Genesis of a habit

One fine day in July 2009, we all decided to give the CAT, that year. Oh yeah! The (un)Common Admission Test that one, born in India, gives to fulfill one’s as well as one’s parents’ dream, not to dare to think beyond the IIMs. Five of us set ourselves to tame the CAT and get ourselves released from the pressure-filled Aluminium smelter. To bell the CAT, one had to be thorough with the concepts and, in the process, give a lot of mock tests, which, in turn, makes a mockery out of one’s self-respect. Concepts were at the back of our palms and we had the self-belief that concepts can be created out of thin air, like the lies that we create, while reporting to our managers at the end of our shifts. The only hitch was giving the mock tests as that required us to register ourselves with one of the premier coaching institutions. Spot one coaching institute in the whole of Jharsuguda, let alone a premier institute, and there will be torrential rains in Thar Desert.

After a bit of research and a lot of money out of our bank accounts, we made the brave decision to register ourselves with TIME, Rourkela, which was 134 km from Jharsuguda, on the ‘Diary Milk Silk’ road SH10. It was a Sunday, and a supposed off for the five of us. I was apprehensive to ride a bike for that much a distance as it was raining cats, dogs and tigers. I took the pillion seat in the Pulsar 200 behind Narayan, with Manish and Pratap on the Hunk, while Abir was the loner with the Pulsar 150. The raincoats were robust, and we never got wet inside until we stopped for our breakfast at a dhabha, some 30 km from Jharsuguda. With some hot Badas (Vada in South India) in our tummies, we reached Rourkela after two and a half hours.

Circling around Rourkela, with its sharp cuts, twists and turns, we finally reached the centre. To our amazement, we learnt that Abir had already enrolled for the course (which he revealed then) and our view of him changed from the innocent chap who drove in the rain without a raincoat, to the traitor who was already on his way to the IIMs. There was a mock test in the process and except Abir, none were eligible to take it as we had enrolled just then. We questioned our commitment in travelling 134 km every Sunday to take up the mock tests, but when we thought about our plight in the plant, we readily convinced ourselves that distance should not be an issue. The TIME-center person happily pocketed the money and told us that all we needed was an internet connection; that we could indeed take the tests from back home. And the reason being; CAT was to go online from that year. What a relief! Within a few seconds, money transferred hands and we were on our way to the IIMs.

Jharsuguda being a place without a proper theatre, we took balcony tickets in a theatre in Rourkela for a stupid movie “Shortcut”. Like the name of the movie, we took a shortcut half way through it and made our way to Moksha – the bar. Joined by a friend, Nitin, from SAIL, we had a nice time and it was five in the evening when we started back. Pratap was in no mood to ride and that was my cue to take reins of the Hunk. I did ride on that smooth road during our onward journey for a few kilometers, but, a whole of 134 km with Manish (he didn’t know to ride a bike then although he owns a Karizma now) as the pillion was an exasperating thought. It was fearsome, yet I enjoyed more than I thought I would. With a slight drizzle and the serene silhouette of the mountains, the ride was refreshing. The ride enchanted me and made me relax the nerves of a long ride.

As expected I didn’t make the cut in CAT ’09, although it was one of my best performances. And, as expected, Abir and Manish didn’t even bother to give the exam. And, as unexpected, Pratap cleared it and made it to IIM Lucknow. And then I understood why there was “Luck” in Lucknow.

The trip made a deep impact on me. Not because of the drive to bell the CAT, but the drive on the highways. Wasting no time, I bought a Royal Enfield Thunderbird and was on the same road “n” number of times to go for a coffee at the nearest Café Coffee Day. Biking, that started as a necessity, turned into a passion and became a habit. And 134 km was just a start to the life of biking thrills and frills as I was back on the road again and again..