I had just returned from a ride. Having parked the bike I looked up at my window just to check if everyone’s asleep or awake. I came home and headed straight to my room. Pop comes out a bike magazine from under the jacket which I bought on my way. I put down all my gear namely the helmet, the gloves, and the jacket. The computer is switched on, followed by Winamp playing songs in shuffle mode. I dropped down on the bed with the magazine in my hand first going through all the pages to check what catches my eye and then reading through each of the articles in detail.
“New BIKES are coming to India”, “Faster BIKES being developed”, “Concept Versions of BIKES being introduced”, “Road testing of 150 cc BIKES”. I read through each of them carefully while replying to my girlfriend whose SMS’s said that she won’t be able to talk tonight. So I’m left alone with my first love BIKES all ready to be lost in her …err…them.
This was not the first time it had happened. The thought of a new bike only had me hooked on to it. Fantasizing about bikes goes way back to my childhood. The best fantasies are the ones that a human being experiences as a child. Everything’s possible in the dimensions of his mind. He then keeps growing and so does a certain fantasy which he holds on to ‘forever and ever’.
It all started with my dad buying a shiny yellow toy sports bike look alike which to me, was faster than any bike on planet earth or at least the neighbor’s kid’s toy bike. The next few days were filled with the whole house going ‘VRRRROOOM VRRROOM, BRRR BRR BRRR and all sorts of engines sounds my bike (rather my throat) could make. This bike could take on anything and anyone and could go anywhere. It could ride all day on the flooring or jump in air and keep flying in the air, if it got bored of the flooring. It could run in circles on the insides of utensils and, buckets even if they were filled with water. It could climb closets vertically or ride along windows. Hell, it could even climb my grandpa’s pot belly and ride on it till his annoyed grunts started to sound like another bike engine growling.
One fine day it had an accident (a different kind of fantasy of mine) and so it HAD to be repaired. I stripped it down to the last part with my dad’s toolkit only to realize that my engineering skills were limited to breaking it down and not putting it back together. My dad swore not to buy me a toy bike again. I guess he feared I might grow up to become a garage mechanic and he obviously had dreams much more ambitious than that. So the bike fantasy was replaced by fights with Skeletor, teaming up with He-man and enjoying Disneyland with Mickey and Donald. But the love for bikes did not die there.
One fine day my dear little idiot box decided to air a series called Street Hawk with a guy clad in black clothes and riding a bike which was equally black all over. It could go faster than all other vehicles, could jump over cars, could chase bad guys and also save the girl in the end. Wow, this was new! Dad too seemed to enjoy this and hence let me watch it. This brought back all the bike fantasies I cherished as a kid and also made room for some new ones. My neighbor got a new bike and since his son was my friend I would get an occasional ride on his dad’s bike and I would go of to sleep every night wishing that I had one of my own.
My need for bikes was later supplemented by a bicycle. It dint have an engine but what the hell …my throat could still give that extra grunt. I would ride it all day with my other friends and soon a “BIKER GANG” was formed. Impressing chicks wasn’t the agenda. Getting even with other boys was. Street hawk had indeed inspired me and I turned to doing wheelies (flipping the front wheel up), stoppies (flipping the rear wheel up) and skids. My ultimate fantasy then: Become the coolest rider in the group, which I had achieved.
The next few years went by watching older guys ride bikes and drooling over their bikes. Occasionally we’d see a cute looking girl seated behind a guy and that concept slowly dawned upon us. Getting female attention was also important. So now it was time for me to graduate from riding a cycle to learning a bike. I had to learn it. The next few years went begging with cousins to teach me a bike, who wondered that this guy couldn’t touch his feet to the ground when seated on a bike, why the hell does he want to learn it? I was left with my bicycle again. My ultimate fantasy then: Become a bike rider. Period.
I entered college life and we moved into a new place near my college. Moving into a new place gave a new life to my bike fantasies. Everything but my college was far off so a bike seemed the need of the hour or at least I’d make it sound like. And my enthusiasm towards riding a bike gave my parents the idea to finally get me a bike. And they did get me one as soon as I turned 18. The mother of all fantasies of owning my own bike had turned true even before the fantasy of riding it had. Soon I learned to ride and I ride it to this very day. Another fantasy turned to reality.
In the next few years the love for bikes kept growing. It has actually grown with me. What started with a plastic bike which could ride on my grandpa’s tummy, then turned into Street Hawk which then again turned into a bicycle that had ultimately turned into a real bike. The movie Top Gun inspired a new fantasy which had the opposite sex sitting behind you and enjoying the thrill of the ride like you do and loves you like you love the bike. It was not just the movie though. Observations of the outside world also induced that feeling so to say. Another excuse is evolution of the human mind. As of now, this fantasy too has been turned to reality. I must say, this reality has been the sweetest of them all.
But then it’s not about impressing your friends with your riding skills, getting some female attention or being popular with a neat looking machine under your ass. The real fantasy is above all this. It’s just the thrill of being on a bike, riding it fast with the wind blowing in your face, and performing those occasional stunts to get a new high. And so my current fantasy is getting a fast bike, mostly a sports bike like the Yamaha R1 and riding it really fast but on a road which allows me to do so. If that has to be a race track then all that makes the dream even nicer. Hope it turns into reality too.
“New BIKES are coming to India”, “Faster BIKES being developed”, “Concept Versions of BIKES being introduced”, “Road testing of 150 cc BIKES”. I read through each of them carefully while replying to my girlfriend whose SMS’s said that she won’t be able to talk tonight. So I’m left alone with my first love BIKES all ready to be lost in her …err…them.
This was not the first time it had happened. The thought of a new bike only had me hooked on to it. Fantasizing about bikes goes way back to my childhood. The best fantasies are the ones that a human being experiences as a child. Everything’s possible in the dimensions of his mind. He then keeps growing and so does a certain fantasy which he holds on to ‘forever and ever’.
It all started with my dad buying a shiny yellow toy sports bike look alike which to me, was faster than any bike on planet earth or at least the neighbor’s kid’s toy bike. The next few days were filled with the whole house going ‘VRRRROOOM VRRROOM, BRRR BRR BRRR and all sorts of engines sounds my bike (rather my throat) could make. This bike could take on anything and anyone and could go anywhere. It could ride all day on the flooring or jump in air and keep flying in the air, if it got bored of the flooring. It could run in circles on the insides of utensils and, buckets even if they were filled with water. It could climb closets vertically or ride along windows. Hell, it could even climb my grandpa’s pot belly and ride on it till his annoyed grunts started to sound like another bike engine growling.
One fine day it had an accident (a different kind of fantasy of mine) and so it HAD to be repaired. I stripped it down to the last part with my dad’s toolkit only to realize that my engineering skills were limited to breaking it down and not putting it back together. My dad swore not to buy me a toy bike again. I guess he feared I might grow up to become a garage mechanic and he obviously had dreams much more ambitious than that. So the bike fantasy was replaced by fights with Skeletor, teaming up with He-man and enjoying Disneyland with Mickey and Donald. But the love for bikes did not die there.
One fine day my dear little idiot box decided to air a series called Street Hawk with a guy clad in black clothes and riding a bike which was equally black all over. It could go faster than all other vehicles, could jump over cars, could chase bad guys and also save the girl in the end. Wow, this was new! Dad too seemed to enjoy this and hence let me watch it. This brought back all the bike fantasies I cherished as a kid and also made room for some new ones. My neighbor got a new bike and since his son was my friend I would get an occasional ride on his dad’s bike and I would go of to sleep every night wishing that I had one of my own.
My need for bikes was later supplemented by a bicycle. It dint have an engine but what the hell …my throat could still give that extra grunt. I would ride it all day with my other friends and soon a “BIKER GANG” was formed. Impressing chicks wasn’t the agenda. Getting even with other boys was. Street hawk had indeed inspired me and I turned to doing wheelies (flipping the front wheel up), stoppies (flipping the rear wheel up) and skids. My ultimate fantasy then: Become the coolest rider in the group, which I had achieved.
The next few years went by watching older guys ride bikes and drooling over their bikes. Occasionally we’d see a cute looking girl seated behind a guy and that concept slowly dawned upon us. Getting female attention was also important. So now it was time for me to graduate from riding a cycle to learning a bike. I had to learn it. The next few years went begging with cousins to teach me a bike, who wondered that this guy couldn’t touch his feet to the ground when seated on a bike, why the hell does he want to learn it? I was left with my bicycle again. My ultimate fantasy then: Become a bike rider. Period.
I entered college life and we moved into a new place near my college. Moving into a new place gave a new life to my bike fantasies. Everything but my college was far off so a bike seemed the need of the hour or at least I’d make it sound like. And my enthusiasm towards riding a bike gave my parents the idea to finally get me a bike. And they did get me one as soon as I turned 18. The mother of all fantasies of owning my own bike had turned true even before the fantasy of riding it had. Soon I learned to ride and I ride it to this very day. Another fantasy turned to reality.
In the next few years the love for bikes kept growing. It has actually grown with me. What started with a plastic bike which could ride on my grandpa’s tummy, then turned into Street Hawk which then again turned into a bicycle that had ultimately turned into a real bike. The movie Top Gun inspired a new fantasy which had the opposite sex sitting behind you and enjoying the thrill of the ride like you do and loves you like you love the bike. It was not just the movie though. Observations of the outside world also induced that feeling so to say. Another excuse is evolution of the human mind. As of now, this fantasy too has been turned to reality. I must say, this reality has been the sweetest of them all.
But then it’s not about impressing your friends with your riding skills, getting some female attention or being popular with a neat looking machine under your ass. The real fantasy is above all this. It’s just the thrill of being on a bike, riding it fast with the wind blowing in your face, and performing those occasional stunts to get a new high. And so my current fantasy is getting a fast bike, mostly a sports bike like the Yamaha R1 and riding it really fast but on a road which allows me to do so. If that has to be a race track then all that makes the dream even nicer. Hope it turns into reality too.
