BiKronicles 2: Mini revisits (Panchgani-Mahabaleshwar)

Deep ink blue. That’s how I feel this morning. To replicate that heavy feeling is a looming dark cloud just outside my window with ‘Monday’ and ‘Long weekend is over’ etched in it somewhere. I can’t shake it off with my cuppa chai or even exchanging sweet morning msgs with my love. All I can do is wait for more colors to dissipate this one.

My excitement post getting our babe (REClassic500) was synonymous to a 5yr old being told they can go to Paris. Disney Land. Sit on ALL rides. Buy everything they touch. And the likes. I think it made me happier than Abeer to get her. I haven’t stopped planning trips, gear, safety, routes and what not. The last week of August took both of us by the neck. We were burned out, exhausted and I hadn’t slept in days staying up from 3am to 3am literally. It was a 4 working day week and that Friday was off was the bane and boon of our existence. It meant long weekend at the cost of a short weekday. We didn’t have the capacity to even sit and consciously map out where we were about to traverse. But I found the time to bug friends who had been on this route many times. Thus, fell our plan into place.

The day before the trip, I was zombied and my worst – a state my friend Simin and I used to synonymize with the zombies of the ‘Walking Dead’ series. I was battling some serious workload, packing off 2 stubborn cats with help from my momma and staying up all night. This resulted in a bit of a delay the trip day and forgetting my helmet at home causing the grump start. Helmet retrieved, arguments done, we started off. I was in severe discomfort and pain due to my monthly monster cycle coupled with no nutrition or sleep. If I thought I was in trouble, 3x that was the compromised safety of my boyfriend aka rider. I controlled myself from not physically assaulting him. He was loving and sweet and managed to make the journey bearable and as we intended all month long.

Our 1^st detour from plan was to stop in Pune and stay the night rather than continue nonstop to Panchgani and Mahabaleshwar. This was for both our benefit. The Ganpati weekend provided enough maneuverable traffic and obscene volume of music everywhere. We crashed in, slept like 2 heavy logs, did a bit of sheesha at a shady outlet named Jashn and then some amazing sizzler dinner at 11 East Street. Ambition and some lightheadedness from the hookah made us wanna catch a late night movie. Instead we called it a night cuz my man here loves a 5am wake up and a high-speed readiness to take to the road. I am now used to this routine and can only stress on the benefits of always hitting the road early; NO traffic, NO pollution, NO annoying people, NO heat dust or smog, NO dullness and so on. It’s beautiful and romantic I might add.

Day 2, 30 August, we left for an all day trip to Panchgani and Mahabaleshwar. I learned a lot about Abeer on this trip. It’s not just a ride or a trip, it’s a journey. He just pauses, breathes in places, checks his watch and is ready to move on… very characteristic of his own personal attitude. No looming, lingering, or hovering. I, on the other hand, am all about the loom, hover, hang. Until I have not completely soaked in what I needed to, I just cannot leave. My logic was we traveled all the way; hence, we must do justice to the destination. Our time allotted to the justice-ing was off between each other. But as always we found balance. We let each other be but we couldn’t be more in sync if we tried. He is kinder, softer and more attentive on such getaways. The phones get some rest and I get so much more face time with him. That’s why I’m addicted to these times and journeys. In the city, it’s a challenge. The phone (his Nexus 5) is the 2^nd wife I have had to adopt and give an occasional smile to. Anyways back to the road. We battled some pleasant and not so pleasant rains. The not so pleasant part is attributed to bad roads, potholes the size of craters and not so easily visible until too late and Abeer’s not so strong vision. Managing the gear, a huge helmet and glasses is not as easy as it looks convenient. I just kept his and my spirits up; we played road games scoring how many potholes he missed versus not and then kept count. On a long open road with no visible vehicle either in the front or back of yours, silly childlike games keep you going J When I would be upset and not respond and sit quiet for hours, Abeer, my love, would break that monotony with a big 5 in the air out of nowhere and I would wonder what just happened. I would see he just dodged a pothole and was scoring for us… we would burst into giggles and there would end our pseudo-feud. Silly me.

After what seemed like 3hours straight, we were up a steep hill climb, the valley view getting more picturesque, and the turns getting more sharper and dangerous. The view immediately took me back to the time I would be dropped off to boarding school by mum at the start of the academic year. The treachery of knowing I wouldn’t see her for a year would be eased by me riding in an expensive comfy cab in her lap. Here I was, behind my man, showing him parts of the state (Maharashtra) and places of my childhood. He loved and marveled at everything. We reached Panchgani at early noon, after a brief stop at Harrisson’s Foley. We went straight to Table Land and witnessed the lake, the valley and a bad angle view of the Devil’s Kitchen. Little walks and views were followed by some much needed Maharashtrian infused lunch. Dosas (very different), missal and ussal pav and what not. We rode some more down the road, passed my school Kimmins High school where I just HAD to squeal, some ogling at lovely homes and properties, and straight through a divine road with intervals of Malas and Mapro depots and signs. Mapro of course dominating with Malas as its sidekick. For the lesser informed, Mapro and Malas are brands/companies who specialize in sweet treats, jelly and fruit confectionary, berries and jams, crush and syrups etc. A whole load of sweet to put you in confectionary heaven. THAT is what I will eventually use to describe the Mapro Farm (an absolute must visit). We were disappointed not to find any fresh strawberries or mulberries that we so desperately chased but realized it’s out of season. We settled for their homemade ice cream and toppings and bought some amazing organic honey and jams to take back. I also shopped some ridiculously cheap scarves and a pair of biking gloves at a Kashmiri handicraft store. In Mumbai, there would be attempts to rip me off with 3 figure demands and much haggling. Here the digits fell to 50 bucks and 250 bucks, respectively. I got greedy and didn’t haggle at all :D

Pause

We rode further down to Mahabaleshwar. Going to some signature points like Kate’s point, Echo valley etc. spent much time there and moved on. It was breathtaking and I managed to steal a pic of 2 haggard, roughed up bikers standing next to each other. Hardly the loved up scene I wished to capture. We stopped by the town’s only CCD and paused for a good amount of time. Drank 2 coffees as my biker boy exclaimed that we were ahead of schedule so we had that precious time to waste and while away. Which we did where our numb behinds finally had restored sensation. Coffee and recommended bathroom breaks after we rode back to Pune. The ride was fantastic through Wai until we hit the traffic of Pune. The welcoming pollution and maneuvering traffic was worse than the downpour we endured on our return journey. We went straight home, cleaned up and went to Dorabjee’s where I ate like I hadn’t been fed in a decade. Wolfed down was more like it with one leg on the chair like a Panchayat head. Everyone else around me thought what a pretty but hungry girl. Wonder why she looks so starved. Hahaha. The rest period was good bonding time. Checks and gossips over music and what we can do next. What trips and what routes. What scenes and what gear. What went wrong and what we can do better. Our amusement for the day was when we passed a group of seasoned Royal Enfield riders who took great offense to our new tan Classic version overtaking their hierarchically synchronized ride. They eventually made some dangerous cuts in traffic on the National highway to prove a point and overtook us… I think my bubblegum pink Vega helmet added insult to injury…. Lol… Boys…

Abeer and our bebe

Mumbai return trip was beautiful and perfect. Relaxed with stops to the smog engulfed Lonavala valley, a cup of boiled butter corn from our usual suspect and going through dewy rainwashed routes. We stopped briefly parallel to Khopoli on a lone route taken only by bikers once you get off the expressway. The scene was straight out of a book or photoshopped magazine cover. We paused to take some pictures which eventually earned us rave reviews and a great many fans (miniscule but great for us). It was EPIC. The city entry was divine followed by nightmare of sore backs, painful legs, near-exploding bladders, growling stomachs and torrential downpour. It was probably the 1^st time in 3 days I just wanted to get off the bike and lay flat and not get back on. Yep it was the too-much-of-a-good thing syndrome. Abeer was exhausted. Through this journey I solemnized that I would fulfil my dream of learning to ride one of these babies and have the ability to take over when Abeer needed a break. If we were gonna be biker hogs then me riding pillion forever would be a very selfish move for him as well as for my dream. So I returned with a good trip, good memories, loads of newfound love for the road, our trips, new passions and my man. I also came back with determination for a better week, a new journey to plan and to learn a new skill :)

Watch out for BiKronicles III. For pictures of the journey, visit my Instagram handle (gatacdo7) and Abeer’s (tipsies).

Not-so-Stationary celebrations

Onamshamsakal and Happy Ganesh Chaturthi to all my friends. The festive half of the year has begun and brings with it joys, thanksgiving, new beginnings, luck and blessings. I wish this to all my friends and families (everywhere and every kind). 

I was supposed to spend a month bedridden with limited and prescribed movement/s by my orthopedic surgeon. Instead his overall treatment of my injury pre-and post-op was anything but the nightmare I experienced with my right leg. Guess that’s what differentiates old school from new specialization. I was asked repeatedly at all times not to stress the leg, not to let it bear too much weight and not to go too far too long on it. I did the BANG opposite of it all. In truth, my spirit was on a high after the miserable slump it had sunk into and I was not gonna let a few bones and plates held together by bionic and titanium screws ruin lil sparks of hope and smiles I had.

I decided I could sleep, slouch and be as useless as ever or I could do something productive with my mind and time. I did both. You see the sleeping, eating, slouching was as important a part of my mental recovery as it was for my physical rest and repair. I enjoyed the art of sleeping as and when my eyelids drooped to waking up when I wished to and not when I panicked and imagined an alarm go off somewhere or 1 really going off somewhere. Complete sleep – a concept and activity that had become alien to me. I also had to battle post-op stationary depression (special medical term coined for me and by me). Staring at a wall or doing absolutely nothing physical turned my mind into the darkness of hell. The medications added to the cauldron of hormones that was already churning within and I imagined myself breaking bangles in full makeup and garb like some scorned Indian soap star.

But…. here is the beauty of the unexpected. Adventures of the broken leg:

• I got to do Lalbaug darshan dragging my wobbly feet but it was worth it and as luck would have it... no waiting! In the interim I stuffed my face with a crab masala thali at Mast Malwani and some modaks followed.
• Culinary delights graced my recovery period and so did a lot of inner-city travel. New and renewed experiences with promise for more. Beef chilli,  crab, duck, chicken, prawn, fish, eggs all graced my plate. In retrospect, it’s not good for the balance of the food chain that I remain hungry. I ate without care and my waistline remained stoic and disciplined.
• I resumed work on 16 Sep after exactly 1 month of hiatus from the corporate tower and surroundings (feel like a working class mango person again). Can’t complain when the bank intimation flashes what’s left of the salary after the economic meltdown.
• Leetal Besouros (a project at Mahalaxmi) are busy at parkour with our Intl guests with whom I had planned back and forth for a year. Kids are doing great and learning in a single file or whatever formation expected of them from Cordelia and Jake – I only wish that they maintain the same discipline and delight when I return. However my guilt for not being around has been replaced with the victory of giving them the free program of new skills #Hurray
• Our Familia de Ouro girl student had an outdoor shoot experience for Save the Children global campaign (truly proud and happy). An accidental conversation with the school buddy landed this short Ad-film: concept of race for survival against genocide and other issues. A fraction of the campaign involves a well-trained and versatile Sonali (Cabaca) from our project who confidently works the camera in 2.5hrs flat. The fact that a GIRL child was doing this pleased and motivated me no end to push for this. Even if it meant midnight coaxing sessions and all day permission-driven emails and calls to get Sonali to come. In the end it was worth it and we (Tulsi and I) filled in the holes to make her feel like a complete star.
• Accidentally met so many friends old and new (Nostalgia): The rakhi brother who thought it appropriate to ask “So… when are you getting married?” bang outside Dadar stn; the school friend cum producer who gave 1 of my girl students a star moment; Simin who finally made the Mumbai trip albeit not in the setting I would have preferred; Marinha who I haven’t met or conversed since OBR; Adi and family after yet another 1 of his epic moments that involved an ER round; Capoeira pals whom I rarely meet (Bombom, Piolho, Gecko, Nisha, Spanty and more)
• PEApod had a meeting in my house and has found 2 new projects to work on before the year end (watch FB page for more). Something finally grabbed my attention.
• Got to hit Shiro’s dance floor after what seemed like eons. And with ladies who were not afraid to dance and be snazzy, cheeky and what not. A night out in high spirits but responsibly conducted is what I needed…. CRAVED for a long time.Missed the mister though.Also, even though I did attempt dress-ups in this phase, nothing did justice like a good ol’ LBD and black shoes stolen from a friend (donated… I meant donated).
• Elsa my darling furry feline delight has turned my house, room and my life topsy turvy. But everyday I’m glad I got him. <3 He did indeed save me and made me human and compassionate again. The boyfriend upon return thought the world of my new calm demeanor. It had some to do with Elsa’s presence but more to do with personal thoughts and choices.
• Finally attended drum circle as an active but amateur participant. Although at the venue I behaved like a veteran with 30 fingers. The freedom of expression with art is 1 that cannot be described or persuaded. And yet again played alongside an unlikely pal – Vivek Soni (party planner to Abeer & Co.)
• Visited the Jehangir art gallery after what seemed like a jump from childhood to adulthood. Remember I last came with friends nearly 10yrs ago. Had it not been for a friend’s invite for an exhibit to honor her late father’s work, I doubt this would be on the menu.
• My obsession with instagram and other online applications. Admit I may’ve gone a tad bit overboard but who’s monitoring anyways. The boyfriend seems to be the single pass gatekeeper to all comments sarcastic and remotely nice.

Some more memories but I can't pen them down [privacy clauses ;)] Meanwhile looking forward to some major changes (unemployment), Navratri (1 legged dandiya), Durga puja (pandal hopping), Diwali (to turn firecracker noise pollution contributor) and Dec (aahh Goa, sun, sand, weddings, love and a lil friend).

I imagined greys and tones of black stained with a bit of color to rule my month. What I really got was an entire color pallet and hues I never imagined mixing and marrying ever before… I thank primarily my love Abeer for that. 

Love the Unexpected or the Unexpected love

“Baby I got you something.” “Really??” *Standing amidst greenery on a rainwashed Sunday morning*

*Frumpy look on her face* *He gives her a beautiful lil elephant keychain*

“I got this from Pune for you” *She smiles*

“You like?” “I love it baby” *They seal the moment with a kiss*

Hours later, in an unfortunate spell, that lil elephant was lost to nature at Chinchoti trail. It may sound small and insignificant but to her it meant all (I still remember losing that elephant. I had carefully clipped it to my backpack and then it was there no more).

It symbolized 1 of many unexpected moments of love shared with Abeer. We didn’t elaborate on us, not yet. I was Miss PDA and he was the actual shy 1 who only boasted of his openness and escapades from the past. When in India, I was the bold 1 and he the domesticated NRI (I’m smirking at NRI). With him I started with not wanting to feel anything, to feeling something and yet keeping my head on my shoulders, to losing my head from my shoulders but quickly screwing it back up and finally losing it all together. I guess the last stage marks the completion of the 100% absolute-in-love and this-time 4-real stage.

But through the last 7 months of togetherness there has been stark likeness and absolute opposite mayhem. The mere 3 days between our bdays would make me think we could be the twin Pisces fishes but our personalities speak otherwise. You see the love is there but the magnitude and the expression is different. It’s like we are reading the same script but in different dialects. Occasionally, the phonetics of that dialect connects us and love is requited. Other times, a simple mistranslation or miscommunication is enough to loosen both our screws. Hence, the twin fishes are upside down and opp. facing.

I think that people need the opportunity of expression too. Without a fight there is no opportunity for attention. Without a dialogue there is no openness. Without disagreement there is no chance to learn the differences. Without disengagement there is no moment for melting into each other. Without issues there is no extension of our personalities to explore the warrior and protector within us. Without sickness and bad times, there is no proof of our loyalty. Without distance there is no realization of the value. Without boredom and mundane-ness there is no creativity. Without the real deal there is nothing left fighting for; no refreshment of our expression of love. And we have done pretty much all of it.

When you look at your object of affection, you adore them. Your pride yourself in your choices; that you got lucky. In their absence there is a natural need to feel a rare sense of why can’t he/she be so or behave or have so… Then they appear in front of you and you realize, you have something that no one else has. And for some inexplicable reason you are unable to relinquish THIS one. Like the Great Gatsby. Rich, powerful, intelligent, ambitious, handsome, blessed yet haunted by a green light that ultimately destroyed him. We can have it all – or so appears to the world. But that 1 soul is all it takes to bring us to our knees. There is a sense of question as to whether we ever deserved them and all of their personality showered on us. That when they did, we partially acknowledged the love to satisfy our personal friend – Ego; but Ego was sacrificed when love turned its back on us.

There are these moments of tight knots. They squeeze and burn within. Makes you choke up and struggle to breathe. Face flushes and emotions refute control. But the moment love turns a kind eye toward us, the tremendous feeling of 360° relief and humility is like a pressurized aircraft cabin with emergency exits opened at 37000ft. I felt that recently and am going through it. The distance separating us is 1 I have miserably failed to cope with. His absence reduced me and I found myself being a teenage love-fool. An eg. would be my buying Starbucks coffee with his name on the styrofoam as a momento to the weekends he spends waiting patiently for me at the neighbouring Starbucks. That they know him there and occasionally prepare free samples and Americanos, are testament to how long I make him wait. Something I wouldn’t have done at all this weekend in order to spend every breathing second available. No, he did not go to the moon. Just Manali and Spiti and Kasol. They make me forget my leg and want to join him there.  

Then again I think of the times I said something I shouldn’t have or did something I could’ve reversed. There are moments I don’t wanna take back and stay mad at him. Exactly what good comes of it – nothing. This relationship although far more volatile with the good and bad remind me of others as well. Parents and siblings. In the ‘Pursuit of Happyness’, Chris Gardner while going through the worst moments of his life, still maintains aggression, softness, and borderline sanity. The 1^st few times I saw the movie I loved him and felt that it was about his journey to stockbroker-stardom. Truth is it was all about Chris Jr. (his son). He struggled to live, eat, breathe and survive only for his son. His pursuit for stardom was more in his son’s eyes and future than in the multimillion dollar corporation he dreamt of. His humiliation and struggles reducing him often were reversed only when he ensured the safety and sanctity of his love – his son.

Love, when given and received unexpectedly is the most cherished. Love, when asked and coerced, rarely feel authentic. When in love with love, it remains a dream. When in love with reality, it feels authentic. When in love with the idea of love, it just fails. Been there, done that. Now I just love him and wait for his return. Hoping to feel something: expectedly unexpected. <3