The skies have finally and truly opened up in Mumbai.The city is flooding, the rivers are crossing their danger mark, the navy is on alert, people are being relocated, cars are swimming in water and people are collecting infections as they wade through the flood. For Mumbai, its a perfect day of floods and all is good.. So, while I absorb the rains into the soles of myshoes and my nice cotton socks, I remember all those perfect rainy days spent in manipal in the company of my Dhano
Oh yes Dhano, She could moan and scream like no other I have know before and she loved to get naughty on a rainy day where i would beg her and do the drill diligently until she finally agreed to relent to my desires.
Dhano is legacy- as old as Basanti's horse- probably even older, she continued to breath...most of the times in gasps, I do remember hearing sighs. Dhano has been in the family for so long as i remember. My uncle brought her bright red and shining when she first came out of the factory somewhere in Karnataka. He rode her long before she was handed over to my brothers until they got fancier and gave her up to me...
For a poor student in manipal, Dhano was a luxury. My shoes lasted longer, thanks to her...er too much credit, probably not but atleast she helped me escape the long rock climbs that I had to do in the rocky terrains of Manipal. It was a love story, she would announce my arrival long before i came into view...." I can hear Vicky's bike' Adithi would say and the 1900 model of Kinetic would zoom into my college gates with me on top of her.
Speaking of adithi, I dont think dhano ever had too much of a liking for her...There was this one spot in Manipal outside Manipal house where she would stop and refuse to start...but that was only when adithi would be the pillion rider. Spooky, every time we passed Manipal house, dhano would stop...it was like she was waiting for another ghost bike to exit from that gate...a long lost lover that might have reached the scrapyard long before their story could bear fruit.
Dhano probably belonged there, but i did not have the heart to give her up. Dhano drank and how...she could finish a litre of petrol faster than a mallu drinking toddy. And she loved the petrol pump, where she would eye the nozzle of the pump with such longing and take in as much as i could afford.
Oh what a bike she was, the weather gods loved her too...every time i sat on her, it would rain...and once when i and adithi went chasing peacocks through the country side, she was the epoitome of support... not stopping a single time through the whole journey.
At the end though when her engine got all smoky and i thought she would burst into flames...she did not...she lived on
Oh my lovely red bike Dhano...I handed her over to my uncle after i finished my stint in manipla...but on a rainy day like this i still think of her...
Oh yes Dhano, She could moan and scream like no other I have know before and she loved to get naughty on a rainy day where i would beg her and do the drill diligently until she finally agreed to relent to my desires.
Dhano is legacy- as old as Basanti's horse- probably even older, she continued to breath...most of the times in gasps, I do remember hearing sighs. Dhano has been in the family for so long as i remember. My uncle brought her bright red and shining when she first came out of the factory somewhere in Karnataka. He rode her long before she was handed over to my brothers until they got fancier and gave her up to me...
For a poor student in manipal, Dhano was a luxury. My shoes lasted longer, thanks to her...er too much credit, probably not but atleast she helped me escape the long rock climbs that I had to do in the rocky terrains of Manipal. It was a love story, she would announce my arrival long before i came into view...." I can hear Vicky's bike' Adithi would say and the 1900 model of Kinetic would zoom into my college gates with me on top of her.
Speaking of adithi, I dont think dhano ever had too much of a liking for her...There was this one spot in Manipal outside Manipal house where she would stop and refuse to start...but that was only when adithi would be the pillion rider. Spooky, every time we passed Manipal house, dhano would stop...it was like she was waiting for another ghost bike to exit from that gate...a long lost lover that might have reached the scrapyard long before their story could bear fruit.
Dhano probably belonged there, but i did not have the heart to give her up. Dhano drank and how...she could finish a litre of petrol faster than a mallu drinking toddy. And she loved the petrol pump, where she would eye the nozzle of the pump with such longing and take in as much as i could afford.
Oh what a bike she was, the weather gods loved her too...every time i sat on her, it would rain...and once when i and adithi went chasing peacocks through the country side, she was the epoitome of support... not stopping a single time through the whole journey.
At the end though when her engine got all smoky and i thought she would burst into flames...she did not...she lived on
Oh my lovely red bike Dhano...I handed her over to my uncle after i finished my stint in manipla...but on a rainy day like this i still think of her...
2 comments:
woww!!
woow:)
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