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..

On the road again - Day 1

The April hot air was cold at 0430 hours in Jharsuguda when I and Abir kick-started my Thunderbird for the longest journey that we had planned till date. His quota to drive in the smooth SH10 was receding as fast as the morning replacing the dawn. By the time, the first rays hit the face of Oriya roads, we were in Sambalpur. Sambalpur is famous for Sambalpuri silk sarees, which are a one of its kind in the nation. Sambalpur being an important junction connects Bhubaneshwar on NH42, Mumbai via Raipur on one limb of NH6 and Kolkata via Keonjhar on the other limb while Jharsuguda on SH10. 10km further on from Sambalpur on NH6 towards Raipur one finds the vociferous Mahanadhi getting banked on the humungous Hirakud Dam. Known for its magnanimous structure, Hirakud dam is the world’s largest earthen dam with the walls running in for 30km connecting Burla and Hirakud town. Standing atop, it feels to be wavering along the ocean with no boundaries.

Refilling our wallets with a few grands, half of what we were expected to have by 20^th of the month also and the fuel tank with Speed Petrol, we had imagined to hit the 120kmph mark at ease on NH42. Abir not letting go of the rider’s seat, our usual count of swapping the seats was increased to 100km keeping the magnitude of the journey in mind. Updating my FB status to the current happenings, I knew that by the time my friends logged into FB, I would have reached my destination comfortably. The scenic beauty of the hills on the right hand side and farms on the left hand side left us dazed about the place through which we were travelling. At 100km from Jharsuguda we reached Charmal, a place specifically needs the mentioning. We took a break and ordered the nation’s best beverage to rejoice – Chai. We had mistakenly parked the 200kg monster in the muddy service lane and it took a while for us to bring it back on to NH42. Kick it with all might and it won’t start. After 10 minutes of desperate kicking, the bird refused to budge. We identified the problem with spark plug, but the engine was too hot to be meddled with. After half an hour of rest, with help from the Chai-dukaan, we got hold of Sankara, the mechanic. He opened the twin-spark that always made the trouble, cleaned it with the Speed Petrol and roared the engine. As a blessing in disguise for him, 50 bucks transferred hands without the required amount of work being done.

I started the engine and the April heat was getting on to us. Abir carrying a decent amount of luggage, I was the culprit with carrying a huge back-pack inspired by the song “Aaromale”. The entire blame was not on me as I was carrying Abir’s HDD as well. Finding it difficult to carry and maneuver, we stopped the bike and were making the make-shift arrangements to reduce our burden. Finally, finding a solution to it, we put the back-pack on the fuel tank and cruised away. When it was 0900 hours, we had cruised 250km to Angul to stop for our breakfast. The stoppage at Charmal had badly hit our average speed, calculated to just 60kmph. We removed our helmets, our elbow and shin guards, paused our music players and ordered Upma for breakfast, which being a favorite of Abir. We planned our next course to reach our destination with a better average speed so that we were able to make up for our loss. After applying the necessary sunscreens and putting back the armory on, we left Angul on the same NH42. Angul, known for Naxalites and National Aluminium Company is one of the fine industrial cities of Orissa. With more number of thermal powerplants coming up in the vicinity, the Naxal movement is taking a head-on clash with the blessed, fighting for the unprivileged. One observation worth mentioning is that the roads of Angul have improved a lot since our last trip. The clutters were removed and dancing jacks had been replaced by roads of NH standards.

When we were nearing Dhenkanal, there was a huge line of vehicles on the left hand side. Trucks, buses, cars, bullock-carts, were lined one after the other. We thought a railway gate that we could not remember of, was closed. But, that would not mean to stop vehicles for a 20km stretch. Reading into the situation, there was chaos as well. There were unsettling nerves about something tragic that had happened. Not again, we thought. We could hardly accelerate above 30kmph and reached a place where there was absolute chaos with tyres being burnt with animosity in the air as fuel. The police officer controlling the situation was looking directly at us and was calling us towards him. We did not know anything, we are simple bikers caught in a myriad haywire. Gathering courage, we biked towards the officer to find that he has made way for bikes in the zone to pass. Salute him, I thought. The whole mishap was about a bike ramming into a truck and there was heavy bloodshed. A furor was created as the person belonged to the nearby village and the road-services were disrupted. Thanks to the officer, we saved some 4 hours to circumvent the situation. On the other side of the accident, we saw the same line of trucks, buses, cars, bullock-carts and bikes stranded for 25km on the right side of the road. With the sun-streaming down on us, my tanned forearms called for a hydration break.

We reached Dhenkanal and moved swiftly through the hot whirlwind and reached Cuttack at 1300 hours and took the mighty NH5 of the Golden Quadrilateral. Speed mellowed down due to traffic, Abir felt difficulty in driving as we almost skidded past a truck that was going mayhem. Tempers and frustration rising between us mainly due to the heat, both of us displayed tremendous control in not yelling at each other. May be that is what the hot shopfloors of Vedanta has taught us - To remain cool when the situation and the ambience is hot. We reached Bhubaneswar at 1400 hours, scouted a hotel and refreshed. The conditioned air and the cold orange-flavored Glucon-D did some good to us. We later went to the Royal Motors to collect back our Insurance papers and visited our favorite restaurant – Tangerine and had a sumptuous meal. Searching for Lassi in the capital of Orissa, the salty ones tasted yuck although Abir had two of them. We later reached our hotel and dozed off. A true CSK fan in me woke up at the right time to watch the IPL Semi-Finals which CSK won against DC. The first day of the huge bike cruise was over. An arduous bike trip that was ahead of us the next day, taunted us, even in the dreams. 

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

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."

A Road to Raipur..

"Sir, I need a weekly off tomorrow."

"Last month only you took a day off and went to Bhubaneswar."

"Sir, I went to bring my bike and after that I have had just one weekly off in four weeks."

"Hmmm. Let me think about it. But, why do you need one tomorrow? By the way, tomorrow is Thursday; aaaand that means you will be coming on Friday?"

"Sir, Friday is my weekly off."

"What? Two days leave. What will happen here? You are so irresponsible, taking so many leaves. By the way, why do you need leave tomorrow?" (As if it is his baap ka company which won't run if I don't come)

"Sir..... Have to go to Raipur... Have some work there.... My aunt's relative is coming there to sell her property and she will be flying to Saudi soon and I won't get to meet her beautiful daughter for some years now." (Bingo, Tell a girl's name and there you see his face shine. Frustrated souls of core companies.)

"Oh... Going to meet your girl is it? Achcha, Ok.. But, make sure u come to office by Saturday"

Finally got out of the ill-fated cabin and headed to complete the day's work. Wednesday being the middle of the week, there was not much of work at 1730hrs. Punched out at 1800hrs and reached my home. Packed the necessities and had a sound sleep.

Woke up at 0500hrs on a beautiful November Thursday, freshened up and went straight to Abir's house and picked him up. With lots of nudging and pushing, he finally accepted that we will go in my bird, but was reluctant to take a second helmet. Again, a lecture to convince him and finally we were on the highway to Sambalpur by 0700hrs.

"Any idea, which road to take from Sambalpur?"

"Tippu, we will see to that. First lets have our breakfast."

We had our usual Puris at a dhaba and I was feeling sleepy. I asked him to drive the next 100km and then we will swap. There we went asking people, "Bhaiyya, Which road for Raipur" and finally reached NH6. Crossed the mighty Mahanadhi and true to its name, it is Maha-nadhi. So, huge and voluminous that one tends to wonder about the amount of engineering that would have gone in building that bridge. A moment to capture, we shot our Facebook stills with the bike and the enormous bridge. Later, we set out on NH6 traversing Burla, where the nearest multi-specialty hospital is located in the vicinity and at 100km from Jharsuguda, we reached Bargarh. Happy to see a cinema hall there, we made plans to watch all the soon to be released new movies there. Quite a big town and then after 50km we swapped positions. An untold secret about Thunderbirds is that on long rides, the best place to be is the rider. The pillion feels so uncomfortable that the pee and the chai breaks becomes a frequent visitor reducing the average speed.

After another 50km, we came across the board "Thank you for visiting Orissa. Please visit again." "Its my pleasure, atleast I will be away from the sick-state Orissa for more than twelve hours now". After entering Chhattisgarh, the road started to break in the middle. It was difficult to maintain a speed of 60kmph on a trot, but later the road's condition took the sinusoidal curve. Near important towns, the road did get better and for the first time I was riding in a Hindi-spoken state. All around I saw the shops' name in Hindi and took some time to set in to the gathering. Chai in Chhattisgarh sucks and after a few more FB shoots, we reached Raipur at 1430hrs.

Seven and half hours of blissful riding and we straight went into the mall and booked the matinee show for "Ajab Prem ki Gazab Kahani". We had a couple of Pizza and my heart missed a beat when Abir told me that it is difficult to get non-vegetarian food in Raipur. The movie was a real stress-buster and sometime Pagalpanti also has its own cue.

Came down, had a coffee at the nearby CCD and the girls particularly were not that hot or gorgeous. A few mini-skirts to ogle at and the rest were the plain traditional dress. Nothing was out of the way beautiful about them, but, they were trying hard to portray the-we-are-traditional-girls-in-a-modern-city. We then booked the tickets for the night show and the choice was the worst, Kurban. I did not know it then, but repented very much after the movie.

Later searched for a nice hotel to stay and to put our luggage and for the first time I stopped my bike at a traffic signal. It did feel good only for a couple of seconds, then the cop sidelined us and was asking for our identifications. Happy to see that we were coming from a big industry, he was aghast, just like anyone else, as why we came by a bike. We crossed the Central prison shooting night-time videos, freshened up in the hotel and set out for dinner and the movie. I wanted to eat non-vegetarian food badly, but we were lost in quite a big city of Raipur. Too many cross roads took us to the beautiful and residential parts of the city and as a blessing in disguise, my eyes fell upon "Madrasi Grill". How lucky can I be? Double bingo. Authentic Tamil Nadu Muslim Biriyani at Raipur, where you do not come across a non-vegetarian hotel. Relished my dish and reached the theatre in time for the show and what a crap movie it was. It was yet again an american-muslim-terrorist movie. Finally, we called the long day off and settled under the razai as the winter was finally being felt.

Next day, we started our return journey and shot a few more videos of Raipur and were off on NH6. At around 150km from Raipur, due to a sudden overtake and a loss of control, we hit off-road into the bumps and finally the ill-fated accident occurred with Abir. For the n^th time, the helmet saved both of us. Lucky were we that, we escaped with very minor injuries. Then was my turn to ride as he was badly injured and after 10 minutes of resumed riding, he again asked to take the bike to the side. We stopped and he took a nap.

Finally, on the road again, I was feeling sleepy while riding and there came Abir's resilience to take the reins again. With dehydration taking its toll, we reached Bargarh and ran into the restrooms of Hotel Ganpati. Finally, relieved of the pressure, we relished the American (Oriya) Chopsey and headed back to Jharsuguda with winters getting really colder with the then recent rains. That was when I realized the power of Leather accessories, a must in your kit.

Saturday came.

"Aur, Tippu.. How was your trip? How is your girl?"

"Had a nice trip sir. Looking forward to some more if you would grant me leaves."

"Nahi yaar. You had a reason, so I let you go. But, since she is away for now, concentrate on work for now."

"Ok Sir." (I can see my break-up coming. Atleast for the sake of the next road trip ;) )

Safe Riding.

Red and Black..

The Wednesday morning was cool with my face getting a splash of cold winter breeze while pillion-riding LML Freedom with Abir. The October 14 morning was just another usual cold morning with the exception of enticing things that lay ahead. Bullock riding our way through the village to the office, we punched-in late by 15 minutes as usual. Then the usual chai with hot crunchy samosas kicked off the work with the same contempt. Although my workplace restricts me to wear only digital watches, I could sense the movement of the seconds' hand of the watch equivalent to its hours. Somehow completed the crappy work and there we were off, as soon as the clock stuck 14:00. I went to my room, changed and was ready with my backpack. With Pratap's punctuality we started our Road trip in his car to the capital of Orissa at 16:00hrs. Abir and I occupied the rear seat with Pratap being the only one to know to how to drive a car on a highway, among the three of us. The keen apprehension of driving back on the same NH42 was enormous, but, with Abir, anything is possible. He ensured that things would be fine, every time when we passed through the Naxalite patches.

We reached Bhubaneshwar at 01:00, 15th October and rested at Pratap's place. One exotic thing about car road trips is the coupling effect of soothing music in amazing speakers with the brilliant landscapes. On our right we had dark, tall mountains and unscathed villages on the left. The best song that we enjoyed was "Jao na" from "What's you Rashee?" apart from the eternal "Dil Chahtha Hai". You got to try, and I am sure, you will enjoy it.

On a lighter note what I observed about the faucets of Bhubaneshwar is that they sprinkle water compared to the gushing faucets elsewhere. At Pratap's place, hotels, anywhere one went the same similarity. We had a light breakfast with the excitement increasing exponentially, reached the only showroom in the city. The Royal Motors, Bhubaneshwar was neither as royal as the name sounded nor as big as compared to the machines in store. Mine - the black one and Abir's - the red one was kept outside and we were introduced the machos. With a pre-existing Thunderbird in the showroom, we took a test ride. That was the first time, I rode a Bullet and the experience was devastating for me. Devastating in the sense, I started doubting my integrity. With some emotional help from Abir, Pratap and my best friend Sangeet, I was doing a little better. The small ride was so sensational that I was haunted with the doubts whether I would suit the bike or not, leave alone my trip back.

Then came the cash transfer issue. The couple of birds cost Rs.2.05lac. As we already had paid an initial booking amount, we were complied to pay more Rs.1.85lac. With no cash in hand and everything in card, we faced the challenge of the day of transferring the money. With Internet banking failing us once again, we were left with the only option of withdrawing cash from the ATMs. Hail Mr. P. Chidambaran and the maximum amount that we could withdraw was a paltry Rs.25k per account. We were short of Rs.1.35lac now. God save and there we went to the ICICI Bank of the city. With some breakthrough technology in the banking sector, our birds were saved with the system of RTGS (Real Time Gross Settlement). From this account to that account and from there to another account and finally to Royal Motors account we transferred the Rs.1.35lac. Paid the rest with cash and with the kind assistance from Pratap, we got the keys of our exclusive birds in our hands. The moment in a life, which everyone must enjoy, is pure bliss. With still some tuning left with the machines, we went for helmet shopping and Pratap was the first man to ride my Bird as I was still damn scared to sit on it. With a confidence-boosting session from Abir, I took a ride to the XIMB Cafe Coffee Day and chilled out with my favorite Choc-a-Vloc. Later, we hunted down for a Spicy Biriyani shop and riding in the city night was a special fun with a new bike. We were the immediate centre of attraction when we criss-crossed the wide roads. Diwali, a day away, we bought some crackers and made to Pratap's place by midnight.

The date was 16th October. Bhubaneswar, being a coastal city had its share of winter. 05:00hours was pretty plain and that was when we kick-started our respective birds to a 355km drive. We were advised not to cross 60 kmph speed limit for the longevity of the engine. We crossed the mighty Mahanadhi and then took the NH42. One helluva experience was crossing a mighty river with a thumping background at 06:00hrs. With the speed tab constantly ringing in our minds, Abir was fixing timely targets as we traveled through Dhenkenal, where we had our first chai stop after 80km from Cuttack. Then, at 150km from Cuttack, we reached Angul, the hub of NALCO and the Naxal-brewing place. We stretched ourselves in a hotel where we had our breakfast and still we had 250km to cover. The time was already 10:00 as I was scared to drive for this long. The first 200+km road trip for me and it really did kick the gut out of me. Abir then cajoled me with his first long trip from Kota to Jaipur on a bike and that was as cool as a cucumber and infused the hunger to drive more. With sleep setting, Abir twice almost fell into the adjoining bushes. That was when we laughed and had a nice photo-shoot. Music does play a very important role, because without music, I am certain to have lost my concentration from the road.

The road was superb except for the Angul stretch of 30km and the scenery on both sides were scintillating. There were these small chai shops along the highway proving to be a blessing in disguise. With kilometers behind us, we were the talk of the road, as the fellow-riders were asking about the specifications, price and lots other things concerned with the bird. How often, one sees two brand new Thunderbirds, blazing on a highway?

At around 15:00, we reached within the vicinity of Sambalpur. Jharsuguda is just 50km and we were certain that we will reach Jharsuguda by 17:00 hours calculating with our lunch break. Had a sumptuous biriyani again and left for the final stretch. This stretch is our usual weekend road; so, we know the curves and turn as clear as a NFS gamer knowing the tracks. Finally, we reached Jharsuguda and all Abir had to tell me was that this is his first long trip too....