That bike was just egging me on. But, I refused to fall for it's tricks and into the nearby ravine. Hell, I was only warming up. Next up Mahabaleshwar ghat. On the ride between the two ghats some conspiracy was afoot to get me a page in history as the first fatality of 2006 owing to bird hits! Normally it's a problem for aviation.. Damn I felt like taking up hunting. Not just another dose of Nat Geo. This was just outside Wai at the foothills of the Mahabaleshwar Ghat.


The ride up to Mahabi was a torrid, flat out affair; considering gravity was working against me. The sashaying strip of tar was playing temptress and I was in no mood to ignore the signs. Fresh air, minimal traffic, an awesome ride with a brimful of fuel. Flat out all the way to Mahabaleshwar lake. Oh yeah, along the way I saw Kareena Kapoor (I saw a couple of girls jumping up and down like chimpanzees and slapping each other, screaming "I told you it was her.") I looked in the direction to see a sullen square jaw, figured it must be her. Also saw Leslie Lewis (the singer) take a early morning walk. These celebs, can't they just stick to Mumbai? Well anyway, the dazed chicks managed to not get run over by passing traffic and I safely made it to have a steaming cup of tea.
On the way down, I wrung the throttle all the way back, and pulled some of the most enchanting side swapping moves in a long time. Things got a little uncomfortable at times, but that only served to show that my riding skills have gotten rusty. I was stepping down a gear a little too late to be really taking the corners at optimum speed. Late braking into mid corners was unsettling the bike.. erm and me. So, i changed tacks and started pulling out proper track worthy shifts, revving it up into corners, sliding the rear ever so slightly as i hustled through corners. A few minutes later, it really did seem that way, I was back in Wai!! I wanna do it all over again...
Hopefully the next time there's someone around to take my pics and also someone to take pics with. *wink*

S I M P L E

No more of this bourgeois cool lingo. What i mean is no more of the wannabe cool crap..
If I wanna say 'wanna' I'm gonna go ahead and do it! And I would like to dedicate this award to my sisters. For their, never ending perseverance, I mean nagging powers, in getting me to be my usual crass self(You know I love you). To celebrate this great occassion i have poked my left index finger up my nostril while i hack away with my right! Ahh.. i can breathe free...

Oh yeah! Obviously the post that was meant to be posted has been delayed now that it has to be reworded so that even laybabies (ask Littu, she'll tell you teh story. If you don't know Littu, ask me. I'll tell you te story!) can get with-it!

Cheers - aka Bye bye!

Thippets or Snoughts?

Well I keep getting these thoughts which seem really jingle-ish, but with the lusture and iridescence of a fresh water pearl. They capture my attention completely for the fleetest of momenst and are completely fathomable, but more often that not, by the time I reach my destination (for that matter by the time i am leaned over at the very next corner) the thought returns to the depths from which it had risen. I figured from now on I will make it a point to keep in mind the snippetish thoughts and convey them to you.
The reason why i write all this: Now given that they are snippets of complete thought i figured i could call them either Thippets (Thoughts + snippets) or Snoughts (Snippets + thought). The problem with the former being that it sounds much like a breed of dog (whippet) and the second sounds like snot. Obviously my more creative and interesting streaks are born when behind a wheel or in the saddle. So untill they figure out a way for me to do that (blogit) while riding\driving you will have to bear with my marginal thought process.
In the obvious case that I have actually not, as yet, stopped by the wayside to make notes of these pop-up brain passengers. I will give you a preview of stuff to come:"I know what I really want to do, but I am so busy doing the other (not necessary things) that i never get around to the reallyt important things."
A very weak example, but you'll get better ones.. i hope.. i'm going for a long bike ride t'row..should return with a veritable treasure trove..

For The Love of God or Something......

If Dolly the Sheep was a sacrilege in the world of God fearing, on-their-knees-folk, an equally heinous crime has been committed in my world. A Crank busting, ECU shorting, cog crunching kind of event. In the world of pistons, cranks, injectors, spark plugs, glow plugs, pump deuse and what have you, the highly talented whizzes from IITs and MITs of the globe are fighting Gods predetermined order.

Let me draw an analogy. If there was only one kind of woman in the world it would be one helluva existence. For example, they would no longer be tall, thin, fat, cute, fair, dark or whatever else that works for you. Sure she could be all of these but, she would be the same as the others... and therefore....unexciting. Sure, all of them would look good and, same. You wouldn’t have one with that wide smile or that button nose or that divine behind. Jeepers!! And who am I am pointing my wicked finger at for this? It’s those smart alecs we spoke of earlier, going about trying to do exactly this in the homo sapien world. By splitting, identifying, charting and mapping chromosomes and the DNA construction they hope to rid the human race of its flaws. Oh sure, it will only iron out strains of genetic diseases-sure it will. How will these do gooders be directed to do that much and only that? However, all this might still take a while before I really need to go ballistic about the super strong -humans of tomorrow or the genetic IQ 146 sect.

The reason I am teetering at this ludicrous edge of sanity is because of the more and more sophisticated mills that are being churned out by manufacturers; and they always seem to have even newer versions before the first one is in the market. There are engine’s that use their super sensor battalion and completely variable everythings to drive themselves, no matter how stupid the guy behind the wheel really is and no matter what maneuvers he pulls.. No seriously, I don’t remember asking for a diesel that thinks it’s a petrol. Take the oil chuggers of nowadays – who’s to tell that it’s a diesel and not a petrol. They sound pretty much the same on the outside when you start them up. On the inside, if the manufacturer has done his homework right you will not be able to make out the difference either. But the one area where you could distinctly make out was once you got behind the wheel. Thus, my frothing state, for I’d bite my leg, twice, before saying “Yes please, this is a diesel indeed.” Soft turbos, high pressure rails, deuse-me injectors, and the blaster ray from the Enterprise have all descended all aiming to give your oil burner a petrol identity. Mild chug alongs even in the rev range

Hypocritical as ever, I clap these fine gentlemen for their outstanding efforts. “Well done Mr X, phenomenal engine.”And the end result? future generation who won’t have to face the pressures of turbo lag or whistle, or the orgiastic wave of low down grunt, or the clatter. Get in press the pedal and whiz off. It’s not just Formula 1 that is meant for chimps, is it? Ill shout out a hurrah for that when i feel like it.