Episode 4 : The Curious Incident Of A Dog On The Road

Its been 2 hours and 7 days since I ran over a dog.

Before anybody jumps to conclusions, let me set the record straight.

I love dogs.

I raise dogs.

There are days when I see gruesome sights of dogs smashed up on the highway by marauding trucks and buses. I avoid them with a shudder, even though running over them would make hardly a difference. Except those times when I know I am going to run over a dog only when I get close enough to see the carcass neatly plastered on the road. Or after riding over it.

An ex-colleague once told me,"Hyde, you can get away unhurt when you run over anything. Except a dog."

I digress.

It was the occasion of the fourth anniversary of the R.T.M.C, based in Bangalore. And we, the members of the MBMC, were invited to their bash at Yercaud on the 1st of October, 2005.

Thirty of us rode to Yercaud, touching Tindivanam, Villupuram and Salem on the way. Smooth roads, stretches of bad roads, pot holes, sloping roads, we saw them all. Not to mention punctures and other bike problems!

Most of us had rolled in by dusk and the party that began soon after ended sometime late in the night. Or the very early hours of the morning, whichever way you look at it.

I was one the first ones to leave. Early bird catches the worm, they say. And I wanted to get back home as early as possible.

The ride from uphill Yercaud to Salem was thrilling in that the bike glided down with the engine switched off. I was able to touch speeds of close to 60kmph. It was a little unnerving to move so silently and yet so fast, but the thrill outweighed the nerves.

After a quick breakfast at Salem, we were off again. I had taken over the job of maintaining the rear and had become fairly comfortable doing it. One of the bikers, Ramath had a problem with his bike's engine oil content and I made sure he and his pillion Selvi were always ahead of me.

It was around 30 minutes past noon when I messaged Papa Hyde that my mobile phone was running out of charge and that the next update would be at home. I did not realise how prophetic those words would be. We were around 35 kilometres from Ulundurpettai and planned to halt at Villupuram for lunch. One of the bikers, Byzer, had broken ranks and joined our group.

So we rode on were close to 20 kilometres from Villupuram. It was around 2 in the afternoon. Ramath had overtaken Byzer and was getting ahead, much to my relief. I had been trying to get him to move to the first half of the pack so that we could reduce the gap between the bikes.

And that was when it happened.

The road, though smooth, was not very wide. And so we were riding in a single file. Byzer swerved to avoid something and then I noticed it.

A dead dog. Right in front of me.

The scenes that unfold next were captured in my mind like photographic stills.

My mind screaming at me that there is a dead dog on the road. The words of my colleague.

I knew there was no way out, but to ride over it. I steadied myself for the jerk.

And then I hit it.

For a split second, there was nothing; the bike was probably airborne.

Then a series of wobbles. One to the left, then to the right, back to the left and again to the right.

I could see Byzer going off in the distance. Obviously nobody heard me land with a bump.

And then the bike slid to my right and I felt myself falling forwards.

The next second, I was looking down at the road. The bikers were still in my view. I could feel my knees grazing the road and realised the chin portion of my helmet was doing the same thing. And my mouth was feeling a little odd.

Once the bike and I stopped moving, I got up and dusted myself. My knees were bruised and my mouth still felt something was missing. But before that could register, I notice the bike was leaking petrol. And I had nearly half a tank of that.

I lifted the bike off the road and realised I was standing at the other end. With nobody in sight, I was wondering how long I would have to stand before I got help. Presently Byzer arrived to ask if I was alright. Once we got the bike to stand, I began to unstrap my helmet.

That was when I noticed that I was dripping blood from my mouth and that I had lost three of my front teeth. The knuckles of my right hand were cut, the glove still in place and intact. My left hand was intact, but the glove was torn asunder. My right elbow was also cut.

"Are you OK? Are you feeling dizzy?", Byzer kept asking.

I was amazed at how much in control I still was. I did not panic, nor did I faint. On the contrary I felt I could stand for a while.

That happened till somebody decided to turn up the brightness. Everything began to look bright and it became difficult to differentiate between trees and light.

I told Byzer I wanted to sit down for a while. A few villagers had come running by then. So did another rider, Jeeth. He went off to get some water while the villagers discussed the crash. Apparently one of them had seen a bike with a pillion go by, and then heard the crash. Another thought I killed the dog when an old man refuted it saying he saw the dog lying dead for close to two hours. They decided to move the dog off the road before anybody else got hurt.

The folks could have done that before I fell down!

I borrowed Jeeth's bag and used it as a pillow while they cleaned me up. The lying down helped I suppose and soon I was able to see clearly. Soon more bikers joined us. A quick parley ensued and I was taken to the nearest village to clean up the wounds while the others examined the bike's damages.

The wounds were cleaned at a clinic but said person in charge said that the wound on the chin would need some stitching up and that X-ray facilities were available only at Villupuram. That meant taking a bus and going to Villupuram with my bike giving me company? Am not sure the conductor would have enjoyed that.

So I sat pillion on Paul's bike and we rode to Villupuram. We had gone scarcely a few kilometres when we spotted Brij and Harsh riding hurriedly towards us. A passing truck driver informed them of a bike sans its rider 20 kilometres behind and they came back to investigate. That was when Harsh saw me.

"What happened to you?", he almost screamed.

"I fell off the bike", I mumbled.

"What about Byzer?"

"He is with my bike."

Saying this, we set off to get my wounds stitched. Jeeth and Paul scouted for hospitals while I tried to control my fears from controlling me.

Soon we landed outside Hari Hospital and asked to see the doctor. The doctor listened to the story and called the resident dentist.

The dentist suspected a fracture of the chin, saying it is the likeliest of fractures occurring for such accidents. I was sure I had a fracture at the joint of the left jaw since there was a swelling there and I hardly felt any pain on my chin. Being a Sunday, the X-ray technician was also unavailable, so we decided to get my chin stitched up and get the X-ray done at Madras.

As I am wont to do, I could not help talking. I guess it helps relieve the stress, but it wasn't reassuring the support staff. On top of it, I asked Ramath to photograph my chin so that I could look at it later. He was a little hesitant but took it anyway. If allowed, the doctor would have admitted me to a mental asylum straightaway!

The wound required a few stitches and the assisting nurse lauded me for bearing it so well. I should have, considering that I was under local anaesthesia all the time!

Madras was perhaps around 200 kilometres from there and I was worried about having to ride without a helmet all the way. I could have worn my helmet, but the chin was wet with blood and could have gotten uncomfortable at the jaw as well. I figured if I had to fall again, I would not know a thing. With that morbid reassurance, I sat tight and we rode to Madras.

I don't remember where we stopped, but my back had begun to hurt and I badly needed water to drink. We pulled over at one of the road-side shops and I asked for a packet of water. I was about to tear off plastic when I realised I did not have the teeth to cut it. Literally!

The feeling of being handicapped can manifest itself in different ways.

In the ensuing discussion, I learnt there were other incidents of hits, scrapes and falls, with one happening at around the same time as mine. Clearly an eventful ride both ways.

We pulled into the southern outskirts of the city at around 6.30pm. Some of the bikers who had gone on ahead were waiting for me at Chromepet. We rode on till home after which two of them offered to drop me home. I felt I could ride my bike from there and so we started moving again.

The fall had twisted the beam of the headlight skywards. Light shot out in a straight arrow for quite a distance before splitting into two. I had never seen such a powerful beam in my life. Frankly, quite mesmerising.

It had rained earlier in the day. That, the dark streets and my general state of mind made sure the others lost me a few hundred yards from home. I hung around hoping to send them on the right path, but in vain. With a clattering crashbar, I rode home.

Mama Hyde's first reaction was to stare at me and ask where my helmet was. Since it was dark, she could not see what really happened till I got off the bike and allowed her a good look at my face. I knew I was going to have to answer quite a few questions.

Predictably, Papa Hyde was shocked till he saw I was alright. There was no way we could get an X-ray done. So all plans were postponed to the next day.

Cont'd.