Kiddos in the cafe

“Motorcycle for the oldies... ha ha ha”, Bamda continued with his sarcastic tone as I listened, “You know what, guys, if someone is riding a bullet, “still”, you can be rest assured that he is from Jurassic Park era”. Bamda followed up his comments with a loud laugh.

They were a group of 5. Since the tables were not free when the group moved in, they had to share my table. Well, it’s difficult to say that. I was sitting alone in the table which actually meant for four people. As this group moved in, one guy sat to my right and the other two across to me. Remaining two sat on either sides of the table. I, without a choice, became a part of the group. At least till we leave the cafe.

From their discussion I could make out they were motorcycle enthusiasts like me. They were on the way to Bhangarh, a place in Rajasthan. I was on the way back home from my travel. A strange coincidence had brought us together in that small cafe.

The group continued with their discussion and of course, were willingly included me in their discussion without even waiting for my approval.

Ranha, who was sitting on the left side of the table, added to the discussion, “I feel very sorry for the guys who buy bullet. I mean, you ride all over the town making this loud noise only to end up in a mechanic shop in the evening. I think its better be a mechanic before buying a bullet.” As expected another round of laughter from the group. I just smiled.

Pizaringa, the guy across the table said, “It’s a villager’s motorcycle, dude”, he continued, “Like those landlords who wanted show off. I mean, come on guys, be ‘civilized’”.

Minora said, “Dude, don’t insult villagers anymore. Even they have moved on to trendy motorcycles”.

Bashing of bullet motorcycles by the group continued. But, after every comment they were expecting me to join in their laughter and add my sarcastic comment on the bike. But all I had for their comments was just a simple smile.

However, thankfully, the discussion turned into our travel stories. I said, Thank God. They told me about their trip to Goa, Nagpur, Shirdi etc. Novomak, guy who was sitting on the right table of said, “We have done 500 km in a day, that’s a record of our group”.

Since, I am also a travel enthusiast, I too shared my stories. I shared my story of travel from which I am returning home. The story of riding my motorcycle through the toughest terrain of the Himalayas. My ride from the west of Arunachal Pradesh to the east taking a route that, to the most of the world, didn’t exist. My stories of crossing water streams in my motorcycle, riding in a deserted land filled with rocks with a load of around 70 kg on the back seat and many more. My total travel was about 1500 miles. I didn’t complete it in one day or two days but 40 days instead. I showed the photographs and videos of my travel. When they saw those photos of the roads through which I travelled, they exclaimed, “You really rode through these roads”. I calmly said, “Yes”. By the look of their faces, I could say, these people would not even contemplate going on such a ride. But then, I knew, there were not me. I smiled but didn’t show it on my face.

Those guys looked at me with appreciation. Then there were few moments of silence.

Unfortunately, after wandering over of couple of other topics, they started over again with their bashing of bullet motorcycle. Then Bamda looked at me and said, “You know what I feel, bullet manufacturer should close down. They’re creating such ugly motorcycles even today. At least our streets would look a bit better without these ugly ducklings”. I got up and wore my jacket. Then I said, “You’re talking to a wrong person. I own a bullet. All those travel stories I told you, I completed them with my bullet”, then I had to say to them, “Good luck, Kids!”