Objects in the mirro... Hmm, never mind!

Unknowingly my wrist was twisting the accelerator and thereby opening up the throttle, pushing more fuel into that monstrous 200cc engine which in split of a second was converting that vapor into thin air, farting it out and pushing me along with my motorcycle to higher speeds on the beautiful and empty, perhaps empty that’s why beautiful, highway between Mumbai and Ahmedabad which looked like a path made by snake with its zig zag curves, while the speedometer on my bike was incrementing the reading by digit by digit 90 to 100 and then to 110 it went on 127, 128, 129 and reached 130, top speed claimed by the makers of my motorcycle, but my bike seemed not to give heed to those statistical claims and went on to reach 132 kph, a feat I would cherish for proving the makers wrong about their own prodigal baby, but then anybody can be wrong, just like the moron who switched the left indicator on and took a right turn, making to ponder for a moment that I didn’t know who was ahead of me and whom I left behind but then it didn't seem to matter, because the ones ahead were fast turning from obstacles into objects in my rear view mirror while the ones in the mirror were all just mere objects whose size was getting reduced smaller and smaller by every passing second making me feel for once that “Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear” written at the bottom of the rear view mirror might not necessarily be true, at least when I am riding my motorcycle on a highway singing, "When I am riding, what's ahead doesn't matter, What I've left behind matters even less".