It’s a ride

On these long rides through the city and outside, I meet a lot of people. No, I don’t meet them. More like make brief eye contact and back on the track. When I say a lot, it means really a lot. Believe me, a la Trump. There are the shy kids muffled in between the parents on their two wheelers. Grabbing a look at this lunatic going alongside them. I try to go as fast as I can, sometimes it faster than most of the side traffic the bikes, and the autos and a lot of cars, when within the city limits.

There are the kids sitting inside their BMWs/Audis, who watch as I zip past the paused cavalcade. Their eyes light up in sync with my lights. I have those jittery lights, a white one on the front and a red one on the back. Dancing to a sombre tune, protecting me by flashing at strangers. I make it a point to wink at every kid who makes eye contact. That’s all that they can see of me through the masked helmet. Only the eyes and the shoulder of my nose. Some wink back. Most are caught off guard. It’s a happy feeling.

Then there are the adults. Where do I begin? I know, the couples, who hug each other tightly as they move across the turf. It seems no matter how fast he drives, at the next signal, I am there to see them. Pervert much? No, that’s how bad the traffic is. I can always catch up. They don’t pay too much attention. There is a nagging feeling. When will I see a she driving with a he behind on one of those raucous machines? Is that something you’d like to see? Anyway, I digress, perhaps another post.

The bad episodes. During these seconds of rage, I’d like to give the person a piece of mind and/or my fist. But as Buddha once said(or so they say), this moment shall pass. The wrong way dude who keeps his helmet on the side mirror and a smile on his face. Worse, the wrong way car, bungling along even as people show their hands in disgust. The left side over-takers, who show their daredevilry on the roads. Hope they do that in other aspects of their lives as well. The screechers, who like to like to leave a mark on the ear drum. Again illuminating the fact light does indeed travel faster than sound. The breakers, who make it a point to overtake and slow it down to a crawl. It reminds me of Newton’s Second Law of Motion. Say hello to Inertia. The biggest of them all, the entire crowd of single driving people. I don’t hate them. But I do hope it’s worth the cost borne by the society.

And now the good parts. The random thumbs up from across lanes. The random pieces of advice. Once I was asked to shift to a lower gear, when I was already on the first. Some slow down next to me, smile and wave away. Some want to talk. Once I was asked if I am high. To give them credit, my face wasn’t really visible and I had some shades protecting my eyes. One person on the highway slowed down, drove behind me in the night. Showed me the light for a few kilometers. Then some small talk, and in Kannada. FYI, Me Kannada gothilla. I think he appreciated it, maybe he will get his kids a bike soon. These put a spring in my pedal, and sweeten the journey. A kid or two look at me, then look at cycle, then me. A broad smile and a three star rating on their fingers. I imagine a young sounding “Nice!”.

Well, I am human too. Quite a few times, I have been the bungling caboose, the root of all evil, that idiot on the cycle, etc. I would have been roadkill a few times if it weren’t for the kind samaritans on the road. Tough love, that’s the word. The horn followed by the glare that says I love what you are doing man, but don’t push it. The howling “hey” that says be careful, in a not-so-polite undertone. I am grateful.

To all the things I haven’t written about yet, maybe another day, another ride.