These are two things I have been asked time and again since I bought my bike around a month back. I have covered around 2500kms and traffic lights and fuel pump stoppages have been source to these interesting questions. Going back to the day I decided to buy the bike, I was ripped between the choices of performance to fuel efficiency. I chose the former and almost thought I had taken the wrong decision as the news flashed an increase in fuel prices the day I booked my bike.
Nonetheless I went ahead with my choice and took delivery of Zurina (that’s what I call her), a Yamaha R15 v2. I rolled her straight to the nearest fuel pump outlet and bang came the questions, “Kitni Ki Hai!!! Kitini Deti Hai!!!” At mentioning the price and the expected ‘mileage’ of the bike, I was given this weird stare. “Meri tho aadhe se bhi kum daam ki hai aur dugni chalti hai”. He meant his bike costed him less than half and gave him more than double the mileage I was getting. This statement made me sit up and think. Being a petrol-head, it was kind of weird that I was thinking like an economizer.
Keeping all thoughts in place, the whole concept of save fuel, and the pleasure of riding i questioned myself, “Am I guilty of wasting fuel?” If I’m guilty, aren’t the manufacturers of such machines equally guilty? Automobile manufacturers are supposed to reduce their carbon footprint by producing more number of ‘green’ machines. How does that help? For every fuel guzzler they produce they sell five or more ‘green’ machines. Aren’t we right where we started?
I was brought back to reality when the fuel station attendant asked me to pay up. I started the bike and the rumble between my legs and the sheer power when I twisted the throttle made me leave behind all the thoughts and I started looking for an open road to live life all over again.
“Kharab Se Kharab Chai Piyo” … “Kharab Se Kharab Chai Piyo” … “Kharab Se Kharab Chai Piyo”. I asked for a cup and as I took a sip, the repetitive chant by the vendor on the train flooded my mind with fond memories … a flashback of sorts. It was probably twenty years ago, I was accompanying my father on train trip to Calcutta. The Steel Express leaving the station amidst all the noise and commotion among the other travelers. I used to love sitting next to the window … the wind in my face … lush green fields rushing by. As the train chugged into Sardiha, a small hamlet before Kharagpur, the voice of an old man in a shrill voice, “Kharab Se Kharab Chai Piyo” … “Kharab Se Kharab Chai Piyo” … “Kharab Se Kharab Chai Piyo”. The words literally meant – “drink the worse than worse tea”. As a ten year old it was kind of weird for me to see someone selling something stating that it is bad. It amused me all the more to see everyone buying tea and enjoying the same as they took a sip from the bhads (earthen cups). Little did I understand that the old man had devised some sort of reverse psychology to sell his product. Curiosity got me and I coaxed my father to share a cup with me. The tea was indeed good. Probably the best I have had anywhere in a train. The old man does not sell tea anymore. I have not seen him in at least 5 years or so. His sons have taken over the business and you would notice them on trains between Jhargram and Kharagpur every day. The tea still tastes fine. Apparently the old man has a homemademasala which he uses to prepare tea. I guess the recipe will be passed down the generations to come. As I took another sip the young man moved on, as the old man did, “Kharab Se Kharab Chai Piyo” … “Kharab Se Kharab Chai Piyo” … “Kharab Se Kharab Chai Piyo”.
Calcutta (Kolkata after the name change, I still love the old name) is one city which is infamous for probably the most chaotic traffic system. The only city where the traffic police would change the signals manually after commuters prompt them by honking incessantly. Park Circus (a se7en point crossing) is still manually managed by around ten – fifteen odd traffic policemen. Any new visitor would be in awe seeing the seamless co-ordination among them as thousands of vehicle criss cross probably the busiest crossing in the city. It’s not that this city does not know commuting without honking or that they do not have any civic sense, if you may call it that. Keep aside the fact that even the best of cars in this city carry at least one small dent some where reminding you of the chaos it went through.
That moment when no one honked took me by surprise, made me get off my bike to investigate whats up with this city. There I notice a car driver stop his car right in the middle of the road. The traffic started piling up. But, no one honked. This gentleman got down to help an old man cross the busy crossing. It seems the old chap had been standing there for quite sometime. Everyone, including the unruly bus drivers waited, waited for the driver to help the old man.
So, people who call this city chaotic and a mess, let me point out, this is just one of those instances which might make you swallow the word you just blurted out. For once just ignore the negatives and look out for the lesser joys of life. I guess it was a matter of realizing that among all these commuters crossing that day, this one man decided to take a stand to help this old chap. All others acknowledged the fact and No One Honked!!!
LEAVE THE ROAD 