Rewind

Just like everyone else, like Martin Luther King; I too had a dream. A dream to explore the whole sub-continent of India and if possible most parts of the world, not to mention on a motorcycle. Motorcycles, the bulky and beautiful beasts made of steel and iron which are capable of accelerating you towards eternal bliss, taking you so far away from all of your responsibilities that you might not even want to look back at all. Motorcycles; my first love.

The idea of the very first expedition was to hire a Royal Enfield 550cc, grab all the essentials and leave for the place best known as a biker’s paradise: Ladakh .The very thought of being in that snow clad heaven which could be at a height of 3000 meters and even above, gave me chills of anxiety. The rumbling sound of the engine would be throttled up attaining the lifelong pursuit of arriving somewhere, where I don’t care who I am, neither do I care of what the world wants me to be. Somewhere where I live rather than just exist.

Its 2 AM in the night. I can feel the wind wrestling with my tent while I scribble in the diary. My two companions to the eternal journey i.e. my eldest brother and our mechanic denied to show any signs of life. It’s very cold in here, so cold that I can’t even feel a portion of my face, well 18000 feet has its own cons. Despite of the semi paralysis that I suffer, I seem to have attained peace. It is indeed ecstatic to be drowned in the serenity of motionless contentment. There’s a smile I wear, which is a constant reminder of the memorable journey I had. The passage of en route from Manali to the highest drive-able point on earth, Khardung La was a life changing scenario. It’s amazing to notice the diversity of this country in the span of almost 500 kilometers. Ladakh is indeed heaven, way better that I had imagined. The shy you get by looking at your serene reflection in the Pangong lake or the picturesque that the horizon offers, each sight is impeccable. With my eyelids pushing the rest of me to dive in a cold slumber, I cease to collect as many memories which I could and probably recite them to my grandchildren.There is always a long lived desire of doing something crazy is every one’s heart. Something preventing them from getting stuck in the world of harsh realities and exposes them into a place possessing fictional reality. Something which was always there in their ‘to do’ list but they never got the chance to put that ‘tick’ over it.

I have ticked mine, have you?