Tag-Archive for » Bike «

Wednesday, March 03rd, 2010 | Author:

” I dont know why I love her like I do
All the changes you put me through
Take my money, my cigarettes
I havent seen the worst of it yet
I wanna know that youll tell me
I love to stay” *

Kickstart lungs is the name of the condition you develop when a single hunk of two stroke machinery wont start. Life comes telescoping down the funnel spigot of fate’s drain and you are more than overwhelmed by the end. Buried, snowed under the absence of further possibilities. If it happens to you in a delhi summer, you get wet with sweat and your breath imitates a pair of leaky cloth bellows. Malviya nagar girls, mostly fair – the ones with heels on their chappals are distinctly uncool while the ones in flat chappals are mod. Things you can’t notice then but remember later.

Beer cans in my bag, the girl at the end of the road waiting. Market boys offer to push while making suggestions that i slug a beer there itself to replenish loss of body fluids – dosent get too far. Call the Coyote who tells me to tilt and kick. This after an hours attempts have run me argound like a beached whale. Thinking things like, ‘ah, milady will take care of the shambles the bike has made me, I get on and ride the thing (Stranger, they call it!)finally; hoping the breeze will dry my shirt out.

“I dont know why you treat me so bad
Think of all the things we could have had
Love is an ocean that I cant forget
My sweet sixteen I would never regret” *

Get from station to station like, to find milady engrossed in a movie. For some (obvious to yez-riders!!!) reason i don’t bother to ask which one it was. Hang around and face the cold wave moving from her face glued to the monitor towards me. I take it into the kitchen and get the beers and act like the leftover vegetables from yesterday’s weekly market.

“I dont know why I love you like I do
All the troubles you put me through
Sixteen candles there on my wall
And here am I the biggest fool of them all” *

After setting the poor girl up, can any man affect a cool and suave attitude when on the way the yezdi took an hour to start? I give up and offer this lil bit of advise:

Avoid dates when yr bike wouldn’t start along the way.
Maybe it’s the hand of fate, maybe it’s your clutch plates, in any case its a loosing fight that all of us who know what it feels like smile at the memories of the pain and understand that to own a y-bike is to take on a personal cross that you bear much to the cynosure of all around but the vital connection with the bike. I swear, its a rare yezdi owner who will leave the bike behind and continue.

“I wanna know that youll tell me
I love to stay
Take me to the river and drop me in the water
Dip me in the river, drop me in the water
Washing me down, washing me down.” *

After the long fight trying to start the bike, you get like Hemmingway’s Old Man and the Sea and you no longer want to leave behind what nearly killed you because even this has become part of you and your lifestory and regardless of the ugly bits of the experience, what ever it is- it is yours. It’s like a connection or a bond with something – anything, which takes you to the limits of yourself or depths and stays with you through it all. Can’t explain it too much, it all sounds ‘fishy.’ In case of Yezdis, I just call it the Union Mechanica. A mystical union between man and machine.

Peace and twin-pipe rule,
– arunesh
* Take me to the River (song lyrics) – Talking Heads (which i am fixiated by because adrian bellew plays this excrutiating solo in the studio version which reminds me of the sound made by a running seizure the yezdi happens)

This article first printed at http://yezdidiaries.blogspot.com/2008/06/kickstart-lungs-is-name-of-condition.html

Friday, September 18th, 2009 | Author:

I wake

I roll

I clean my pipes

I clean your panels

We roll out

as per plan

I leave you

(maybe out in the rain)

You rust and chew my butt

I leave you again

You decide you dont like my plans

I pick her up

You chew me up again

I give up

Either of you will call me again

Maybe I need another plan.

I roll

I plan and pet your panels at the same time

I polish your panels

open communication channels

I paint your pipes –

weekend attention thing types

etcetera,…

We roll again;

She dosen’t.

Category: Poems, Thoughts  | Tags: , , ,  | One Comment