September of this year is a month in my life I can never forget. Its when I got my first motorcycle. My very own motorcycle. I’ve never really owned one and its been a long held dream of mine. I’ve always been into motorcycles and I still cant believe I have and ride my very own. I’ve never actually had the confidence to ride one until I got my own. I guess its safe to say that I learnt riding on this. Although I’ve been riding a two-wheeler for over nine years now, I’m inexperienced when it comes to motorcycles with my expertise restricted to mostly the non-geared ones.
Its like what they say. ‘You don’t really when you’re ready until you actually try it’. I learnt riding after I got this and I guess I’ve fallen in love with it ever since.
My first ride was three hundred kilometers, from my home to my college. I was afraid. I was nervous because until that day my lifetime riding record stretched to a puny ten kilometers. Here I’m taking a strange motorcycle across places unknown, under conditions unknown, among insane traffic with zero past experiences. It requires endurance, stamina and a good lot of concentration, to come out of it in one piece, me on my motorcycle.
I endured. I didn’t just endure it, I loved it. I tried it twice after that and fell in love with it even more. I’m not a hardcore biker or anything but I just love how I feel when I’m riding. Its not speed I’m attracted to but freedom. When I ride, I feel free. I feel like nothing else matters and every bit of life that nags me become all dormant all of a sudden. Like the whole life stops and what moves is me on a motorcycle charging past traffic.
I guess everybody have their own way of feeling free. Some do adventure sports, some travel but for me, freedom is riding. I don’t ride to reach places and so I never set a destination. I just take it out on the highway and keep riding until I feel its time to turn back. I ride for the horizon because when you love doing something you’d not take any limit to stop yourself anywhere.
I don’t know anything about my motorcycle. But when I get on it, it feels as if I know everything about it and it about me. It is as if it can feel me when I’m scared or frantic. It can feel my confidence flow though itself as I glide over the asphalt. The thing I love about riding is the closeness it brings you to death and the responsibility it puts in your hand to not just be alive but to enjoy each moment which very well could be your last.
The way I got my motorcycle was a bit of a surprise actually. I’ve been asking for one for over a year and I really wanted one but I was afraid. I was afraid I might not be able to handle the responsibility of one because I wasn’t sure of my ability. This one time I took a bus in the night from my college and reached my home at around three in the morning and I saw something standing in the garage. I never for once thought it would be this and when I removed the sheets, there stood the one thing I’ve been yearning for a long time. My dad had got it the day before and had asked me to come home to take it with me. I never for once expected a gift like this and probably saying he’s the best dad in the world ain’t even gonna cover it. I guess he felt I was ready to have my own. He even permitted me to do three kilometers thrice, all alone, fully aware of my inexperience. I guess he trusts me and it makes me to ride safe every time I take it out for a spin.
“The road is eternal, the wind is constant. What else comes with a guarantee like that?”
Cheers for all those who like to ride with the wind chasing the sun.