The Motorcycle and Zen maintenence

Once bitten, always bitten.

I just had to scratch the bike-trip itch, the causative agent having been embedded way back in January. Then came the damned Avenger ad. Then came my talking about bike trips. Then came concurrence from Bangalore and frantic, very ambitious planning from all parties. Then came the inevitable incompatibilities of time and priorities. Then came the petering out of plans. Then came the decision of flying solo.

Then surfaced the idontknowwhat which made me ask J if he's like to join. To which he, of course, agreed gleefully. Then came the twang of regret, because there were sufficient reasons to go alone. Then came acceptance of self-stupidity, and resignation to consequences of big-mouth disease.

Then came the fixing of meeting of the volunteer group I joined, to help provide education to underprivileged youth. Then came the realisation that I once again succumbed to my fatal problem of not being able to say 'no'. Then came the ohnosecond in which I slapped my forehead and realised I wouldn't be able to start on my bike trip early in the morning like I had planned.

Then a whole lot of things happened, including surprise meeting with old collegemate, which was unnecessary and unwanted. Then we finally set out at 3.00 pm, without knowing the exact distance and being about half-sure of the route. Then came a very enjoyable couple of hours, indulging in scratching the biker itch. Michelle performed beautifully, in unfamiliar territory in terms of extended periods of high speeds (I love you, darlin...muah!).

Then came no destination, inspite of the setting sun and a hundred and fifty kilometres behind us. Then came a village on the outskirts of nowhere, and with it a guy who shockingly spoke three words of French (much to J's amusement). Then came information that the destination was much farther than I thought. Then came the sinking feeling that we would have to turn back now itself. Then came the consolation that the trip was a lovely experience and the satisfaction of having scratched the itch a little bit. Of course, this will only make the itch come back harder and stronger...very soon.

There were interesting conversations during the trip, about the French countryside, highway rules, hand signals, stars, eatables-drinkables-smokables, ...and monkeys.

J (in the typical French acent): Hey, look at the monkeys...
(there were monkeys on the road, with more coming down from the trees)
Me: Yeah...

J: Such a nice life. Just sit, eat, and do nothing.

Me: yeah. and look at us...so many worries and concerns. running around all our lives...

J: and for what...?

Me: I think evolution might not have been such a great idea after all...

(Laughter)

^

Where are the people I once knew?
Where are the people who once knew me?

All those friends have long since gone
Blown and scattered like autumn leaves
some are lawyers, some are thieves
some are now behind the sun

The past is a rabid bitch. No lovebite, this. No vaccine, no salve.
And no escape, either.
The thing is, I let you do this. Gently correct your longsighted aim, and help you place the stake on the right spot on my chest. But this has gone on long enough. No more. At least, not till the masochism resurfaces.

^

Waqt ne kiya kya haseen sitam
Tum rahe na tum, hum rahe na hum.

Beqaraar dil is tarah mile
jis tarah kabhi hum judaa na the
Tum bhi kho gaye, hum bhi kho gaye
Ek raah par chalke do kadam

Waqt ne kiya kya haseen sitam
Tum rahe na tum, hum rahe na hum...

Some things require no explanation.
Some words require no further edification.

^