Monsoon days !!!

Monsoons are magical. The thick multilayered clouds are way different form the whiffy and pasty out of season wanderer. For a biker like me the rains are a great time to hit the roads. Last weekend was one such night. A saturday evening movie took me onto airport road and it was pouring real hard. Needles falling painfully on my face, hands twisted on the accelerator, eyes focussed on bleary vision trying to make out the road from the pavement. I sped fast and away. The roads were surprisingly empty of the rickshaws and other sensitiver bikers. Just a few large cars, gingerly inching ahead and avoiding the water-traps called potholes. I zigged and zagged through the crowd and just wondered "dont these cars have better shocks ?". Windows shut and jazzy panel lights lit, I cuold feel the warmth of the family inside these cars. But on the bike is my world and I am the master of it.

Sitting inside these behemoths were kids playing with water streaming down the window panes. people young and world listining to Raaydiohhh cityyyy.... There were even a couple of busses on the road but not like usual days. The road was empty. Everyone must be waiting in their offices for the rains to stop. Thankfully I dont suffer from hydrophobia. As I reached domulur the traffic was stopped to allow some politician to whizz past. The motely crowd of cars soon accumulated and I found myself surrounded by cars. One lone biker in a car world. Looked like America. It was raining harder and a couple of claustrophobic cars, opened their windows to savour the monsson sprays and the hindi song of the century wafted out "Rim jim Gire Saawan..." I grew hungry waiting for the blocade to be lifted. I switched off the engine and opend out the shourma... It was wet.. On an usual day, I would have thrown it out. But today I was in my adventurous best. I was wearing my favourite blue shirt and my lucky Nicholas (I used to work in mumbai with NPIL) tie. Today was a great day rain and all. Completely drenched wet and soaked, the soggy shourma was the driest thing around. I ate and ate and relished the piece of meal in the middle of the monsoon. Vow!! The car engines stopped and I could hear all the conversations now. Moms asking kids about homeworks, loud cellphone conversations about codes, releases and invoices, politics, movies and everything else. Sudenly there was silence and I found the eyes peering from the two cars either side of me. Looked to me like the collective wondering of people "what is this bloke doing in the rain" ? "what a crappy life ?" or "I wished I can do that ?" or Just an empty glare at this freak of nature called Vasu. Here I was standing there, hunched over my gast tank with one leg on the kick starter waiting to bring the beast to life and scorch the goddam roads. The moment of silence did not last long..

The pilot cars zipped past with NSG cover and the blacked out windows of the stately ambazidor boomed past. The engines started and the music was revived. The "purr" of the monsoon rains was once again drowned by the cacaphony of life.. kids back to their games, mom back to her quizzing, couples back to their bickerings. Even the mobiles buzzed alive.

Soon it was green and the moment passed. I just smiled and lied to myself, "I would never give up my bike".