Colleague : Woah! There is a Hooters that has opened in Delhi?? Oh wait, no, that’s Bangkok.
Another Colleague and me : Hooters in Delhi?! Yeah right.
Senior : What is this Hooters?
Me : What? You don’t know what Hooters is? Did you go to college?!
—
Senior : Take down this citation. Basdev v. State of PEPSU.
Me: PEPSU? What is PEPSU?
Senior : You don’t know what PEPSU is? Did you go to college?!
Me : Ouch.
The slope and irrational fear of it have been conquered this morning. Much happiness comes from small things. The receptionist was baffled as to why I was sporting a Cheshire cat grin when I entered office today.
Also, on close inspection of Billo last night, I noticed a small scratch on the right mirror and it was loose. Tightened the mirror (thanks to the tool kit that comes with the bike, else where would I go for a spanner?!). Also noticed that a very small bit of the right handlebar has chipped off. Pardon me if I am grandiose and call this a battle scar.
You know how fears, no matter how silly, tend to have a grip on you? There has been one thing that has haunted me ever since I got my Bullet. It is that steep slope in front of my office. I knew I would commute by Bullet soon. I knew I would have to go on the main road, take a left immediately onto the slope in a diagonal way to reach flat ground and park if I had to go to office. I have this irrational fear that this slope is my nemesis and I am sure to fall while going up this slope.
Last night when I went to sleep and this morning when I got up, that was the only thing on my mind. While riding Billo to work for the first time, that was the only thing I was worrying about. At the signal just before office, I was all consumed by the fear of that slope. The signal light went green, I inched forward, changed gears to first gear, kept to the left and when the slope came I turned, something happened and I fell.
I have a strong suspicion that the something was a case of nervousness combined with something I was doing wrong.
The security guard helped me lift Billo and bring her to flat ground above. I checked Billo for scratches or damages and sent a silent and sincere note of thanks to the crashguard.
The first fall has left Billo and me undamaged, except perhaps for a mildly bruised ego.
@blackwithane : Good news!!! First fall out-of-the-way 🙂 Now you can move on and truly enjoy the greatest bike on the planet!
A colleague : Excellent. Now you are less scared of falling I’m sure. Let’s try again later till you get it.
😀 It’s true though, I am less scared of falling now.
I got my geared vehicle driving license today. At breakfast when my dad was trying to soothe me by saying that it was quite alright if I didn’t pass the test, that there was again a next time, I scoffed and said if all they wanted was an 8, I could do that much and show them on Billo.
As I entered the RTO office though, on seeing the track, I wasn’t so confident. I had my doubts whether the bullet would fit into the narrow track, forget not upsetting the sensor cones on the sides or losing balance while taking those tiny turns. Soon after infinite rounds of signatures, photographs and tests (prolonged by the stereotype that at every single step they gave me clearance for a non-geared license instead of a geared vehicle), it was my turn to do the 8.
I inched the bullet onto the track in first gear and before I knew it, it was done. Without upsetting a single cone. I heaved a sigh of relief and grinned a Cheshire cat grin at the RTO inspector who just started laughing at my obvious glee. After a lengthy interview of how I happened to like bullets and what I do professionally, when I was almost convinced that he had a son and wanted me to marry him, he let me go with a smile and saying ‘License kotbittidhinamma…safe-aag odsu!’ (I’ve given you the license, ride safe). And before I could start and zoom away, he parted with a scathing remark that made me go ‘Ouch Ouch Ouch’ all day. He said ‘Lose some weight and you’ll look like lady police on the bullet’. Sigh.
P.S. The cheapstake in me revelled that I was on a bullet and the other people who had come for the test were mostly guys on Activas. Yeah alright, judge me. Cheap thrills. 😀
Why was there an exhibition of home made chicken dishes at the museum?
Because ‘Ghar ke murgi Dali barabar’.
Why did Voldemort throw a chicken at Harry?
Because ‘Ghar ke murgi Duel barabar’.
Why did the sardar insist on dancing while eating?
Because ‘Ghar ki murgi dhol barabar’.
Why did Steve Jobs turn vegetarian?
Because ‘Ghar ki murgi Dell barabar’.
Why did Chip love home made chicken?
Because ‘Ghar ke murgi Dale barabar’.
Why was Mattel’s Oreo Barbie branded racist?
Because ‘Doll mein kuch kaala hai’.
Ok, bye.
(Inspired by discussion with @Crucifire on Twitter)
I woke up this morning quite unhappy that my Sunday was to vanish before my eyes in one big luncheon with my father’s friends and their families. My father suggested that it was time I started taking Billo out more often. Suddenly, the day seemed better. After an almost statutory warning by my father that he knew zilch about bullets and that he was only going to be riding pillion as a moral support, my father and I set out on a very enjoyable ride in the mild drizzle, to Eagleton Resorts. The traffic being least bothersome on Sunday mornings was a good thing. I was riding in second gear till we crossed Kengeri.
Once we hit the highway, I noticed that as I accelerated a little more, the vibrations were so strong that my hands began to hurt. I tried third gear and was pleasantly surprised to see that I had more control and felt more comfortable at this gear than at second gear. It was then that the concept of gears that Lionel had so patiently explained to me, hit home.
One hears so often of assholes who cut their way across in front of you, if they spot that it is a girl riding a bike. One doesn’t hear so often of otherwise unruly BTS bus drivers who slow down to let you pass or cars that don’t honk even when you know you are going so slow that if you had been the car driver, you would have honked your way to the front.
On safely reaching Eagleton resorts without Billo coming to a halt anywhere en-route, I patted myself on the back and proceeded to treat myself to the lunch buffet while trying my best, with a full mouth, to politely answer the questions put forward by my father’s friends about my new job, how I’m liking my work, the bullet, et al.
Rain played spoilsport and we couldn’t return immediately after lunch. Once it lessened to a drizzle, my father and I decided to head back before the evening traffic choked the road home. With my new found confidence in changing gears and my increased comfort levels in using my feet to brake instead of my hands, I was predominantly going in third gear. And suddenly, while I was about to overtake an annoyingly slow bus, Billo stalled.
I pushed Billo to the side of the road and started trying to get to neutral. The neutral light simply refused to blink in spite of the bike being able to move front and back. The start button wouldn’t work. Several attempts at kick starting didn’t work either. My father saw an approaching bullet and waved for it to stop. The guy on the bullet confessed to being new to bullets and just having bought his black thunderbird. After several attempts at trying to start Billo, he called a friend of his and passed the phone to me. His friend suggested that I remove the spark plug and check for a current.
Call me dumb for riding out on the highway without knowing where exactly the spark plug is. There was a silence on the other end of the line when I explained that I didn’t exactly know how to do what he was asking me to do. The phone was passed back to the guy. He then bent down and tried to remove the metal cap off what I was told was the spark plug. It was hot and he asked if I had any tools. Thanks to Mr. Kalyan at the showroom (the first thing he showed me was where the tools are kept), I knew that I had tools and handed them to the guy. He removed the metal cap, blew into it and replaced it. And voila! the neutral light blinked back to life and I kick started the bike. The guy’s friend then explained to me over phone that water had probably seeped into the spark plug and that I should get the metal cap replaced with a rubber cap the next time I visit my mechanic so that it is protected from water seeping in. It was nice that he did not sound condescending in the least and was sweet enough to explain to me, understanding that I was totally at sea.
KA 11 H 4484, thank God you came by at the nick of time! And thank you for stopping to help! My father was suggesting that we push the bike to the nearest mechanic, who is 3 kms away.
So, today I learnt what a spark plug is, where it is and how to change it if need be. I dare say that is a Sunday well spent.
It has been over a month since Billo came home. I’ve been taking her around and I must say, I deeply regret that I’m not able to take her around the city. I live right on Mysore Road and taking her anywhere to the city means having to ride through a good 8km stretch of muddy waters and potholes, thanks to the Metro construction.
I’m not that confident yet on the bullet. Just the other day, I was turning in second gear and released the clutch too fast and I stopped right in the middle of an intersection. Once I get my bearings, perhaps on a Sunday afternoon when the traffic is light, I’ll ride the 15km stretch to MG road and back.
The more I ride, the more I learn. But till the rainy season is over and till Mysore Road returns to atleast a semi-dry state where the roads are visible instead of stretches of muddy waters covering hitherto unknown potholes, Billo will have to do with the daily morning ride to the gym and back.
Who knew there was so much information about crash guards! Firstly, there is the three bend leg guard, the crash guard and the crash bar. Apparently the U guard looks royal but the butterfly leaves more room for escaping unscathed in the event of the unthinkable. There is more space to get out if the good looking U guard is used.
I had set my heart on a calligraphic number plate for Billo. I wanted it to go with the calligraphic font I plan to use on the helmet. My father suddenly said something about the Government having regulations against using fancy fonts. So, I pulled out the Motor Vehicles Act and checked the stipulations. You can only get your number plate in Latin(Roman) letters and Arabic numbers. Essentially, no local languages. The specifications for the size of the number plate is also given. However, there appears to be no stipulation restricting the use of fancy fonts, at least in Karnataka. On a side note, that reminds me, I am not able to post anything on the Bulletin Board on the Royal Enfield website or save any text in the ‘Number plate’ area. I wonder if it is a Safari compatibility issue.
The registration card came in by post today. I love my registration number – very easily remember-able. Also, I went to the RTO today to couple my non-geared license with the learner’s license for geared vehicles. True to anticipation, everyone right from the cashier to the RTO officer guffawed and then expressed surprise that I was getting a learner’s license for a bullet. Varun thinks it’s an ignominy to Royal Enfields all over if I’m going to ride around with an L board on it. Bull shit, I say.
Bullet riding classes last Saturday was good fun. Lionel supervised my riding, admonished me for not following the lanes and proceeded to make sure that I followed the lane while turning, every time after that. Shame on me, considering I have ridden an Activa for about seven years now. I also learnt how to start the bullet on a slope. The trick is to start in first gear, slowly release the brake and simultaneously accelerate, he says. I was able to do it on his thunderbird, but I am yet to try it out on Billo and that ghastly slope near home. I was also able to smoothly move from second to third gear on his Thunderbird, wonder why I am having problems with Billo. Must practice.
As the learner’s license is yet to come to me, Nikhil kindly agreed to come to the Service centre to get the crash guards installed and the number plate sticker done. Father (true to the spirit of fathers around the world) is worried to his core that the cops will harass me. He insists that I get my lawyer stickers as soon as possible and stick them on Billo.
After the first weekend when Bindu and Mrudul taught me how to put the centre stand, kick start and ride in first gear, I had been raring to learn how to change gears. It gets boring to ride around in first gear, you know. And it invites funny stares.
This weekend, Lionel taught me how to change gears and I have been riding around in second and third gears for a bit. I still have a problem changing from second to third gear, the Bullet makes a weird noise and I panic and switch off the engine. I remember Mrudul telling me about a slight neutral between the second and third gears which I must watch out for, must ask him about it this weekend. Also, I got stuck on a slope and realized that I don’t know how to start the Bullet on a slope. If I bring it to neutral, the Bullet moves backwards. If I keep it at first gear and try to start it, holding the clutch makes the Bullet move. Must clear these doubts with Bindu as well.
Tomorrow Billo will get her crash guards fixed. I want a nice saddlebag too, but I decided to wait a bit before I start accessorizing her. Perhaps wait till I can ride around properly. That reminds me, I must apply for the geared vehicle Learners license this week. Have you ever seen a bullet with an L-Board?
Also, I need to get a good helmet. I like the look of Vega Boolean, what with the double visor and all that jazz. Perhaps I will consider the Studds one with the movable jaw. I certainly want jaw protection, considering that I tend to land on my jaw every single time I have fallen down. Studds – Downtown looks very cool, but for this reason, it is beyond consideration. I want to paint the helmet in a retro style, I’m working on the design and will probably get a white helmet as it acts as a good base for all those bright shades I plan to use on it.
Meanwhile, I’ve been reading the handbook again and again. There is so much I don’t know, it overwhelms me. Sometimes I think I have been extremely foolish in just going for the buy instead of learning all this first. Then again, something tells me that if I hadn’t got Billo, I would have never learnt any of it. Trial and error it may be, a little wonked in the head I may be, but one nervous step at a time is how this is going to work. Or rather, one gear at a time.
Ever since a machismo overtook my school bus, when I was in eighth standard, I have dreamed of owning a Bullet. I remember leaning out of the bus window to look at it till it disappeared in the traffic. Never had I seen a bike so beautiful. In my mind, I named it Black beauty.
After nine years, on May 23rd, 2011, I got my bullet. I’d had her for four days. I’d only been riding around in first gear. I was learning to ride on her. I didn’t know how to change gears yet. In my blog I wrote: ‘In a weeks time, I shall learn, I shall get my license and I shall ride around town and out. Then again, I know nothing about maintaining a bullet. I’m looking forward to all the learning to be done and meanwhile, it sure has hell feels great, like freedom.’
I named her Billo. Because the song describes a bike better than it does a girl. See, like…
“Har adaa teri jagati hai qayamat koi,
Har kadam par tu girati chalein bijli Billo…”
dishkaun 