3 feet

At 7.50 a.m i threw a shirt over my sleeveless vest, grabbed my helmet and got on my bike, still drowsy. The electric start seems to be as groggy as me, as it tries half-heartedly to wake up the engine. I pulled out the lever and kick-started it instead. The roar of the engine woke me from my trance and put a smile on my lips as i lowered my helmet's visor and streaked out the front gate and on to k.k road. The wind blows my shirt open, I smell the sweet air, fresh from a morning shower. The sound of the engine revving is...well to call it music is pushing it a bit too far, but sure sounds good. This is one of the great things about riding a bike. All 5 senses, our windows to experience life, go into overdrive. Just like the needle showing the r.p.m going into the upper band. Oh, wait a second..4 senses i guess.sorry, forgot I'm not really tasting anything. But still, you get the general idea.

In some ways, I discovered myself on my bike. When i was depressed in class in brilliant when i had just turned 18, I would dream about the bike I would get after the entrance exam. I would fantasize about riding to the edge of a cliff, wearing a cool jacket and sunglasses, whipping my brilliant study centre i.d card out of my pocket, lighting it with a match and throwing the flaming combo of paper and plastic over the edge. Got me through most of those blue moods, that pleasent daydream. As soon as I got my bike and learnt the basics of riding, I went to Pala, to Brilliant on my bike. Told my parents I'm only riding around the neighbourhood. I wore my new denim jacket and fast track sunglasses. I still remember, how I had to take a deviation coz the main road was blocked at one point. The alternate road was full of pot-holes and mud. But very scenic. I learnt the joy of the ride for the first time, as I struggled to figure out how to control my bike on the rough, muddy, hilly road with a picturesque setting on either side of me. When i finally reached Brilliant, I rode into the compound, got off and walked inside with an air of confidence. No more the kid who went there everyday for an year languishing in self pity. But as a boy reborn, striding with attitude and looking around with a kind of laid back indifference. Sharath C George had arrived. They confiscated my i.d card when they gave me my library deposit back. I argued for a while, to no avail. If I had known, I would have let them keep the bloody 500 rs. I really wanted to burn that damn thing (a few months later i did burn my report card when I found it while cleaning my room though)

It's been four or five years since that day, and my perception about life has changed a lot in that time. Mostly through the good, bad and ugly experiences in college, I guess. But as I weave through the light morning traffic en route to the gym today morning, I know in my heart that I'm still that boy who loved to ride. I may commute by car a lot now. Maybe I'll mostly be in a car in the future. But I'll still be that guy.

I discovered a certain joy in writing recently. Words have a sort of magic. But I'm unable to get too flowery or poetic in my ramblings. I did try to write a poem once. The only two words I got to rhyme were 'swagger' and 'stagger'. I understood then, that I'm poetically challenged. Sometimes I wonder, if the course of my life had been different, would i have been a poet, Would I have lived life as a glorious dreamer. Some say that such people fly, soaring high above the rest of us mortals, up in the sky. But I know now that I'll never be one of those people. Im not completely on the ground either. I'll always be a biker boy at heart. The rubber of the tyres and spokes of the alloy wheels below me..Tying me to the ground and yet....elevating me. This will always be my place in the world, in life.....

Birds, planes and poets fly up in the sky. Have fun up there.

I'll be here where I belong....3 feet above the ground, flying....