It’s not a hobby, it’s a lifestyle

It is an experience I cherish almost everyday, I get those shrugging shoulders, them queering pair of eyes, that disgruntled look, those quick steps hurrying back to the pavement, the sudden change in pace of pedestrians crossing the street and the look of despair from the traffic guard on duty at the corner.

The questions I am commonly asked mostly with looks of genuine concern and sometimes sheer irritation often go this way; there’s the most frequent one “Why so fast?” rather “eto tada ki bhai?”; then there is my favorite “what’s that extra noise from your bike?”; and not to forget, the question which makes me feel so Herculean “ aren't you afraid?”  .

Some hate me for it, some love me for it and some just don’t care, some call it a passing phase whereas a limited few can relate to the feeling.

It is not about how fast you can ride or how well you can swerve, it is never about the heads you turn and definitely not about the stunts you perform; it is about the adrenaline, about the figment when time freezes just for you, about trusting your instincts and finding yourself, it is about the eternal bliss because I believe that among all the looks, shrugs and questions I get from everybody somewhere deep down I successfully create a small emotion of awe for me and my bike as I ride down.

It is not a hobby or a means of navigation, it is not an infatuation, it’s a lifestyle.