From Her Heart

I know the way you look at me, 

I know that I am the only one that loves you, 

The way I do. 

All I yearn for, 

Your breath that trickles on me, 

Your touch that runs on my skin.

Your mistakes are for me to forgive, 

The curiosity to satisfy. 

I am the passion that runs through your veins, 

The fire that burns in your heart. 

You may love her, 

But you live for me, 

I am your life, 

But you're my soul. 

I am what you make me, 

You're what I make you feel.

The gentle art of getting in motion.

He gave a snug pull on the laces on each of his shoe. Brushed off toes gently and stood up. Picked up his devices and pocketed them. Stepping out of the.door, trying to recollect if he had forgotten anything as he closed the door behind him.

With the assurance, he climbed down a fleet of stairs that spanned across four storeys. Walked confidently to his deep grey motorcycle, eyeing his motorcycle from front to back, checking for any acts of mischief at his absence. He pulled the keys out of his pocket and slid them gently into the keyhole of the motorcycle and turned it on, while his other hand caressed the slightly dusted but shiny fuel tank, down to the fuel cock, and turned it on. Stood back up, pulled out with his right hand the kick start lever that rested on  the right side of the motorcycle. Held the handle grips firmly and placed his right foot on the lever's rest. With a gentle force, pressed the foot down, bring down the lever, leading to a gentle burble of the engine.

As the engine warmed up, he pulled out a cleaning rag that was nestled securely in the headlight fairing, just under the speedometer. He started wiping the tank and other panels of the motorcycle while the engine reached a steady burble which whispered into his ears that the motorcycle was now ready to accompany him to any adventures that he desired.

He folded the wiping rag into, what seemed like,  a perfect square, and then snuck it back from where he had pulled it from. He moved to the right side of the motorcycle and flung his right foot across the soft saddle and pressed his butt comfortably on it, grabbing the soft grips on the handle and pushed to motorcycle ahead to take it off from its stand. Pulling the brake on the right and the clutch on the left simultaneously, rested his left foot on the peg, while his left foot supported the balance of the motorcycle and himself. Left foot put the motorcycle in gear, and then eased the clutch out while throttling out in the counteracting motion, the motorcycle was set in motion.

Avoiding traffic fines

As a motorist, it is our duty to obey all the laws of the land. But as its said, TO ERR IS HUMAN, we all make mistakes and may break these laws and rules.

Everyone of us has paid a fine for expired PUC, busted indicators, broken mirrors or stopping ahead of the stop line or going 5 kph faster than the limit. Mind you I don't condone breaking any law, no matter how petty.

Don't do the crime if you can't do the time.

But some mistakes can be purely genuine like forgetting to renew your pollution certificate or not having the right vehicle document with you when you are caught.

The cops are there to do their job and if they catch you they need to check your documents and fine you if you are at fault.

Don't argue or start a fight with them, you are not the  first guy who they have caught. They are probably already going through a hard day - standing in harsh sun, surrounded by pollution, and other problems that we can't even think of. Don't give them a hard time, otherwise they are well versed in returning the favour.

Talk politely with them and talk respectfully. You'll know you are going to be stopped, they will generally whistle and point at your direction, if you notice that well in advance, nod your head or wave your hand as acknowledgement and DO stop.

Take out your license before they ask. Make their job easy and they will ease out on you. Keep your documents handy if you can, most bikers will keep them locked in under the seat. You might not even be asked for documents if you talk politely with the officer. If your documents are asked for and if you are at fault, apologise to them. Talk softly. Tell them if you have forgotten at home or to renew. Polite talk will see that you go out with just a warning.

But if the officer is hard bent on fining you, better cough up the fine. Whatever the end result, I always offer water before leaving; that guy could be standing out in the hot sun for hours, and facing countless rude motorists who don't know who their father is.

So let the cops do their job, be polite with them, its common courtesy. This just works for petty stuff, don't expect to get away with a warning if you don't possess license or if your horn makes noise beyond permissible levels.

Be on the better side of the law, ride safe, obey the traffic rules. Trust me, riding within the rules is far more fun than beyond them. Have a safe one!

Share your experiences below with the Johnny Law, good or bad. I'd like to hear them out!

(Attribution - Policeman Image Courtesy: Policeman with stop warning | Free vector by Vector Open Stock ) 

Machinophilia

Love is a weird thing. It can happen anytime and to anybody.  You can be walking down the street, minding your own business, and BAM! The cupid strikes you with what seems to be his bow, because he ran out of arrows.

This is what normal people experience. I have experienced what others can only comprehend as, outrageous. I won’t go as far as to call them wrong. Yes I am in love; my heart has been conquered by not one, but two Japanese beauties.

One of them is Uni, named after the mythical creature, Unicorn, one that is hard to capture, and the other goes by the name of Eri, which is Hebrew for My Guardian and Japanese for Blessed Prize. Uni is my first love; have her for about 10 years now. Eri is my, year old, second love. Yes, I am in love with my motorcycles, I am obsessed with them. If I could, I would bring them into the home everyday

You may think of it as absurd. But I challenge you to travel to any corner on this planet, and find a person who takes pride in being a part of this brotherhood but does not love his motorcycle. There is a reason for this.

We believe that every motorcycle has her own persona, a character. They are not machines, they have souls in them, and they can feel everything that is going on around them, and with me.

They have a mind of their own. There have been times when my mind was prepared for the worst, but then they just do something on their own and my butt is saved. They just take things into their hands, and at the end of it, give the most beautiful and assuring smile that says, “I will always look after you!” Then I have to just stop and give them a kiss, in public.

They feel every emotion of mine - when I feel sad, I go out for a ride, take one of them and just go somewhere. On the way I talk with her, tell what’s been eating my mind. I don’t need words for that but. They have telepathic powers, if you will. The connection at the bars and the steed is enough, and this is true for all emotions. When I am happy she’ll be excited, sometimes, even more than I am. 

After a long hard day at work, just the mere sight of her, standing there with her welcoming eyes that say “Come on honey, let’s go”, is enough to take away half the stress. Rest of it taken care of while she takes me home. 

Isn't this what everyone wants from their better half? 

She is always there for me, at all times. But she can also get upset, throw tantrums, want to be pampered and she’s absolutely right in doing that. She just stops in middle of the road if she gets angry; then comes a session of pleading and requesting and some sweet talking before her grin gives a way to the most beautiful smile.

I have found myself ogling at them for no apparent reason, just staring at them, tracing every curve and line, over and over. I can’t help it. Show me a way to bring them inside my home and you will find my lounger facing the bike, all the time.

My motorcycles have always been faithful to me; never have let me down in time of need. Their sweet voices always bring a smile to my face. All they ask in return is that I treat them with respect and care.

Even the smallest scratch brings a tear to my eye. Given an option between mending and replacing, I choose replacing – I don’t want my bike to look like a bloody Frankenstein’s Monster! Motorcycles are a thing of beauty. To each his own, but I love the way my bikes look. They are meant for me, not for anybody else.

I also ogle at other motorcycles, and my motorcycles don’t mind it at all. Let’s see if your girlfriend or wife will let you ogle at other females! You’ll be probably spending a night on the couch then.

This obsession, attraction, desire, lust, love, lunacy, call it whatever you want, is not what normal people can understand and I am glad that I am not normal! So next you meet me, don’t ask me if I am single, I am happily in a relationship with just two beauties…

..For now!

Single Piston Rider, signing in!

Hello guys, name's Single Piston Rider.

Now that oughta stall your motor! 

So here's the story - like most of the motorcyclists in India, I too started this passion with a single piston, 150cc, 149.8 to be precise, motorcycle. Even my second motorcycle was a single piston one, albeit with a slightly higher capacity - 153. 

This is the start for me, and there will be many more parallels, twins, inlines, straights, and crossplanes coming into my life. But I chose this name as an homage to the point where it all began. Consider it an anchor that reminds me of the roots. When one knows the roots, it is only then that one can dream about soaring at newer heights.

I ride out of the passion for it. I take my interest in everything motorcycles. I do love watching MotoGP and more than the upcoming cricket world cup, I am rather interested in the 2015 session of epitome of motorcycle racing, and yes, I do know who SRT is, and take pride in having met him not so long ago, but my god goes by the name of The Doctor!

Motorcycling is my religion and I am proud of being a part of this brotherhood that spawns across globe. Every new day, I start my motorcycle with an intention to get better at riding her. Yes, her! My motorcycles are the love of my life. I love them beyond the comprehension of a common human being, but since you are reading this I am sure you know what I am talking about.

I have been called moronic for this Machinophilia. There are times when I am sitting alone staring at my motorcycle. I will talk more about this but all in the right time.

Here's me and I would like to know who you are! Write down in comments below who you are, what you like, questions if any, what you would like me to write about.

Ciao!