A Royal Ride - 2

And so, entered into my life a machine, which is rarely considered a machine by people who love it. The first thing I used to do after getting home from office was to drive it in the neighborhood and get a hang of it. It was a bit tricky at first, especially with the gears and brakes interchanged. But gradually I got a hang of it and used to drive it in my area.

The experience of starting a bullet is truly different. It's like a ritual, a sacred routine. The first thing to do is to check the oil. If its between L and the H marking; perfect. Check the fuel. Older bullets do not have a fuel indicator, so you need to open the lid, give it a shake and see how much is the fuel.Then, pull out the choke, adjust the decompression lever and then, a nice little kick, without giving the accelerator. If everything it ok, the engine becomes alive, like a heart beat, thump thump thump. Wait for a couple of minutes for the warm up and then as I call it "1 Up" and off you go.
Sure it takes a bit of time more, but its almost feels like you have woken up a sleeping person and coax him to alertness.

Riding the bullet along the highway is one of the most calming experiences I feel. Yes, calming because it truly is a otherworldly experience. Traffic notwithstanding, one goes along his own pace, the needle steady at 50. No zipping zzzzzzs of 150 cc bikes, no honking, nothing. I do not experience the need to rush when I am riding. It's really incredible.
As I kept on riding my bullet, I also came to know what makes you different from other bikes on the road.
People will stare at you. Yes, real hard. But you will get used to it.
Royal riders rarely wind their way between cars in traffic. Maybe its because the bullet is heavy or simply its almost insulting to treat a bullet like a normal bike and nudge it here and there.
If you happen to see another rider approaching you, as you get close, almost instinctively there will be a slight nod of the head. A symbol of acknowledgment that we are of the same fraternity.
The looks of your bullet rarely matter. While a true rider would never keep it shoddy, which is why I have given mine for a paint job, it does not matter as long as it rides good.
I take my bullet to the office. Many people there know me as "the guy who has a bullet". It has become my identity.
People ask me often, why did I buy a bullet. It has to be cleaned frequently, it requires maintenance. But I cannot explain. I feel you do not choose a bullet, rather it chooses you. It is up to the bullet to decide whether you are fit enough to own it.
I do have my moments when my bullet does not start easily. The times when engine "over ho jataa hai". The times when I forget to check the fuel. It takes real stamina to start it then, at least 10-12 kicks. People will look at you and think why did he have to buy it? Nevertheless, the moment it starts, everybody will heave a sigh of relief. A small thanks will leave your lips. And then "1 up" and you are off. The road awaits you.

PS: This piece is written as a tribute to the people who ride the Royal Ride, the Royal Enfield.