A long walk home...

Folding the photograph in my hands I wipe the mist off my watch. It's 8 PM in Delhi now and I am sitting at a restaurant with the Ninja parked right beside me for company. The endless cups of tea have kept me awake for the past 24 hours. I like it here since the place is deserted except for a few passing trucks and dogs chasing their own tails. Soon the monotony is broken by a group of girls who seem to have found the same place habitable as I have. Their talks have made the peace nonexistent now. One of them doesn’t seem to be interested in what's going on and seems more interested in my direction.

She gets up walks towards my chair with such grace that could put felines to shame and sits on the chair opposite to me. Her jeans, or whatever that’s left of it, ends up right before her knee revealing beautifully formed legs. Despite the weather, she doesn’t bother to cover anything up. She starts talking as if she has known me for years. Her hair is tucked at one side but the cold breeze unravels it from time to time. And she constantly parts them to one side. I wonder what her motive is. One look at her friends sitting behind her clears out all the doubts in my mind as to what her intentions are. Her heels have already found their way over my shoes and she is smiling throughout. Her eyes are fixed on mine. They have the look of a tigress as she stalks down her prey.

I have had enough. So I calmly tell her that better women than her have tried and failed. I am not going to be tempted by her charms. She is not yet beaten and the smile still lingers over her face. I ask for the bill and pick up my bags. "Stop living in the 18^th century", she tells me. I tell her that I am not the type of man who would change morals depending upon the century I am in. As you wish, she tells me and a hand shake later she returns to her friends.

The bags and gear go over the Ninja. Thumbing the starter, I hear everything except the sound of the engine coming alive. Dead. Again. Like always. A call to Rahul and he drives down to arrange a pick up of the bike. He is well acquainted with Ninja's moods so he doesn’t ask any questions. Picking up my bags I start walking towards the nearest metro.

A SUV screeches to a halt in front of me and a hand beacons to me. The face sitting inside is familiar. It's her. They are going to Lucknow, she tells me with a wink and smile. The SUV is filled with giggles from her friends. It's getting dark and I am left with no other option but to accept her offer. I make myself comfortable at the back seat and pull back a bag behind my head to prepare for a long sleep to come. It doesn't take me long to join the dreamland.

A time that seemed like moments later, I wake up from the sound of doors opening. In the middle of nowhere this wild band of girls have decided to set up camp and have a bonfire. I prefer the comfort of the back seat and as reluctant as I am, I have to get up and help them set up their tents. She asks me if I would like to join them. Her offer spurs off a wide round of giggles from her friends. I decline the offer. I would prefer the back seat. Soon they have all eaten and talked and slept.

I dare not sleep. So the back wheel of the SUV becomes my bed. Luckily they have bought a stove so my tea is already brewing in the kettle. It's a full moon above. The type that makes some men loose and some philosophical. I look at their sleeping faces. Their innocent faces are a stark contrast to the wilderness we are in. I can’t leave them at this fate fearing what bestiality of the world may befall them. They think they have seen the world. But they haven’t. They haven't understood how bad the world can be. My past flows right before my eyes as if everything happened just yesterday. I remember the broken bones and stench of cold blood. And I remember the sound of bones cracking. Bones which belonged to my friend. The hate within only made snapping the hands and limbs of those who caused it even more easier. In that hell, I became a monster.......

A cold touch over my shoulders breaks the train of my thoughts. It's her. You haven’t slept still, she asks me. I dont know what to say and before I can reply her head has already found a place over my shoulders. She tells me about her life, without me asking for it. Her father runs a million dollar business and never comes home. Her mother parties all night and never comes home. She is the only child. She admits that she is spoilt. Is she, she asks? I reply in the affirmative. Throwing her head back she laughs and tells me that finally someone is brave enough to admit the fact. But this time her smile is different. It's innocent and pure. Her hair is loose now and plays across her face. Her eyes have lost that wild look and appear gentle now. Her cheeks are red with blush now. She looks beautiful........

She is now closer than any girl I have ever been with. I can feel her heart beat over mine. Her warm breaths touch mine. Her perfume is overpowering. And before I can back off I find her lips forced over mine.......

Not this time. I tear her away from me. She has done enough already. I tell her to leave me alone. She is down to tears and I hate myself for doing this. But she has to go. The next hour is spent waiting for her sobs to die down. Maybe what some one once said to me was right. That I am dead inside. It’s true. Because I can’t feel anything anymore. No face speaks to me. No face attracts me. They are just faces. They all look alike. All my desires are dead. What seemed lifeless then is lifeless now.

The silence indicates that she is asleep. I cant help myself so I move over to make sure that she is asleep. She is. Her eyes are still moist. She seems so fragile. I tuck her securely in her blanket and lay my jacket over her just to make sure. I can survive this cold.

The morning breaks and I wake up to find my jacket over me. I dont remember how or when I drifted off to sleep. But I am happy for this journey to finally end. She hasn’t spoken a word throughout. My mind on the other hand is at war. The time and place have finally arrived to part ways. So I bid them farewell. And I find myself face to face with her. The only parting words she spoke were, "She is very lucky to have a man like you".

I wait and watch them disappear over the horizon and pick up my bags. It’s going to be a long walk home....

     

Lost Without You- Part II

In your light I learnt how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You live in my heart where no one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art itself.

A dream wakes me up. I try to recall what it was. But I cant. Just the fleeting moment of you going away. Dreams have a way of fading into oblivion. The clock shows 5 but it's still dark outside. I try going back to sleep but slumber evades me. I don't want to look at the date. Don't want this day to ever come. Phone shows an unread message. Its from you. Something about some lost love. Ramblings of some disillusioned poet living in an even bigger illusion that he has understood love.  I hope you understand what you are doing. Of all days. Coincidences. Why do they happen? I dont know why but I pick up Angel's keys and get up.

Karizma puts on a serious face. She doesn't want me to go. Yammy looks at me hoping to accompany me to the place this time too. But this time Angel needs to go. She needs to see the place where it all started. She needs to be told the same story.

I look at her and remember the last time we went to your city. For some unfathomable reason, I feel closer to you whenever I am with Angel. Like you have been with her. Touched her. She has your scent. Unbelievable as it may sound but it is the truth.

A foggy morning greets me outside. Unlike the last time there are no people around. The now deserted road is a familiar one. One which I have traveled before. Angel reminds me that she is hungry. So I stop at a petrol station to fill up. It's deserted as well. Too early for anyone to get up. I park Angel and look around. Like a somnambulist lost in this infinite vastness I search for signs of life. Why I am hoping to see you here? Hoping against chance, to meet you. Waiting for this coincidence to happen. Why am looking everywhere for signs of you?

A dog stretches himself out of his sleep and wags his tail looking at me. I see an old man setting up his tea stall so I buy some biscuits from him. And share them with my new found friend. We both have been hungry for long. The old man is trying to read the newspaper without his glasses. In vain. So I help him with the headlines. He is happy by Anna's crusade and offers me tea in that celebration. I accept his offer politely. He smiles and lets me know that he wishes his son would be more like me. I dont know what to say so I smile and accept the steaming hot cup. 

Angel is flying but the destination still seems far off. I try to recall that dream again. But it's still vague. A veil of fog concealing its details. You still seem so far away. I remember the last time you smiled. And that memory itself makes me smile. For a fleeting moment life becomes beautiful. For a moment it makes sense. For a moment I forget the truth and live for the lie that I wish never comes true. For a moment you are mine and I am yours. And I am left wondering why the last time it didnt take so long to reach the place.

I try to piece together all the parts of this puzzle. How I came to this place. What circumstances lead me to it. It's an interwoven maze of events and coincidences. God rolling his dice. Dictating my every move. Making sure everything lead to you.

It's here. The bridge. That same old bridge. And the dhaba. They havent changed. Everything's the way I left the last time. But there are no boys fishing this time. There is no river now. The trickle that once was,is no more. I let the man know that I need some tea. He doesnt recognize me. Among this cruel busy world,who will? I look for the small boy who worked here. He is gone. Ran away to chase his dreams somewhere,the man tells me. I sit at the place I sat the last time. But this time there's no old man to tell me of his heroics. In his place an empty crooked chair reminds me of his stories. I pull back a chair and stretch my legs. And try to remember that dream again. I am weary from running away for so long that it doesnt take long to join you.

It's you isnt it? Standing among the fog. Engulfed by it. I move closer. But you are still vague. Like some undefinable mystery that can never be solved. You dont say a thing but take my hands into your own. That touch. I could sacrifice all my earthly possessions to feel that touch on my hands again. I look at you hoping that you will say something. But you dont. You just smile. But that's all I need. I have found my life in your smile. And would give anything to see it all the time......

A faint sound breaks my train of thoughts. I look around and see a small girl. She is looking at me. She seems familiar but I cant seem to remember why. She smiles and comes closer. She has a book in her hand. Without a moment's hesitation she sits besides me and shows me the book. The pictures she has drawn. Of her mother. Her father. Her self. The last page has a picture of boy standing in front of what looks like a temple. The familiarity of it leaves me speechless. I stare at the picture for a time that seems like eternity. This is all your doing isnt it? Like moth to a flame, YOU keep bringing me back to believe in you. To hope for something that can never be.

A voice brings me back. My tea is ready. I tell the man to get something for the girl too. She looks at me with those big round eyes and inches closer to me. She is shivering. So I wrap my jacket around her. I dont know what to say to her. So I tell her my story. How I came to this place? What brought me here? How I came to be what I am?

When I came to this place I was unsure of what I was but sure that I wouldn't fall for anyone. But you changed that. In that unforgettable moment I saw you for the first time I knew you were the one. Love was only a word for me. But you came and gave it a meaning. You were the only thing holding to me to this life my love.

And when I came to know that you could never be mine, life stopped making sense.  A part of me died that day. I kept running away. Hoping to drown you away by keeping my engaged in other pursuits. But that never came to pass. I am still where you left me. Run as much as I may I am back where I was. As lost as ever....

The girl doesnt say a thing. And I remind myself  the futility of telling this story to her. She points out at the glass of water on the table. I give it to her and something amazing happens. She dips a biscuit in that glass and starts eating. It's her. The girl I met last time. She hasnt forgotten. I ask her name. She looks at me but doesnt say a thing. The man picks up the girl in his arms and tells me that she cant speak since birth.

And for once, I know what her pain feels like. She and me have so much in common. Having so much to say but not being able to. It's her destiny and my choice. Somehow I don't want to stay at this place anymore. So I pay the man for the endless cups of tea I have drunk and tuck the girl securely under my jacket. She is reluctant to let go of my hands. But some goodbyes just have to happen. I hope she remembers me. And the time these two strangers spent. Of the story who she inadvertently became a part of.....  

Angel is wet all over with dew. I wipe her face off. She has been crying all the time. I hug her and promise that we wont be doing something like this ever again. The journey back to civilization is filled with even more questions. I am going back with a feeling of loss much greater than what I had started with.

What have you done to me,my love? This unexplainable feeling of emptiness wont leave me. God knows how much I have tried to run away but I cant. Just cant. The further I try to run the closer he brings me to you. How can I forget you when you are always on my mind? How can I not want you when you are what I search for all the time? 

Yes I love you. I love you more that I will ever find the words to say to you. I love you more than anything else in this world and there is nothing that I would like better than to hold on to you forever. But I know it's not for the best. So no matter how much my heart is going to break, I've got to let you go so you can know just how much I love you. Maybe if I'm lucky, you'll come back, but if not, I can make it through this.

It would be wrong on my part to miss you. Seeing as you were never mine. But I am going to miss you still. I am going to miss your smile even though you have never smiled for me.. I am going to miss your voice even though you havent spoken to me. But above all, I am going to miss the man I became because of you.

Misty eyed under the helmet am back home. Weary as ever, I lie back and try to re-enter that dream again. Hoping to meet you somewhere. But it's difficult now........


Forever and ever yours,
Ravi

From Rendezvous with Destiny

Understanding Engine oils

If you are like me,who loves his bikes like anything and fiddles with them all the time to extract the maximum performance out of them then read on. I grew up around old bikes since I was 5. Lived with them. Experimented with them. So unlike your 'trusty' old mechanic,I know what I am talking about.
Engine oil plays a major role in delivering that ''grunt'' you want from your machines as well as ensuring the long term reliability of the components.I will try to make this as easy to understand as possible. No technical jargon. And none of my notorious euphemisms either.
Engine oils are classified under 3 categories.
1. Mineral
2. Semi Synthetic (SS)
3. Fully Synthetic (FS)
Their prices increase down the list as well. Fully Synthetic oils are the most expensive of the lot but they last 3 times as compared to Semi Synthetic oils and offer much better lubrication.
When you buy a bottle of engine oil, you will observe a figure similar ot XXWYY written on them. Where XX is some figure,usually 10,15 or 20. While YY is either 30,40 or 50.  This figure is the Viscosity Index Rating of the oil. Simply speaking,VIR is the measure of the "flowiness" of the oil. Lower the value,the less viscous it is,the more it will flow. And vice versa.
Now consider for example an oil that has this figure as 15W50 and another oil as 20W40. 
In 15W50 the 15 is the VIR(Viscosity Index Rating) at 0 degrees Celsius and 50 is the VIR at 100 degrees. Higher the viscosity the less the oil will flow. At 0 degrees the viscosity is 15(which is slightly less than 20W40) hence the oil will flow much better during cold starts. It will lubricate the engine components much better than the 20W40 oil. But at higher degrees(when the engine is at it's working temperatures) you need thicker oil as it will even out and do a much better job of cooling and cleaning the working parts. This is where the '50' comes in. That 50 is the VIR at 100 degree Celsius. It's a higher value than the 20W40 oil and will maintain it's viscosity better at 100 degrees because what you want is an oil that remains thick even at higher degrees.
So what essentially you are looking for is an oil that has XX that is a lower value than the manufacturer's recommended value and YY that has a bigger value than the standard value.
For bigger Pulsars,look no further than Motul 5100 SS 15W50. In FS go for Motul 300V.
Karizma works best on Gulf Pride 10W30 and Petronas Sprinta FS.
Apaches can take Motul 5100 as well. Petronas suits them better though. Plus the FS Petronas will be cheaper than FS Motul.
Yamaha Gladiator: Gulf Pride Plus 20W40, Motul 300V 10W40, Petronas Sprinta 5000.
Any further queries,feel free to contact me. Dont bloody copy paste this article anywhere without giving me credit else I will stalk you through the night and eat your heart.

Facade of normality

“Just so you know, there's a space that only you can fill. Just so you know, I loved you then, I guess I always will.”

The bike is doing 120kmph,but I want it to go faster. Opened the throttle more. The world sped past even faster. I want it to go even faster. Till the sensation of speed overpowers every emotion. I just want this road to never end. I want to run away. Ride till I cant feel anything anymore.

But I cant. Just cant. Because you are with me all the time. Talking to me. Smiling at me. Your face haunts me. Even on this desolate vastness of tarmac you are still with me. And so I stop. It's all too familiar. 

I park Angel at a place that seems to resemble a dhaba. She turns heads and even before I have removed my helmet, I am showered with questions about the bike. I let them admire it and sit at a chair far removed from the others. Ask the man to get me my favorites. Bread with glass full of tea. He looks at the bike and then at me. And asks me what film I am working on. I smile and tell him that I am taking a vacation.

The empty chair before me and the wilted flowers remind me of you. So I ask the man to take them away. He comes back and places the tea and bread before me and waits for further instructions. There were none. So I sent him away. A dog wags her tail looking at my bread. So I share it with her. She eats her share happily and decides to bring her small puppies to come and see me. They all look like they havent eaten for days. But they wag their tails with so much enthusiasm that I tear up and suddenly dont feel hungry anymore. I let them have all of my share. A little one didnt get anything and was constantly looking at his brothers and then at me for something. I picked him up and bought some bread for him as well. He would only eat out of my hands. Barking at me to let me know that another piece of bread should be ready for him. I smile at this new found friend and pat him on the back. As I said. It's all too familiar.

It's time to move on now. My new found friends accompany me to the bike yip-yapping all the time to let me know they will miss me. I pat the small one a last time and say goodbye to their mother. 

Angel is hungry too so I stop at a petrol station to fill her up. She is happy with the 10 litres of petrol and growls like a tigress on the road. Soon we are there. Her city. The traffic reminds me that I shouldnt have bought a half superbike to this place. Something's gone wrong with Angel. She splutters and dies down. I have a mini heart attack. I park it along the road to see what's wrong. Everything seems to be fine. The spark plug,the ignition coil,the battery. All are working. Why then? I look around. It's a school where she has decided to stop. But there's something about that school. It's too familiar. I have heard of this before. And then it comes to me. It's her school. Angel knew all along. Either that or God decided to play one of his games with me again. Coincidences. I used to believe in them. Now I dont know what to believe in. 

The walls are cracked at numerous places. Reminiscent of the times and weathers they have seen. I can imagine her growing up here. The now empty playground would once have been graced by her laughter while she would be playing  with her friends. The broken windows of the classes where she would have given those tests that she hates a lot now. They all remind me of her.

A small girl who would one day make this fallen one fall in love in with her.

Some schoolboys spot the bike and I am faced with a volley of their questions. I tell them everything to quench their boyish fantasies. They love Angel's red color.A bright one spots the number and asks me what I was doing so far away from my city. I tell them. They dont understand. Nobody can. Better men than them have tried and failed. Tried to understand love. Better men than me.  

Angel starts without any problem now. I move on and stop ahead. An old woman is selling flowers at a temple nearby. She looks like she cant barely walk. I buy a lotus for Angel and gift it to her. A tear runs down Angel's face. I kiss her gently on the cheeks and thank her for bringing me here. The old lady asks me if I was visiting the temple or not. I tell her that people like me ought never to visit any temple. She doesnt understand. I smile and pay for the flower and tell her to keep the change and pray for me. That would be enough for me. She hands me another flower. What for,I still dont know.

I open my bag to take my camera out only to find out that I have left it behind. Him and his games. I will never understand you God. And I will never understand you my love. I wander around for hours looking at people. Everyone seems to be in a hurry. Only I seem to be slow. And lost. I go over everything I have learned about life. Nothing makes sense now. How mad have we all become running around these worldly things. Most of us are dead already and more are dying inside everyday. I see a couple holding hands and crossing the road. They look like they are made for each other. I dont know what to do. So I turn back and decide it was time to head back home. How I wish that your hand would have held me back to stop me from going. But there was none. And that's the reality I have to live with everyday. It's killing me.    

"I try to talk to you, but I don't know what to say. I am afraid you don't want me to say anything. So I don't. But inside of me there are words waiting to come out. To tell you how I feel. Like how I miss you. And how I love you despite my broken heart. And how I need you in my life. But those words may forever stay in my heart-locked inside.Sometimes I wonder if there are words locked inside you too... but I'll never know." And perhaps it's better that way. For you. And for me.

Because I have come to realize that I am not made for this. I am not made to love. Most of us are. Not me. Someone who knows me well once said to me that she would be sorry for the one whom I love. Why I asked. The answer came. Because I cared more about the truth that I would about her. Because I care more about everyone then I would care about her.

The irony is, it's true.

I dont know if I even love you or not. But I am afraid of losing you. I am afraid of talking to you. Afraid that I might say something that I shouldn't and you go away never to come back. Yet you are everywhere all the time. Every moment. Every breath. Talking to me. Smiling at me. You made me feel once again, how lonely I was.

You are the exact opposite of me. I dont know if this a mask you wear or if you are like that,but you are not like me. Why then do I burn whenever I see you with someone else? Why does my instinct tell me you arent made for me yet I cannot let go. For the love of God, I cant. Why do I think that you are lost and I need to save you? 

Why cant I let you go? Why do I feel like nothing makes sense? Why do I feel like I am crying all the time? Only there are no tears. Why doesnt the world make sense? It used to. But not now. Why do people talk and I dont understand anything?

Why I am still living in the hope that you will be mine someday? I lost her. But I cant risk losing you. Yet here I am,watching you slip away, and all I can do is stand by and watch you go.........

 

 

Forever and ever yours,

Ravi

 

Photos of my Angel before the trip.

Lost without you

I told you, only truth. For years, I sought only this day. Nothing else existed... until I saw you. Then everything changed. I fell in love with you. And to think I no longer believed I could.

Ever since, with every single breath that I have been forced to give ,I'm reminded that it's one more, without you, that I'm forced to live.

The alarm bell is ringing to tell me it's 5. Couldn't sleep a wink in the night. Time to worry about it later. Got up and and got ready. Something is amiss. I have to go.

It's still dark outside.I take the keys to my bike and pick up my helmet. Thumbing the starter makes my Yammy come to life. She seems to have caught a cold. She coughs a lot but soon settles down into a steady hum. She hates early morning rides as much as I do. But today we need to go.......

The air is filled with a thick mist. I clean the rear view mirrors only to realize it fogging up again.  It's a tranquil sight. There are no cars about. No jams.No horns. An old man is walking with a stick,a jogger passing by,a man sorting newspapers and a dog rummaging through a bin. I wanted to get away from this place. Opened the throttle and forgot everything.Time seemed to have stopped and I didn't realize where I was till I stopped. 

It was an old bridge over a river,or whatever was left of it. A small dhaba at the end. I parked Yammy here.The man was about to put the kettle on. There was noone else besides me. Except a small boy,conveniently named Chotu,with sleepy eyes cleaning the wooden tables.  Asked the man to prepare a cup of tea. 10 mins. Ample time for me to sit besides the river.

It wasn't a river actually,not anymore.Only a thin stream. Some boys were fishing. If there were any fish left they did not know. But they didn't stop trying. I clicked some pics. The flash got their attention and soon they were teaching me how to fish. I left them to it. 

A woman walked towards the river with a pot. Her saree had all the colors of the rainbow. Seeing me she blushed furiously and covered her face. I smiled and put the camera down. She was newly wed. I don't regret losing a good photograph. Soon her 'man' arrived and sits besides me. Asked me who I was and why was I here. I told him. His silence was deafening and led me to question the very nature of my pursuit. 

Took a deep breath and remembered the first time I saw her. Life suddenly became beautiful. It had meaning. It had a purpose. Her very existence made me believe in God. Angels like her can only be created by God........

I am brought back to the present by a voice. My tea is ready. There are a few people there now. I sit besides an old man. The shopkeeper places my tea and biscuits with the usual ritual of a cigarette. I don't smoke so I offer it to the old man. He takes a puff and starts talking. He was in the army. Served under this officer I cant remember. He is now retired. His sons take all his pension money. He has to sleep outside. He sleeps in the pouring rains. He sleeps in the maddening cold. I don't know what to say. So I offer him my tea and ask for another cup.

Slumber overcomes me. I hear a voice. Her voice.... my heart seems to race whenever I hear her voice. The sweetest songs from the sweetest of instruments pale in comparison to her voice.

I see her. She is smiling.... Her smile stops my heartbeat. I could live my whole life just looking at her face. Her eyes......They look deep inside me. Like she knows me already. She feels so real. Like I can just reach out and touch her face. Dreams have a way of seeming so real.God I love her so much......

Another voice brings me back. The steaming cup has been placed before me. Blowing off the steam I take a gulp. It's still quite hot. The boys are returning to their homes. It's not been a good catch today. Maybe there weren't any fishes in the first place.They will have to go hungry today.My head feels much clear now. The old man asks me the same questions. I tell him. About the girl I fell in love with. Not knowing that she loved someone already. About how every year I will do a long ride to a secluded spot on the date I saw her for the first time. Away from civilization. Away from humanity.To think. To reflect.To question my existence. To find the answers to questions to I have been meaning to ask "Him".

The old man tells me about a temple nearby. He says that the Goddess of the temple grants the wishes of those who have a pure heart. I don't believe him. All temples in my India are supposed to grant wishes. I get up and salute the old man. Pay for the two cups of tea and buy some packets of biscuits for the boys. And intentionally forget to take the change back.

The boys wanted me to show their mother the pictures I took after they ate the biscuits. So I did. Her amazement at my camera's screen was huge. A very small girl was hiding under the corner of her saree. She didnt get any biscuits. So I bought a packet again and taught her how to eat biscuits dipped in water. She loved the taste of wet biscuits. She was like me. 

It was time to leave. Bade farewell to the family. Promised that I would come back the next year.The girl smiled and her tiny hands waved me goodbye. In that moment I realized that this journey was worth something after all. 

Got on my bike but couldn't bring myself to start it. Something was amiss. I had to go. Five minutes later I found myself at the temple. It was no different. There must have been thousands like this one. It didn't matter. I paid my respect and made a wish........

I didn't wish for you  my love. Because though you mean everything to me, you are happy where you are. And with me you wont. I cant risk wishing for you in fear of it coming true. My happiness lies in yours. I realized this long ago. But I couldn't bring myself to face it. Do you remember the line you wrote? The one that said that you are not the type who flings herself in love every now and then. Inadvertently you described me. Because YOU are like ME. Free. Stubborn.Emotional.Caring. 

Do not worry about me love. Because I am in better hands. Your God is my guide. He is my shield. Someone whom I never believed in before we met. I believe in him now. There are no coincidences love. Only the illusion of coincidences created by him. 

Loving you was the best thing I could do with my life. And I will do so forever and ever and ever...........

Forever and ever yours,
Ravi

My Cowon J3 is here.......

AMOLED Display with support for almost all the audio formats on earth. Tonnes of customizable EQs. And ballastic audio quality.

Am I the only one?

4 years down the line my Gladiator isn't the bike which I once bought. It's every bit a Yamaha,no doubt about that.It corners like a *beep*. It feels *beep*ingly stable. The brake are *beep*-tastic.
But there's something wrong. And it's not the bike's fault. It's the people who made it. The Gladiator feels like it's put together by a bunch of bankers who have nothing else in mind but to make the most profits. Everything's made to last a definite time after which it goes kaput. How else would you explain the electrical malfunctions that happened within days of each other. Or how the chain went berserk after exactly 15k kms. How the engine's rusting while the fellow cheaplings Pulsar/Discover kept alongside it dont.
I dont understand the point of people who beat their chest about Yamaha's reliability. I especially hate the fanboys who buy Yamaha and after a year bang on about it's reliability and how it's the 'best bike with international features in the whole of human universe'.
I know.I did it too once. Fast forward 4 years and I think the people who made my bike were apes.
50kms from civilization once the bike conked off, the superior Yamaha genes went out the window and never came back. Trust me there's nothing more disappointing than buying a bike with a posh badge and it ends up being worse than the locally made produce.
What's Yamaha India doing? Skimming money from retards who buy the R15 just for it's psudeo superbike looks or the Fz for it's fat tyres? I guess it's the truth. They are making a lot more money now since my Gladiator's birth.
And why does everybody shut up whenever the point of Yamaha's reliability is taken up? It's an expensive bike and it has the right to conk off of course. Nobody minds paying 6k for a radiator but everybody start typing once the brake pads of a Bajaj or TVS are changed under warranty. Why?
Coming from a nation which is years ahead of ours doesn't mean they can get away with everything. But they are,simply because us all, love the glitter more than the spark.The technology maybe new but it's not something that we cant achieve. Automobile engineering,design and manufacturing are not a black art. Everything's been thoroughly researched and tested. Anybody who feels otherwise can feel free to disagree but that's not going to change facts. There are some serious quality issues in the manufactured units that are being shelled out and everyone seems to have turned a blind eye towards them.
There are two type of people who buy a Yamaha:half arsed dimwits who want 'international features' or serious enthusiasts with a fat bank account who know what they are getting into. And I dont fit in either category. You might come across some genuinely knowledgeable people who know what's what but that's a different and rare breed the likes of which can only be found on xbhp.
I do hope that my R15 is going to be good in the long run. I don't want to buy something that ends up being a mistake of a lifetime. But the 21bhp babe from Bajaj isnt going to be a........a.....Gladiator either!