An unborn rider

 This essay is for the contest "what motorcycling means to the Indian motorcyclist" powered by Castrol power 1 . Please follow them @ www.facebook.com/CastrolBiking

        My 60 km ride suddenly turned bumpy, windy, dusty and yes, adventurous. The comforts of travelling in the 4 wheeler had gone for a toss after a ceased engine and it ended up cooling its heels in the garage. Like the baby bump on my mom’s tummy , the everyday rides too turned bumpy as the ‘three’ of us headed for work on the glistening red Kinetic Honda – the first motored vehicle without gear and clutch to enter the Indian market – the 1990s saw the advent of many new inventions and discoveries and this was one of them !
         Cocooned in the deep interiors of my mother’s womb, swelling with pride at her maternal instincts , securely fastened to the umbilical cord, snuggled cozily in the comforts of my ten month home, I could feel the romance of the rally ride from Bangalore to Hosur . We would start early at the crack of dawn , more often than not ,I making my presence felt by giving anxious nauseating moments to the bearer of this bundle of joy. But the journey had to start on time and it was a sight to behold for the passers by as well as fellow motorists, some of whom gaped, glared, gritted and guffawed at the erudite scholar with his over burdened pedagogical belongings in the luggage carrier and at his feet the hot  aromatic lunch packs , nutritious , healthy and packed with affection  for the voracious glutton in my mom’s belly!
          Two handbags strapped on the shoulder of the “backseat” driver carried all  and sundry- from medicines to tissues to balms to what not…The 100 cc never complained , groaned , creaked or guzzled but just kept going like a faithful canine , keeping its tryst with time ,never letting us down with any major breakdowns ,but we did have the occasional flat tyres , invariably happening in front of those ‘puncher’ shops on the highway which got fixed in a jiffy!
            Within city limits ,Bangalore lived upto its pseudonym ‘garden city’ and traffic snarls were few and far in between – no maddening , mayhem, maneuvering but once on the highway , with the 4 lane construction underway , my begetter had to show his manipulative skills to the fullest. The 18 wheel monsters on the road took pity on us more so for the rotund luggage at the back seat and gently gave way!
            The steady throttled jaunt rocked me to  naps and this little  driver would apply brakes in tandem with the motorist and the navigator going on a real high with this ‘kick’!!Destination reached on time every time for nearly  a month , this interstate safari  for “an unborn” 7 month old baby was the first riding lessons on  a bike ……rollicking, audacious, daring and quixotic!!!

( This piece is written from my son’s perspective, hibernating in my abdomen , while the steadfast scooter took me and my husband to work , commuting a distance of 60 kms.)