I don’t know where I’m goin
but I sure know where I’ve been
hanging on the promises in songs of yesterday.
An’ I’ve made up my mind, I ain’t wasting no more time
but here I go again, here I go again.

Kick. And you’re ready to rock & roll.

 

It’s been close to a week since I got back.

Long weekend is coming up ‘coz of Diwali and suddenly we hear this ‘ting’ in our heads.

Who’s we?

Me

Nash – Our Creative Director. One of the most creative and fantastic person I’ve ever come across.

The pencil / mouse / paintbrush in his hand is a magic wand. (err..just in case you reading this, our appraisals are coming up)

And Parag – Extraordinary person. Nicest and happiest person in the world.

I’m sure when he came into this world he was the only baby who came out laughing and his first words were ‘Stock Market’.

Usually a typical conversation between the three of us goes something like this:

Parag: ‘Nash gandu tu Goan tha, Goan hai aur Goan rahega…humesha.’

Nash: ‘Bhen****! Yeh kya joke hai kya?

Gaurang: ‘Kya chalu hai?’

Parag: ‘Gaurang I tell you what this Nash na…’

Gaurang: ‘This Nash what?’

Nash: ‘Yeah what are you saying?’

Parag: ‘Bayalis tape hai mere paas (in South Indian accent)’

Nash: ‘What?’

Gaurang: ‘What?’

Parag: ‘Let’s go out for lunch.’

Nash: ‘What?’

Gaurang: ‘What?’

Gaurang: ‘But Nash you are a Goan. Admit it.’

Parag: ‘Hahahha…Feni’.

Nash:’fuckers get out of my cabin!’

Parag: ‘Chal yaar Gaurang, forget him.’

Gaurang: ‘Sigh…I know, bloody inconsiderate bugger.’

Nash: ‘What the…’

OK, so now I have an Enfield. Nash already has one and has done some super trips to Himachal, Rajasthan etc.

We all are wanderers. We all love the outdoors. And we all are restless. O yeah, restless we are. And we just love exploring the unknown, unheard of places that ‘tourists’ usually don’t go to.

We didn’t know that, really, till our first trip together. We didn’t know that this would be the beginning of many more fantastic trips.

So we decide to go during Diwali. We just look up this place called Harnai on the map, some 250 KMs from Mumbai on the Konkan coast and decide that’s the place.

We don’t have much details, we don’t even know what it’s gonna be like but we just decide to

go for it.

Did I tell you that we’ve started calling ourselves the ‘Huddlers’?

Hahaha not really, but it pisses Nash off. He hates the word so I and Parag make sure he hears the word at least 10 times a day.

To cut a long story short, before we left we did some warm up exercises on the road (freaking people out) and did the huddle before riding away. And now it’s just become a ritual.

So we finally decide to go.

Nash takes permission from his GF and Parag makes sure the Stock Market is not on the downswing.

The permissions and apprehensions taken care of, we are all set to rock.

Wednesday, 07^th November, 2007

Circa 7.00 PM, at work.

‘Guys we gotta leave early ok’

‘Yeah’

‘Yeah, yeah. Let’s leave around 8 AM’

Thursday, 08^th November, 2007

Circa 5.00 PM, somewhere in Thane.

‘Hi Parag’

‘Wazzup dude’

‘yeh kya time hai kya nikalne ka’

‘Hum thoda lateho gaye’

‘thoda?’

(Little did we know that this would also turn into some sort of ritual – Till date we’ve somehow never managed to start in the morning)

We travel the most treacherous roads ever known to mankind – Thane and Mumbra – and get on the Mumbai-Goa highway.

It soon starts getting dark. But it’s nice to get away from the city.

Parag’s riding pillion with me and we are lost in our thoughts.

You come across little things during such trips that simply make your day.

On a long empty stretch of road with fields on either side, a huge flock of birds start flying over-head, in the same direction that we were headed. It was so wondrous! We look up and ride like that for half a minute, under the birds!

  

We ride for some 120 KMs and realise we’ll need to get off the highway a little ahead and traverse through secluded interior roads at night. The locals at Mangaon advise us not to and we agree whole-heartedly.

We find a spacious room (with AC!).

Eat / talk / jokes / walk / ice-cream / Zzzzzzzz

Friday, 09^th November

7.00 Am.

I’m up early and go for a small walk, have 2/3 cups of some fantastic tea and just wander about lazily. It’s so much fun to wake up away from the city. The roads are foggy. It’s the perfect setting.

Reminds me of some movies by my most favourite, most crazed about director in the whole wide world – Karan the love guru Johar. Oh yeah!

8.00 Am.

 I’m getting bored.

8.30 Am.

The lovely ladies decide to wake up and get ready.

They claim that I kick and move and talk in my sleep.

I don’t know but more of that later.

  

9.45 Am.

Scene: 2 Enfields are kick-started and ride off into the sunset. Er..sunrise. Err…fog

Ok let’s try again.

Scene : 2 Enfields ride off

Visual : Sleepy town, long winding road.

SFX : Thump thump

Background Score : Morrison – keep your eyes on the road and your hands up on the wheel

Off we go towards Dapoli.

And I was just kidding about Karan Johar. He’s not my fav. I am not particularly fond of leaves falling, to music, in the background. And I’m straight. Enough said.

I love DDLJ though.

We need to get off the highway at Lonere Phata and head towards Dapoli and carry on till harnai which is 30 minutes away from Dapoli.

It’s when you get off these highways that the real trip starts.

Lazy meandering rivers, quant little villages, surprised locals, wonderful little bridges, trees, lots of trees, secluded roads, ghats, small little dhaba perched on a mountain in the middle of nowhere…we pass them all. No doubt we keep stopping every now and then to click pics, eat, drink, pee, and just soak in the scenery.

Slowly and steadily we reach Harnai.

Harnai just pops in your face.

It went something like this:

Trees, jungles, road, road, trees, small ghats, trees, road, road and boom!

Suddenly the scenery opens up and you see the ocean and a massive beach that doesn’t have a single human being. It’s right next to the road.

How can you not stop. It just happens so suddenly that it simply leaves you breathless.

1.00 PM, Harnai Beach

We get on the beach and it’s just us. No one else. Nothing. Nadda.

Some pic takin session happens and then Point-Dexter Parag decides to ride my bike in

Knee-deep water.

For some reason he’s under the impression that Royal Enfields are super-human…and amphibious.

The bike starts to sputter and Parag feels the bike is talking to him.

He’s got a bigger than Mt. Everest smile on his face, the wind in his hair, the world passing by at dizzying, death-defying speed of exactly 10 KMPH.

The poor Pahadi bike of mine who’s seeing a beach for the first time comes to a griiindddinggg halt, or should I say sputterrring halt.

We look at each other. And huddle.

 (…this is not the end, this is just the beginning)

October 2007

Is kahani mein action hai, emotion hai, drama hai, romance hai, sex nahin hai aur suspense hai.

My ‘hatke’ story begins in mid-October.

Kilos of medicines, 12 ECGs, 124 panic attacks, 36 visits to the doctor later with fear in my eyes and hope in my soul I take off for Mandi, my home-town in Himachal Pradesh, to de-stress and refresh and rejuvenate and relax and smile and drink lots of chai and ponder and wander and think about life and other bed-time stories.

And well, in the midst of this highly emotional drama I buy a Royal Enfield Thunderbird and in true filmy, oppressed, repressed, depressed, small-town hero takes on the world style, say up yours to the world and ride back from Manali to Delhi.  

Not my first bike but road-trip? Well for some reason I think I’m Rocky Balboa (part 6) and decide to ride 650 Kilometers. And by some divine intervention and because I thought that wasn’t challenging enough, I ride at night.

At the end of it all it felt good. It felt so good.

Now I know jack-sh*t about Enfields, I know jack-shit about road-trips but at that moment what I did know is that I can do it and I want to do it. And I Did!

October 23^rd, 2007.

I am in Mandi to De-stress and get away from Mumbai. But now I feel like going to Mumbai to de-stress from Mandi. News breaks out about me buying the bike and the roads get deserted and my phone never stops ringing. My Mom, my cousins, my friends, my relatives take out a ‘morcha’ called ‘No Gaurang. No.’

I’ve had enough. I literally kidnap my cousin, 3 friends and ride away to Manali.

They try to brainwash me again in Manali. Now I’m apprehensive. From Rocky Balboa I turn into Fredo Corleone. But I enjoy Manali nevertheless.

We stay in the quant and secluded Mountaineering Institute, courtesy my mom’s friend who’s a director there. There’s no one there and we have the whole hostel to ourselves.

Why is that in situations like these you start thinking of movies like Hostel 1 & 2, Saw 1,2,3 and American Pie?

October 24^th, 2007.

We decide to ride to Rohtang (the gateway to Ladkah). Or rather I drag the 3 bums out of bed and ride to Rohtang.

En route we come to this petrol pump which has a sign-board saying – Last petrol pump in the valley of Gods. Just ahead there’s a sign-board saying – Leh 450 Kms. Ohh the seeds are sown.

I just keep staring at the signs when suddenly I hear ‘gandu chal na hum late ho jayenge’. Sigh.

Assh*les.

So we keep going but mid-way they just decide to not go to Rohtang and after some tea we head back to Manali. Everyone who passed me on the way back must have been wondering why this guy has a permanent frown on his face.

We have a really late lunch at this peaceful little restaurant by the river-side.

And well, we head back for Mandi after Sundown.

Oh how I thank thee for that.

It was by far the best ride of my life!

Full moon, dark, not a soul in site, not a single vehicle, a meandering river on the left, towering mountains on the right, winding and steep roads, howling wolves.

Ok maybe no wolves but we did see a dog and it did look a wolf. No kidding.

Chilled to the bone we reach Mandi. I climb into the bed under 3 Quilts and that’s when reality hits me like an ‘Ali Punch’. I’m supposed to head for Delhi tomorrow morning and the brainwashing seems to have worked. I’m scared. I’m freaking out. I’m lonely. And for some reason the item number ‘Khallas’ keeps playing in my head. Wtf?

October 25^th, 2007.

I wake up and go to the Raj Mahal hotel in Mandi to have a solo breakfast. I need to think.

And I start talking to myself. The conversation goes something like this:

Gaurang: let’s just go.

Gaurang: Hmm Omlette or fried eggs?

Gaurang: Damn, I need to go to the ATM.

Gaurag: errr…hello…what about Delhi?

Gaurang: Shut up. I think I’ll have one omelette and one fried egg.

Gaurang: we got 500 Kms to ride we should start early.

Gaurang: holy! That blond foreigner is hot!

Gaurang: Damn! Yeah she is!

Gaurang: Hmm maybe I could offer her  a ride till Delhi.

Gaurang: oh god! Delhi! Yes. No. yes. No.

Gaurang: Beam me up Scotty.

I wander around a bit. It’s afternoon. I’m sitting at a friend’s shop having some chai.

And Halleluiah! The one-second-flash happens. I decide to go.

I say my goodbyes, score some ‘green-leaf-which-is-rubbed-and-then-smoked’ for my friends

back at work.  

Now that it’s public about me going the damn people tell me not to travel at night. Oh god I’m gonna kill them. Kill them!

Nothing can change my mind now. I start packing whatever’s left and get a call from a friend who says he’ll come along with me ‘coz he needs to go to Delhi for some work.

Whew, at least my relatives and mom start breathing easy ‘coz I have someone with me.

What am I some lollypop sucking school kid?

 

But anyhow…we start from Mandi at 6PM. Yipee Kay Aye!

  

So my story begins… with a thunderous roar of the Enfield, the biggest goofy grin on my face, 5 fucking bags and ‘Jesus he knows me’ playing in the background (ekdum Filmy style), we begin! I start on my first ever bike trip!

I leave behind everything. The health problems. The relatives. The tensions. The stress. The fear. The apprehensions. I AM ROCKY BALBOA all over again!

Same day 11.30PM

The thunderous roar is now a whimper. The 5 bags suddenly now feel like 500 KGs.  Parts I didn’t even know existed my body start hurting. The soundtrack in the background changes to ‘Life is a lemon and I want my money back’.

 

October 26^th, 12.00 AM.

We’re barely 20 minutes away from entering Punjab. Goodbye lovely Himachal.

I stop the bike in the middle of nowhere and tell my friend ‘let’s have a last smoke in Himachal’.

It’s beautiful. Pitch dark. Cold. Just beautiful.

And just like that all the pains disappear. Just like that.

We enter Punjab and decide to stop at a Dhaba.

I slow down and from nowhere this Bull starts charging at the bike. Hahaha…I rev up the bike like never before. Didn’t I tell you this story has everything!

So ride we did and kept riding and riding and riding till we reached Chandigarh and literally crashed at a friend’s place.

 

11.30 AM

We start from Chandigarh and by-pass the city. The road is beautiful, cutting through farms and fields and beautiful little villages. And we get on the National Highway. From there it’s just one looong boring shot to Delhi. You just keep riding like zombies ‘cos the road is ram-rod straight for some 200 KMs.

10.00 PM

Honk. Cars. Buses. Traffic. Signals. More cars. More buses. Crowds. Honk. Honk. Honk. Pollution.

Ab Dilli durr nahin.

October 27^th, 2007.

Time to head back to Mumbai. I load up my bike in the Rajdhani Express and start my journey.

It’s back to the grind after 2 days. For some reason I smile at every damn person in the train.

The Manali-Mandi-Delhi ride keeps playing in my mind over and over again, like I was watching a slide-show. I sleep with a smile on my face, wake up with a smile.

Don’t you just love happy endings?

October 28^th, 10.00 AM, Mumbai Central Station

Arrey! Yeh kya, Himachal Pradesh ki bike? Octroi bhara hai kya? Tax bhara hai kya?

Papers dikhao! Zara side pe aao – aapko chahiye to thoda chai paani de do aur bike le jao.

Hahahha…it’s good to be back. Or maybe not.

I’m back but I never really came back from that road-trip…

 

 

It happens. Don’t know why but it just does.

And it makes you do some crazy things. Crazy enough to try and start writing about it.

Hi, I’m Gaurang, creative head by profession, wanderer by heart.

To put it in a cheesy, clichéd way (the way we ad-men do most of the time) – it ees the lust for wanderlust. I say!

Read on for some of my experiences since October 2007 (it’s when my biggest one-second-flash happened).

Is this a travel blog? No.

Will this give you instructions and maps and routes? No.

Is it life changing? No.

Is it about places? No.

Is it about the greater good and the love for mankind? Umm…maybe.

Is it a biker-blog? No.

I don’t know. You tell me. Maybe it’s a little bit of everything and then some.