With the charging excitement and
burning asphalt, here I am on the road again. And this time the road trip did
all the magic it was supposed to. This short getaway also seemed to be the
sequel to my recently done Goa trip. Hmm… did I mention Goa? Let me talk about
it in my next article.
The quick trip to Basara was
keenly looked forward because it was a family outing after really long time.
And guys, it was actually really long time. The destination is quite a famous
pilgrimage as Goddess Saraswati abodes there.
My son’s Aksharabhyasam was
planned there and somehow, I made up my mind that it has to be done in that
village. Not that I am religious or something, but my only intention was that
we all as a family would be able to spend together in a new milieu.
Now I hope many of you may be
finding some difficulty to read the word referring to the ritual. Let me make
things easy for you. It is a customary indicating the child is now ready to
obtain formal education. “Welcome to the complex world son”, was
my hint indirectly.
After exploring many permutations
like; ‘should we all go now or everyone will be able to make it or should we do
this ritual locally and plan for Basara some other time… blah… blah…blah, the
journey plan was eventually finalized.
The enthusiasm got bigger and
better as the discussions funnelled down to second level which were like when
should we go and how should we go etc. We cracked up few things like transport
and stay, whilst our parents worry continued on whether we would be able to
foot all the bills and yet be comfortable throughout the month? We are middle
class people and we do not hesitate to think on these lines. Do we?
The long dilly-dally ended and without
wasting a minute, we hired a cab for 8 members at home. The other 2 of us, precisely my brother-in-law
and I have decided to ride my bullet, which is about 215 kilometres from my
place.
A day prior to the travel, I
spent adequate hours at my mechanic shop and got all the repairs done. On the
D-day, I wrapped up my work and rushed back home around 7. 45pm. Took a quick
shower and begun my ride… err… glide by 8: 30 pm along with my bro-in-law.
Although, it was little late,
both of us were neither in a rush to reach the destination nor to explore
the insane riding experiences on the highway. Simple reason, we were very clear
that riding on patience is wiser than on egos.
The next thing we know was the
grand welcome of the amazing highway that has no reason to complian. The bullet only knew on giving us a smooth
riding experience and thrill of such a long ride, was actually a priceless.
The excitement was high and so
was the mood, but we made it a point that we shall use our energies conservatively.
Our voluntary breaks at every 50-60 kilometres for our favourite refreshment,
which were tea and smokes, have been great help in enjoying the riding experience. At around 10: 30pm we stopped for dinner as
we wanted to avoid erratic food times. The following day is a much-awaited
day and we could not afford to lose the core purpose.
With no opinions, we entered a
not-so-good-looking dabha. We sat and ordered for a water bottle followed by a
menu card. Now, this is the hilarious part, the menu card looks so old that at
one point I actually felt that it must have been the archaeological excavation.
Anyway, with not too much of
positivity on the culinary abilities, we ordered few rotis and egg kheema
curry, with a firm belief that rotis and egg have no much scope to be damaged.
The guy who took the ordered seemed so confused and pale, that we began to
doubt his comprehending skills.
Ironically, the dabha was not so
good looking, yet has a brand new Sony LED TV playing some crappy movie. We were however, not watching the movie as we were lost in our own
conversations and smokes. In the midst of these conversations, comes some
piping hot food and with absolutely no clue we took the first bite and damn...
Yes friends, you heard it right,
we were lost with the superb taste of the food and we couldn’t resist eating
the remaining food. With the cheerfulness for taking the right food stop and
hunger in the stomach, we gladly swooped on the entire food.
With delighted spirits we thanked
the chef there for serving us really tasty food and our happiness doubled when
we were asked to pay only ₹. 125 for 6
rotis, Egg Kheema and soft drinks, reminding me of the Mc Donald’s famous ad, “aaj
ke date mein hamare zamane ke rate, ye nahi ho sakta.”
Anyway, with all our happiness in
our bellies we continued our ride which was more 125 kilometres pending. The
magnificent roads were nothing short of riders’ paradise and a couple of
stopovers for tea and smokes, our ride to Basara became more exciting.
The happiness quotient constantly
raised and 50 kilometres from Basara we took the final break for a quick relax.
Upon drinking some hot tea along with smokes, our last leg of the ride began.
Passing through the sleepy roads of Nizamabad at around 2: 00 am, we landed on a
deserted road which had no street lights and road divider markers.
Riding through this path was an unexplainable
experience, as we were the lone riders on the road. The mixed emotions like a
pinch of scare and a dash of curiosity on the road condition ahead have stirred
our energy levels and finally helped us reach the Basara village junction.
We could neither find a single
soul on the road, nor a signature board to assure our trajectory. With unknown
distance ahead, a little drizzle and pitch dark night clocking around 2: 20 am,
the road finally connected to us a highway.
Albeit, we knew that we weren’t too
far from our destination, we couldn’t find any indicator highlighting our
leftover distance. A quick glimpse at our topography, we were able to find a
Petrol Station.
With little hope and happiness to
find some help, we entered the Petrol Station to find some guidance. Again, the
surprises were not exhausted yet as we couldn’t find a single soul. We parked
the Bullet, and I started going through the maps, sadly the internet
connectivity was absolutely testing our patience. With all options becoming
futile, we walked up to their office to find some help. We knocked the door to
check the precise directions but to our disappointment, we couldn’t find any
help.
With no man in the vicinity and
strengthened with our gut instincts, we walked back to our Bullet and were
about to club our gear to riding ahead, here comes a shriek, “Who is that?” Our
hearts missed a skip or two for a brief time and were scared to see who it was?
While our lookout was going on who it was, from behind we hear a stick being
hit on the ground and the sound was nearing was.
With bated breath and with a dilemma
whether to turn behind or not, we felt a firm touch on our shoulder and within
no time, we realized that someone else’s hand on both our shoulders. With
silence around, no inhabitation with our purview, we have understood that we
rode about 220 kilometres only to experience the most terrifying moment.
With a mixture of these thoughts
and with a belief that were going to the final moments of our life, we turned
towards the direction the hands were kept on our shoulders. We were….
To be Continued…
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