another day wondering if others will see the distinction between responsible riders and the ruffians. delhi's been abuzz with such headlines for the last few months regularly. what with a honda cbr 1000 crashing on the expressway, another arrested for attempting a limca book of records stunt biking stint on a public road, the now perrenial purse or chain snatching by youths on black bikes (my bet's on them bikes being mostly pulsars, what say?).
I know i make a statement when i am the only one waiting at a red light while cars, busses, three wheelers and other two wheelers roar past. i know as long as i am the only one doing it, my impact is greater and it works out fine, cause that is the need. dont get what i'm saying? break a leg in a road accident and ye shall know the reason why they call them 'accidents. meanwhile the advent of rains made me step over a self conscious boundary and carry a bike cover to work, in the parking i pulls out my cover and covers my bike. it keeps rust, rain, dust, and prying fingers away from my pressciousssssssss!
Sunday, we went to a local Castrol Bikezone Two-wheeler workshop. My brother's kinda like a manager at this place which makes auto ancillary equipment (didja know Harley Davidson HT leads -for the sparkplugs - are made in Noida!?!) and the owner of the place has plunked down some munny for this particular Castrol Bike Zone.
Anyway, i got there at 10 and told the dude i needed my lights fixed. till 11 i was still hanging around waiting for someone to tell me what they were going to do. i caught one of the chappies and told him point blank that i was getting bored and was going to the local market to get the bike done. as luck and yezdis would have it, the bloody bike wouldn't start. (see pic) so there i had to shuffle up to the dude and ask for a spark plug spanner and remove plug, amble over to the sandblasting equipment box mounted on a nearby pillar and stick it into the rubber hole. except the rubber seal was new and i had to almost hang on pushing the thing in while blasting it with sand and intermittant air. a good eight minutes and two rounds of cleaning with the obligatory walk back to take the spanner again when she still wouldn't start - shux i felt so sheepish) and we were out of the mindsuck of Castrol Bike Zone swearing and grumbling that the place had no respect for old bikes and how with a totally consumed owner, bikes like mine were absolutely comfortable with roadside repair type hang outs.
We got to the sector 9 market in noida, met the fat ustaad who did a suspension job on my bike once, put his bullet light-jannewala mechie to work on my headlight, swhitches and what-have-you while i hung around and got the shock of my life when one of the boys wheeled in another black roadking fresh from a pressure wash. This one had bullet indicators, bars, levers and a new numberplate. we did what we had to and got home. I decided i would borrow a couple of brake pads (craftsman) which fellow y-biker manish had left behind some time ago and put some brakes on the black rider before she blew me off the road with her demon engine. we sat down with various blocks of metal, wood, nuts, bolts and brake shoes (after removing the front wheel) and commenced to cut off the rivets with a screwdriver and hammer. i got back home at around one and i reached halfway point at around three, when three crimped fingers later i had just to reassemble everything. I caught a quick lunch and started back again. put the wheel back and cleaned the bike. cleaned one part and realised i would have to clean the others; cleaned one bike and realised i would have to clean the other. waxed and shiny, i staggered back into the house at about half-past-five. now that's my idea of a full day bike workout, try it hombres.
PS: the white one's called Junior.
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