“I had the scariest ride of my life today….”
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He had not stepped on that pedal for an entire fortnight. What was earlier his first love suddenly seemed like a distant acquaintance. He lovingly looked at it, filling the blanks in his memories with it. He remembered racing past the obstacles, and jeering at the others when they went ahead. The memories of the pit-stops and lunging to catch the next check post.
It was just two weeks before, that he was the proud driver of that mean machine. Boasting of many a high end gadget. Speed regulators were like peanuts for this tough guy. He could navigate bends in a manner that would make Schumacher blush and hide behind his mom. But he never boasted of that. He knew where he belonged, and that the road to where he should be, was a long and tough one. But that was what he encountered each day.
Suited up each time for battle, in his khaki overalls, and exuding daredevilry by opting to lunge into the track minus any protective gear, he epitomised attitude. When he rode, the streets were his. All this was him, a fortnight ago. And here he was now, staring down at the control panel, longing to see it spring up to life like the good old’ days!
He was not one to race on clear tracks. The unpredictable streets were the thing for him. With his partner, he would circumnavigate the streets and take on its challenges with full charge, literally. He would not care two hoots for competition, he would mow it down! For him, anything mortal was not worthy of standing up to!
He had the license to kill they said… But he laughed at their ignorance. For they, who call a driving prodigy a killer, were to be scorned. He was responsible for the upkeep of the superiority of the streets. To teach the lesser mortals their place with respect to the higher forms such as himself, the guardians of the streets.
He was no meagre street racer, he was special. One of the chosen few. Who could close one eye and still pass off a course like a child’s sandbox. And this is what made him special. He never took part in the commonwealth games! He hated them! They were what separated him from his precious! His precious…… what gave people nightmares, the sight of which prompted them to scoot and run helter-skelter. But now it seemed like a tamed dog. Whimpering to a start when he ignited its engine.
He put his foot down on the gas, and his precious roared. He could feel the energy bustling back into him. He felt powerful again, he looked out of his conspicuously absent windshield, breathed in a huge whiff of the smoggy Delhi air, and roared off to start his busy day. With people swaying out at all angles from the front and rear of his mean-machine, He outwitted the traffic lights to get ahead of his competitors and reach the bus stops, his check posts, while skilfully manoeuvring past a bunch of pedestrians and a two wheeler every now and then. He was back! Back with the same vigour that define the Delhi streets. Hooray people, commonwealth games are over…Delhi’s necessary devils… THE BLUE-LINES ARE BACK!!
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“LOL! No i was on a scooty, and i was not even the one riding it! :-/”
------------------X---------------X---------------------X-------------------------
He had not stepped on that pedal for an entire fortnight. What was earlier his first love suddenly seemed like a distant acquaintance. He lovingly looked at it, filling the blanks in his memories with it. He remembered racing past the obstacles, and jeering at the others when they went ahead. The memories of the pit-stops and lunging to catch the next check post.
It was just two weeks before, that he was the proud driver of that mean machine. Boasting of many a high end gadget. Speed regulators were like peanuts for this tough guy. He could navigate bends in a manner that would make Schumacher blush and hide behind his mom. But he never boasted of that. He knew where he belonged, and that the road to where he should be, was a long and tough one. But that was what he encountered each day.
Suited up each time for battle, in his khaki overalls, and exuding daredevilry by opting to lunge into the track minus any protective gear, he epitomised attitude. When he rode, the streets were his. All this was him, a fortnight ago. And here he was now, staring down at the control panel, longing to see it spring up to life like the good old’ days!
He was not one to race on clear tracks. The unpredictable streets were the thing for him. With his partner, he would circumnavigate the streets and take on its challenges with full charge, literally. He would not care two hoots for competition, he would mow it down! For him, anything mortal was not worthy of standing up to!
He had the license to kill they said… But he laughed at their ignorance. For they, who call a driving prodigy a killer, were to be scorned. He was responsible for the upkeep of the superiority of the streets. To teach the lesser mortals their place with respect to the higher forms such as himself, the guardians of the streets.
He was no meagre street racer, he was special. One of the chosen few. Who could close one eye and still pass off a course like a child’s sandbox. And this is what made him special. He never took part in the commonwealth games! He hated them! They were what separated him from his precious! His precious…… what gave people nightmares, the sight of which prompted them to scoot and run helter-skelter. But now it seemed like a tamed dog. Whimpering to a start when he ignited its engine.
He put his foot down on the gas, and his precious roared. He could feel the energy bustling back into him. He felt powerful again, he looked out of his conspicuously absent windshield, breathed in a huge whiff of the smoggy Delhi air, and roared off to start his busy day. With people swaying out at all angles from the front and rear of his mean-machine, He outwitted the traffic lights to get ahead of his competitors and reach the bus stops, his check posts, while skilfully manoeuvring past a bunch of pedestrians and a two wheeler every now and then. He was back! Back with the same vigour that define the Delhi streets. Hooray people, commonwealth games are over…Delhi’s necessary devils… THE BLUE-LINES ARE BACK!!
-----------------X-----------------X------------------X---------------------
“LOL! No i was on a scooty, and i was not even the one riding it! :-/”
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