Episode 41 : RM '06 - Jan 21

RIDERMANIA 2006
Casuarina Bay, Madras

Having been told to arrive at the resort by 8:30am, I planned to leave home an hour early. I was given the task of making sure any biker who comes down the NH4 highway reaches the resort safely. I was to keep a watch at Vandalur while another biker watched over at Koyambedu.

I took the same route that I was entrusted to watch so that I could make a note of the road and anything around it that could cause a problem later. The only problem I saw was a marathon for younger runners which impeded traffic a little.

I reached the resort a little after 8:30am and registered myself. Only to know that I was relieved of the task to watch at Vandalur as most of the riders had arrived the previous night while the rest had changed directions. With nothing else to do, I got my subsidised beer coupons that would be of no use to me (or so I thought) and wandered around.

Once I came to know that a dormitory was available, I decided to stay both nights. I could always get up early, go home and freshen up. That will also give my folks a chance to wish me in person. The money for it came from the nearest ATM and that was 10 kms away. A mini-ride by itself.

There wasn't anything to do for quite some time and I was getting bored. That's when I heard that R.T.M.C had left Pondicherry and were on their way. Could someone pick them up? I was game, anything to get out of there on a bike.

We had scarcely gone a few kilometres when we spotted three bikers on AP-registered bikes riding in the opposite direction. I quickly turned around and shepherded them to the resort. It was time to get back to the road again.

Just the previous time, I had only gotten to the beachway when I spotted three Indythumping bikers. Shepherding time again.

The third time I got to the beachway, I was not sure if I should wait for a while. I decided to chance my luck and began riding. On my way to Mahabalipuram, I noticed a small crowd standing off the road. Peering through the gap, I saw a red Ferrari had crashed out of the road. Apparently, the driver had tried to overtake, but slammed the brakes on seeing a vehicle coming towards him. He skidded and then slid off the road. The driver escaped unhurt, but the engine soon caught fire.

I crossed Mahabalipuram to find a tractor lying on its side! What next? A road-roller?

By now I had travelled 20 kilometres beyond Mahabalipuram and there was no biker in sight. I was also running low on petrol. Not knowing what to do, I proceeded slowly for a few kilometres. That was when I saw him.

He rode towards me, his hands outstretched on a custom-made handlebar. The bike glinted in sunlight and made a sound that hardly sounded like a Royal Enfield. It was the GJ registered Rolling Star.

I waited for some more time thinking the other bikers were on their way. But all I spotted were three KL registered bikes. I turned and followed them back to the resort.

I calculated quickly and realised I would run out of petrol after another 50 kilometres. And the nearest petrol station being 13 kms from the resort, I would use more than half a litre just to get petrol.

I could stop on the way and fill up, but there was no way I could tell that to the four bikers in front of me. The only other way was to overtake all of them and fill up petrol before they reached Mahabalipuram. Overtaking three Royal Enfield bikes content on doing 80kmph wasn't difficult. What was difficult was catching up with the Rolling Star that was a few kilometres ahead and then overtake it.

The needle was hovering between 100 and 105 when I came within sighting distance of the Rolling Star. Overtaking it took another few minutes; I strongly suspect he slowed down a little. Continuing at the same speed, I was lucky to see two dogs cross the road before I reached them. A few minutes later I was out of Mahabalipuram and into the only petrol station in that area.

I had to let two other motorbikes get their fill before I could do the same for mine. It was only after that did I see the 4 bikers. Surely I couldn't have ridden so fast!

I was a little tired from all the riding, so I stopped shepherding for a while. The GujaratBulls and Wonderlust bikers from Nagpur had also arrived by then. Then it happened.

We all heard a group of bikers approaching the resort. They stopped at the entrance and their leader yelled

'Jo bole so nihaal...'

with the rest joining in a full-throated

'SAT SRI AKAL'.

Introducing the RSMC from Chandigarh.

Cheering, handshaking and backslapping followed while I watched them go about parking their bikes.

After lunch there was the usual lazing around. In the evening there was a distress call. Null from the R.T.M.C had missed his way and was at Vandalur. Would someone sober go pick him up? Finally I get to do what I was supposed to do! The rest of the gang from R.T.M.C rolled in some time later. Barring one person I hoped would come. At the MBMC 4A perhaps?

The constant riding in the sun had dried my lips and wetting it with water did not help. I was also running short on cash and petrol again. By then night had fallen and I had to ride alone in the pitch dark beachway. I was anxious and despite riding carefully, there were some moments that had my hair on its end. I returned with some lip salve to find the remaining RSMC guys reaching the resort.

These guys had left Chandigarh and rode to Madras via Calcutta! Crazy I agree, but in a nice way. And they were welcomed in the same way their comrades had entered. This time with a bottle of beer.

The party mood had begun to catch on. I used my remaining beer coupons. Water was expensive at 23 rupees to a litre. Rum was priced at 200 rupees for a quarter and Pepsi at 35 rupees to half a litre. That left a pint of beer priced at 5. Clearly the most inexpensive alternative.

I spotted Ramath and Selvi in a corner and confronted them. They were yet to send me the only photograph of my torn chin. I had a look at it once again, just to relive old memories. Perhaps I can enlarge and frame it?

Having seen my reluctance to shake a leg at Yercaud, Selvi tried once again. I pointed to my nearly empty beer and gestured I would join once it got over. Much to my surprise and hers, I did just that.

Then on there was no stopping. Arms flailed, feet hopped and the body swayed. I guess the daily skipping helped.

Then the DJ played the song.

Hone do dil ko fanaa
Hone do dard ko tabaah

A bittersweet symphony.

Udne do har ek woh tamanna
Udne do har ek woh tamanna
Aao na, aao na, aao na
Hona hai fanaa

Memories of the last year flashed before my eyes. The train journey, the cake-cutting at 3am followed by the smearing. Bittersweet memories, all of them.

With a wry smile, I continued dancing.

The DJ packed up after midnight and we all trooped to have dinner. Tired yet happy, we trudged towards the beach. The wind blew silently while the waves crashed gently on the sea shore. The nearly three-quarters moon shimmered off the waves below.

That's when it first struck me.

I had turned 28.