A thank you note for my bike

'It's for your mom' said Dad, as I clearly remember staring at a white and blue fresh from the showroom Kinetic Honda, outside Dadaji Dhackjee showroom in Worli (of course, now it doesn't exist). This was in 1996. When it was brought to our building, I got a pic clicked standing next to it. It had this fancy, black velvet cover! I was, say a few inches, taller than it was. Hmm. Nice.

Over next few days, the bike became an object of admiration. Self start in the zamaana of kick, especially for my dad who was a Yezdi rider was bliss. Mom started learning it. And then, one day in the process fractured her arm. That's it. The poor Kinetic was rider-less. Unless you count dad, but he was more of a car person. Then, I was barely in 7th standard, but admittedly, quite taller than the rest in the class. (I think ever since then, height hasn't increased). I remember, I had just about learnt to cycle in standard 5. And one fine day, dad plonks me on to the Kinetic (legs, barely, but almost touching the ground), and says 'Chalao'. 'What??' I stared back 'Chalao. Accelerator karo dheere se. Break par haath rakho'. He said unfazed. And then started my journey with the Kinetic. Till I was in about 9th standard, I just enjoyed riding it in my society. Then I was pushed out of it. On to the roads. To get sabzi, to go to places 10 minutes away but which needed rickshaws to commute. I started off. Within years, I got my car and scooter license together. Vrrroooooommm I went. Every saturday I'd be given a to-do list of going across places and paying bills, laundry, groceries etc. I'd set on my ride. And be back, with everything ticked off. There were times, at 4 AM in the morning, when guests at home wouldn't get ricks. The Kinetic would come to the rescue. Why! Even when Dad worked in Thane, it was this Kinetic he took all the distance and survived his travel. I remember a period when dad went to the US for a long time. The Kinetic then rested with my cousin brothers who used it for going to their classes, colleges etc. It then came back, as dad returned. It has been unbelievable 16 years since then. And it amazes me, how the bike is so sturdy and refuses to give up. The body has rusted. White has given away to brown and blue. Almost fallen apart. But when the petrol pump guys fill in petrol, or the mechanic takes it for servicing, they just say one thing. "Madam. Isko bechna mat! Iske jaisa engine aaj ke zamane main nahee milega'. It's still going strong. Needs us to take care of it each month. But then... thank you. For all the literal 'burden' that you've taken on relentlessly! It's unthinkable of the bikes and modern machines of today. 

Relationships that are not meant to be..

You can plan victories, plan life, have dreams, win battles, achieve goals... but you can never and perhaps should never plan friendships or any other relationships. Because planning, goals and all that makes it so inhuman. They're all about wishing, hoping, wanting.. and then sometimes even letting go.

They're like rivers.. can dry up, flood, change course, and you can't do much except keeping your boat afloat in the tide. No matter how hard you try, some relationships are not meant to be. And you need backstabbing, several hurts to be able to realize the truth and the pain. It makes me question the idea of friendships and other such relationships. Who'd wanna marofy apne pair pe kulhaadi? But again, they're the river you can't help getting swept into.. its mildly interesting and highly disgusting. I guess in the end its about how you handle it. Do you stop getting into this river? Do you get a better oar to guide you well? Do you learn to swim and not need a boat at all? Do you just go away?

It's that part of life, that control freaks hate.. you know, the ones in movies.. 'I can't lose. I have never lost'.. but there's no such thing in the battle for relationships.. and that's when you leave it to time, to god, to it's own course.. What's not meant to be,will never be. What is meant to be, will keep you waiting..