Spent a full day ripping around on the newly launched Simple One Gen 2 electric scooter from Simple Energy. Wow, what a ride! As a petrol-head motorcycle enthusiast, I needed some time to adjust to this silent EV. Still, it quickly won me over with its thrilling performance and smart features. Here’s my honest, no-BS take from pounding Bangalore’s city streets, highways, and off-road trails.
First Impressions: Silent Powerhouse
The silence hits hard! No engine roar, just pure electric whoosh. I grabbed the punchy 5 kWh variant (265 km IDC range, 115 kmph top speed, 0-40 kmph in 2.55 seconds), charged to 90%, and squeezed out 90+ km mixing Eco, Ride, Air, Sonic, and even Sonic X modes without easing off the throttle. Sonic X acceleration? Insane instant torque (up to 72 Nm peak) that nails overtakes. Didn’t track range until it dipped below 20%, classic petrol-head learning the EV ropes.
City & Off-Road Thrills
Ride and Air modes shine in traffic, efficient for puttering, punchy enough for city zips. Ride mode hits the sweet spot: balanced power, decent range, addictive pull without killing the battery. Off-road on bumpy dirt? It felt solid at 129 kg kerb weight, which is 8 kg lighter than Gen 1. The CBS disc brakes provide excellent control. Traction control, which even has a rally mode, helps maintain stability. The 4-level regen braking helps recharge while keeping it planted. The 780 mm seat height suits long commutes. The 35L underseat storage devours backpacks. There is also a handy 1L glove box for a phone or small gear.
Futuristic Features
The UI provides a smartphone-like experience. It features a 7-inch touchscreen and runs on Android 12. It includes a 5G e-SIM for Bluetooth calls. You also get OTA updates, cruise control, and TPMS. Find My Vehicle and Park Assist make reversing easy. Six modes (Eco X, Eco, Ride, Air, Sonic, Sonic X) dial in your vibe perfectly. Portable 750W home charger is plug-and-play; public fast chargers hit 0-80% in ~2 hours 15 mins. An industry-leading 8-year motor/battery warranty, plus a 3-year/30,000 km vehicle warranty, screams reliability.
Honest Cons & Learning Curve
Range anxiety lingers for petrol-heads, but 200+ km real-world on Gen 2 eases it fast. MapMyIndia’s navigation lags with inaccurate spots (Mappls glitch). Google Maps integration would have helped. The display washes out in bright sun (worse with shades); brighter screen settings are much needed. Menus pack features but lack enough shortcuts. It does take a couple of rides to master the UI. The seat is comfy and the right height for shorter riders is perfect. It does slope awkwardly for tall folks (over 5’8″). This limits you if you would like to sit a little towards the back of the seat.
Pricing & Lineup
Simple Energy’s Gen 2 portfolio sets benchmarks:
- Simple One Gen 2 (4.5 kWh): 236 km IDC, 90 kmph top speed, 0-40 kmph in 3.3s – ₹1,69,999 ex-Bengaluru.
- Simple One Gen 2 (5 kWh): 265 km IDC, 115 kmph, 0-40 in 2.55s – ₹1,77,999 ex-Bengaluru.
- Simple OneS Gen 2 (3.7 kWh): 190 km IDC (up from 181 km) – ₹1,49,999 ex-Bengaluru (intro ₹1,39,999!).
- Simple Ultra (6.5 kWh): India’s first 400 km IDC range, 115 kmph, 0-40 in 2.77s – coming soon.
The roots of the noise
Before “rev bombs” became the default party trick at every random bike meet, there was actually a culture and context behind loud motorcycles. In 1970s–80s Japan, Bosozoku gangs turned modified bikes and outrageous exhaust notes into a language of rebellion, identity, and territory. Their bikes were tuned to be obnoxiously loud on purpose, and the sound was part intimidation, part performance, and part protest against a stiff, conformist society.
Out of this scene came “sound battles”, riders using throttle, clutch, and rev-matching to create rhythmic, almost musical patterns with their engines. It was still antisocial in many ways, but within that subculture, there was a strange craft to how they chased a particular sound, a particular rhythm, and a very specific aesthetic.
From rebellion to empty noise
Fast forward to today, and most of what passes as “revving culture” at motorcycle festivals, city cafes, and late-night streets has lost all of that context. In many places, riders are not channeling some deep subculture; they are just yanking throttles on stock or badly-modded bikes in crowded public spaces, without any thought to people around them. The result is not rebellion, not art, not community, just nuisance.
Studies consistently show that motorcycle noise is perceived as more annoying than other road traffic noise at the same volume. This heightened annoyance spikes stress and irritation among people who have to listen to it, especially when motorcycles are revved aggressively and unpredictably. Authorities worldwide are cracking down on noisy and illegally modified exhausts because residents are fed up with sudden, sharp blasts disrupting their daily lives. What some riders think of as “showing passion” often just comes across as disrespectful to everyone else. An issue that’s very much evident during motorcycle festivals in places like Goa too.
What the motorcycle community should stand for
As riders, it is important to admit this: pointless revving in a crowded venue is not “biker culture,” it is just bad behavior in biker clothing. Around the world, even other motorcyclists are calling this out as pathetic and annoying, because it makes all riders look like inconsiderate attention-seekers. It is the kind of thing that gets more restrictions, more checks, and more hate aimed at everyone who rides, including the ones who are actually responsible.
Motorcycling at its best is about flow, control, and connection. with the machine, with the road, with the people you ride with and the places you ride through. The sound of a motorcycle on a good line, with clean shifts and precise throttle, will always be more beautiful than a stationary engine mercilessly bounced off the limiter. Thoughtful riders do not need to scream for attention; their riding speaks loud enough.
Read More
On February 14, 2014, my Yamaha R15 was stolen. The heartbreak I felt was indescribable. I spent days running from pillar to post. I wanted to get the police report filed. I desperately hoped the police find my motorcycle. Adding to my distress was the fact that I still had a year left to pay off the EMI. The feeling of owing money on a vehicle that was no longer in my possession was gut-wrenching.
Despite all efforts, my first motorcycle, the one I’d bought with my own hard-earned money, was never found. The process with the police and insurance dragged on for months. I eventually received a partial settlement from the insurance, but the emotional loss lingered long after. I was without a motorcycle for almost two years, gathering my finances before I could buy another. That bike was more than a vehicle; it was a symbol of freedom, achievement, and deeply personal journeys.
I share this story now for a reason. Recently, I’ve noticed many crowdfunding campaigns popping up. Travelers lose their vehicles when they are stolen during trips. Then, they ask the public to sponsor a new vehicle to continue traveling. I genuinely empathize with the shock and pain such a loss brings, especially when valuables and cash are lost too. It’s a stressful, disempowering situation. The first steps in such a crisis are always clear. Report the theft immediately to the nearest police station. File an FIR. Notify the insurance company. Each of these actions is vital for any hope of recovery or compensation. Then, reach out to friends, family, or well-wishers for enough help to return home and regroup safely.
What feels out of step to me, however, is asking strangers to finance a replacement vehicle. The financing request is solely for the purpose of resuming personal travel plans. Travel is a privilege, an aspiration, not a right. Seeking help in a moment of crisis to get out of harm’s way or to make it back home is valid. It is compassionate. Still, expecting the public to underwrite the cost of resuming a private journey crosses a line for many. In these situations, community support is best directed towards immediate, essential needs, shelter, safety, and getting home. Not towards fulfilling lifestyle aspirations.
Empathy is essential. Anyone who’s lost something so meaningful can imagine the pain. The best course for one’s own growth is to first focus on recovery and personal safety. This approach preserves the spirit of community support. Regrouping and personal safety are priorities, not continuing what was a discretionary journey by its nature. Resilience often means regrouping, reassessing, and returning stronger, without shifting the burden of personal dreams onto the kindness of strangers.
Let’s ensure our support is compassionate and fair. We must keep safety and regrouping in focus. Facing loss with courage maintains dignity in crises.
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