Go Green - Why a bicycle is better than a motorcycle..

1. I can travel my full journey on the wrong-side.

2. I can put the U-turn wherever I want. Just lift the cycle and jump over the divider.

3. I don’t need to worry about the traffic lights.

4. I don’t give a damn about where the nearest petrol pump is.

5. The left side of the road including the pavement belongs to me. (For the right side, refer points 1 and 2).

6. I don’t have any speed limits.

7. I get a healthy work out.

8. In case of brake failure, I can use the accelerator-my feet as the brakes.

9. I can put scratches on any other vehicle at freewill and still not worried about scratches on mine.

10. I don’t need a license or a RC book or an insurance and save India from corruption by not bribing the Traffic police.

Hey ya..

Dear Scooty Pep,

This is me, Thunderbird. How are you? I am fine. As you would know, I was born in a Royal family and initially used to chase the Ladybirds during my school days. Immaturely, I thought, the bird-bird connection would make it all work. But, as time passed, I was proved perennially wrong. Also, my luck ran out against the Sunnys and the first generation Scootys.

Since, I was born as a new generation cruiser; I was way too unconventional and was nothing like the classic Bullets. Not to mention the unilateral confrontations that I had with the ordinary Indian bikes. I was not just the normal bike around. Extraordinary sounds way too strong, but, abnormal sounds very apt.

Initially, I was born with a single spark plug, to redefine the meaning of a royal cruiser. Just like any other bike, I followed the single spark plug fundamental. But, with unconventionality prevailing in me, I was forced to change. My inventors clubbed with the markets, wanted me to perform better. Wanted me to give better mileage, better comfort thereby modifying the silencer initially. Later, the thought of introducing twin spark plugs made them happier. I burnt more fuel and gave better efficiency. But, never was I asked, if I would feel comfortable about the twinspark. It is the way I was born and from far, the society adores me. But, when asked to own one, they neither have the guts nor the power to handle. That is the reason, you see very less of me on the roads. But, with the ever increasing broad-minded people, you will see the more of me.

Be it any bike, a 150 or a 220 or a 350cc, its existence on earth is justified only when it follows a sub-100cc moped and actually wins her over. As hot cakes in the bakery, came those Saffires, Activas, Dios, Pleasures, etc., but, I was interested in none. To follow the girlie cars was never in my list. Hearing a lot about you, I never in my wildest dreams would have dreamt that I will follow you. I was fanatically in love with you. I went wherever you went. But, the family of bikes not accepting me because I am a twinspark is totally unacceptable. One day, they will understand me. That I was completely unaware of the mistake that they think I am. But, in the end, I am proud to be one. With millions of kilometers to travel in this journey of life, we will meet again. Till then, happy and safe driving!!

Yours lovingly

Thunderbird Twinspark

Cricket clock ticks back again!!!

There have been innumerous times, when the game of cricket in India has gone through phenomenal changes. Every now and then, the absurd situations of loss in interest leading to decline in viewership have baffled the cricket industry. And each time a disaster occurs, it occurs in its true sense. Etched in the memory of the present T20 generation, the century’s birth was marked by the match-fixing fiasco, followed by dismal performance in 2003 World Cup finals, 2007 World Cup first round exit and the recent T20 World Cup. Every time, the road along the abyss seemed deeper, but the anti-gravity force has proved stronger enough.

 After the match-fixing scandal, we saw the formation of a new team of youngsters taking the reins at the helm. A new dawn was on the horizon with fresh legs and smarter brains. The most successful Indian captain took the team to new heights and the front-end work thoroughly projected the back-end efforts. It was those individuals who brought the hopes of billion other Indians alive. Alas! When the going was good, the same individuals buckled under pressure, hay-wired on the March 23^rd finals and shattered the expectations.

The rebuilding this time was not that fast enough. Taking examples from the past, the team started playing consistently and were rightly rewarded, supported by stellar performances from the next pool of youngsters. Infusion of young minds once again proved that the juice of cricket is worth the squeeze for the Indians. But, they proved that watching cricket over studying for exams is not that great an idea for millions of students across the nation, during the jet-lagged 2007 World Cup.

After the falter, the recovery did not take much of a time, as the Indian board used the same old trick of betting on the youngsters and were rewarded with the first T20 World Cup. Cricket reached new heights and the pinnacle was right in sight. Cashing in on the cricketing craze that was generated and the adrenaline being pumped in, the birth of the Cricket League and the Premier League fanaticized the fans. With myriad controversies surrounding both the leagues, the common fan was very optimistic about the future of the game. His interest rocketed and the mere numbers of economical crashes never even bothered him.

Plummeting at the second T20 edition, did not bring that many hearts down until the IPL-III happened. Again giving way to controversies and conspiracies, the tournament thought-out as a preparation for the T20 World Cup, 2010, proved to be a devil in disguise. With fitness issues at the centre and personal issues in the periphery, the Men in Blue, portrayed themselves to be completely disordered. Finding solace and trying the same approach of investing in the new pool of youngsters in the Zimbabwe tour backfired and the next strategy to rejuvenate seems to be a looming asymptote. Was the thrilling India-Pakistan match of the Asia Cup the panacea? We got to wait and watch.

Spark Plug

"Station Ochunundi. Jaragandi babu.", shook my Telegu co-passenger. Yeah, I thought. Stepping out of the artificially cooled coach, I found the sky clear. At early dawn, birds starting to chirp, the platform no.2 seemed long. With a jolt from the blue, I remembered that my bike is on the parcel van. Ran to one extreme of the platform to make sure, it did not reach Allepey by any chance as it belonged to my place. As any Indian goes through the same trauma of paying bribe as if he is paying a non-receipted tax, I paid 200 bucks to make OR23-C-7860 stand on the platform. And I was informed by the tax collector that I can collect the bike from the other end of the platform. Lurching ahead, I went to the end of the train with my heavy backpack and the laptop.

With no petrol in the tank, I did not have a clue how to carry forward at 0400 hours. Carrying inflammable articles like petrol, kerosene is a punishable offense. They do not mind, if the tracks are wired, but, they are very particular about the petrol inside the bike. I know Safety precautions, but, what about the engine oil then. I feel this is where our intelligence fails. With seven kilometers to reach, I do not have the hydrogen-fuel-technology to power my way through. Then, the spark plug in me ignited. I called up my nocturnal friend and asked him to bring petrol along from any of the 24hour station. A big positive about big cities, things here are 24*7, mechanic shops not being taken into account.

After half an hour, he reached and without a second thought, I emptied two litres of petrol. If one has got to say about crime, carrying petrol in bottles from a Petrol bunk is a crime. Once again, an intelligence failure. Now, it was time for a thumping start. Kick-Dub-Dub-Dub-fail. Again kicked. Again and again. With all the cosmos filling in at 0430 hours, I doubted air lock. I blew air, fanatically into the tank to release the air lock. But, nothing worked out. Given another chance to my spark plug, and some telephonic conversation with my mechanic, I tried with the carburetor settings and as expected, nothing worked out.

Where is the mechanic shop at 0500 hours? So, called up the Just Dial service and asked them if they could help me in finding mechanic shops around the Central station for a bullet. Instant came the SMSes containing the name and contact nos. of the mechanics around. Tried calling those nos. and in vain, I found deep sleep on the other side. The only guy who received the call, was reluctant to come since, I was not his permanent customer. "Dude, this is the first time I'm in the city with my bike and you expect me to be your permanent customer?"

With all Permutations and Combinations drying out, the only other logical reason was that the fuel was not getting ignited. Then, I called up another friend who updated his FB status saying that he is jobless at 0500 hours. Thinking, "Buddy, I got a job for you now", he reached within 15 minutes to flaunt his control over speed on early-morning free roads. Chit-chatting for an hour, and well-knowing that the mechanic shops around the place opens by 0900 hrs, we had the company of soda, sprite and cigs. With the bike, under my friends custody, I went back home in one of their bikes, freshened up and then reached back at 0800 hours.

Reaching back, instantaneously, I started removing the spark plugs and cleaned them. With lots of Carbon deposits, it was all transferred to my hands. Then, my bike started, then stopped. The cycle went on for quite a while. To our great amazement, a mechanic shop close-by opened by 0830 hours. Towing to that shop, and with clear explanations, he cleaned up the spark plugs with petrol and then the clear dub-dub-dub started. It was a moment of co-incidence that Airtel sends me a SMS, "Welcome to Chennai. For assistance please call our Customer Care at 121."

Monica - Oh!! My Darling

I committed a grave mistake on 16th of June. I am not talking about joining Vedanta on the same date in 2008. There is this girl in my life who is very special to me. She is not my girlfriend, not my sister, not my mother or any other blood relative. She is my best friend. Bumped into her by accident and this shy girl from Bombay was reluctant to actually make a conversation. Being a strong anti-racist myself, I got to know that we speak the same mother tongue, after looking at her full name. As usual, this cuddly-puddly lady slowly bonded with me as a fish would with water. Months passed, through the ups and downs, there she was with me always. An excellent cook, she is the main reason for me fighting my medical disorders. I owe my bike to her and how often do you see a girl who is ready to travel thousands of miles on a bike. Love the way, she says "means" or her complete indecisiveness. But, she is never that immature as she portrays herself to be. A strong reason being, this cute girl knows to love people. Seldom, we find true love and she is the one who possesses it. Her love for friends transcends boundaries and many a times she proves a wise-man wrong. She is a diamond in the crown of a king and I am eternally indebted to her. Monica, my darling, I love you my dearest friend and I am really sorry for not wishing you on your birthday.

Tippu