Riding Free and Fair - A Story from IIM Kozhikode

And then one fine day, in my last semester, let’s just say the universe conspired (quite literally) to enable my ‘tryst with (riding) destiny’. Blessed must be the biker who gave me that ONE chance to try my hand at it. It wasn’t his bike anyway but one that he was supposed to ‘safeguard’ while the owner was away for his foreign-exchange stint. That angel of a biker today ‘happens to be’ my best friend.

It bore down heavily on me that this ONE chance could well be my LAST and I listened to the instructions with rapt attention. I couldn’t afford to think of the consequences of losing my balance. With one deep breath I applied the first gear, slowly and steadily left the clutch and voila! I was moving! I accelerated and it paced ahead with a jerk. In no time I was shifting gears and vrooming around with my tutor sitting pillion. The smooth vrooms were no doubt interspersed with the usual bumpy breaking common to novices. But I was still euphoric to be actually riding that seductive, mean machine that had long eluded me.

There’s been no looking back since that day. My mentor and now my friend, philosopher and guide has been very encouraging, letting me practice regularly. More importantly, he’s spread around the good word about my riding finesse. So, now when the same set of nincompoops, who had doubted my abilities in the past, line up to let me give them a ride on their own bikes, I decline the invitation; does that qualify as… what do you call it- ‘chutzpah’?

Now that I had managed to remove the intra-campus mental-block, it was time to explore the exteriors. So I got my two-wheeler gear-license made. And finally, just a few days back, I thought I would set out to ride on the narrow, winding roads of God’s own Country. I was on cloud nine that treasured day as I zoomed past endless stretches of coconut trees with the wind blowing through my hair. There is something very ethereal about riding a bike that one can only experience but not express.

All was not so hunky dory however when I went out biking on the main roads. It was hard to be oblivious to all the jaw-dropping and head turning. I wish I could say it was flattering but honestly it was highly distracting- more to me than to them. And that was not all. Though I was on a song, a police van sped ahead and directed me to stop. I had nothing to fear as I had my helmet on and was carrying my driving license along. What annoyed me was not the police having stopped me; I am all for strict traffic rules. However, instead of addressing me directly, the policeman questioned my pillion as to why he was letting “a girl” ride on the road, asked for his id and license before mine and only asked for mine upon him telling that I was a licensed driver. I gruffly handed him my driving license and saw the heavily-mustached, pot-bellied khaki-man look at it and then back at me some two-three times. A look of disappointment visibly hit his face- I rejoiced and couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. But he miffed me again by saying -“We thought you were under-age ma’am. You may go now!” And it wasn’t to end there. Every two out of three times, I have taken to the roads, I have been stopped for verification. My guy-friends on the other hand, have hardly ever faced that. And most of them ride without helmets. Hence, while my friends now are finally convinced about my bike-riding skills, they still discourage me to ride. This is because they don’t like the guaranteed hassle of having to deal with the police each time we set out on a road-trip.

So, the moral of the story my friends is that if you hail from that planet called Venus, learning to ride a motorbike isn’t difficult, getting to ride one sure is!