Madarihat- Guwahati
We knew we had to cover 450 km in a single day and that too in my car which was showing the problem of the “powertrain” intermittently. So we woke up quite early, started off with a mission to be at the border before 0900 hours and to beat the trucks. We were doing quite well, the powertrain warning light wasn’t on and doing a good, but cautious, 90 kmph towards Alipurduar. But the first folly happened when I overshot the turn towards Alipurduar and kept on driving. Only when the landscape started looking unfamiliar did we stop and ask a passer-by for directions. He guided us well and soon we were back on track. But even though we made it around 0900 hours to the border, the line of trucks had already burgeoned to an alarming length. We dodged, we dived, and we sidestepped and somehow crawled forward, occasionally having to stop behind trucks when there was no way to go. Fortunately my car on full power and I wasn’t facing any difficulties tackling the terrain.
Somehow, just somehow, we made it to the front and heaved a sigh of relief as we crossed over to Assam. I sped away as fast as possible and was doing a brisk trundling. But after a while the dreaded thing happened- the powertrain warning light came on again. It wasn’t a false alarm. But we drove on albeit at reduced speed.
In the meantime, we had been constantly phoning the transporter and trying to lock in on the position of the bikes. Several calls and several verbal abuses later, we found out that the bikes had arrived in Guwahati. But the initial cheer soon turned into worry as the office would be closed at 1600 hours and would remain closed the next day owing to Bihu. Our minds went on an overdrive now. Out came the cellphones and frantic calls were made. Gyan called up his dad and asked him to go to the transporter to somehow get the bikes out of the compound even if it meant having to bribe the guys there. At the same time, we were thinking of trying to skip the lunch arranged at the same place- my cousin’s friend’s home. Lunch was going to be a “heavy affair” and we couldn’t afford to lose time on lunch and beer. We tried to avoid it, made calls, but we were denied a denial! So it was decided we’d gulp down lunch as fast as possible, probably in my best estimate of 15 minutes and then run like hell. But the guys were skeptical saying that no matter what we’d take atleast half an hour. I was in no mood to delay anything. As it was, I was running on reduced power and we had a tight timeline to beat.
At this time, I could hear some furious honking from behind. I was doing my left lane at 75 kmph and anyone doing more than that could have overtaken me without any fuss. I was literally limping. I saw that it was a Nano. A bloody Nano was honking at me!!Cheeky bastard!! Then it overtook me, still honking. And then a Sumo Grande did the same. I was furious. Totally restless in my seat, helpless and burning to cinders. My car must have sensed it. Because the next moment, the powertrain warning light went off and I was back on full power!!! It was my turf now. Period. I was literally flying, even through a town. Then overtook the Nano with a relative speed of 50 kmph, horns blaring, lights flicking. Never saw that Nano again. The Sumo Grande was a tougher nut to crack. It even had some guards in it, and Gyan said it must be some hot shot with state police guards. I wasn’t going to give two cahoots to that and overtook the Grande in a furious battle of horses. Sure the Grande had 2.2 litres of diesel burning space and 120 horses emanating from the explosions. But I had a hot car and an even more hot-headed driver. It was almost like a drag race and I wasn’t the one to be throwing in the towel. Nobody was to bruise my red baby. Nobody. I slapped a distance of more than a kilometer between me and the Grande. And then when I was done, the light came back on. I love my car. I kissed on the wheel and cajoled sweet nothings to it. The Grande did overtake me later, but never honked.
Then came the good news – Gyan’s dad had pulled it off, so we could collect the bikes anytime of the day. The guys plans hit the roof at this and were acting like maharajahs after that – “lets stop for beer, lets have some rice beer, lets take it easy, lets collect he bikes on 15thor even 16th”. I wasn’t taking any of it and just kept flooring the pedal. Gyan suggested I turn the a/c off to add some extra 10 km to the hour. And by jove, it worked!!
We finally reached the designated place for lunch. We did stop at a dhaba before to satiate our extremely hungry stomachs. But we were warned not to have anything on the way and to save our appetite for the lunch. We had had bare minimum at the dhaba but still could not muster up enough space in our stomachs for what lay ahead. Assortment of dishes lay ahead and we were at a loss what to eat and what not to eat. Relieved by the news of the bikes, the guys digged in and splurged on the rice beer.
After an hour, we bid our goodbyes and started off towards Guwahati- some 110 km away. My car was running normal now and I sped off towards our destination. With the good news came elation and the music was turned up HIGH on Poets of the Fall. I could feel my car shaking sometime soon and turned to see that Dutta and Doley were head banging!! The rice beer had got them good!!! I even played tease me, please me with a black scorpio, much to the chagrin of Kenny! Finally, with no mood to be slowing down, I downshifted and floored the pedal and one minute later the Scorpio was a black dot on my rearview mirror.
Fortunately, my car was running normal now and by 1700 hours we had reached the airport and then breezily made it to the transporter’s godown. But the sight that welcomed us took away all the thrill of getting our hands on our faithful steeds. Curses flowed out in continuum for the guy who had promised the bikes by the 5th of April. It was 14th and the bikes were bruised bad. We collected the bikes and I escorted the guys to Gyan’s place. I came back to my place to freshen up and go back to Gyan’s place for dinner, albeit on my bike! I wasn’t going to be left behind!!
Payeng Da also joined us there and there he narrated to us that he had lost the consignment note for his bike and could not collect it that day. He was dejected too. We all were for all the right reasons, and decided to drown it over some Blenders Pride. Jayanti had made some awesome fish snacks and were “piranha’d” in no time. We narrated Gyan’s antics to Payeng Da and he too had a good laugh. See, I am right again – Gyan makes everyone smile.
In the meantime Payeng Da was offered the option to ride on a Yamaha Libero. But that meant having to wear a pink shirt- it is a tradition Gyan started and nobody dares break it. On the Libero, you had to be wearing pink and setting down your pillion on foot while you negotiate an incline. No bending the rules. We thought the pink shirt wouldn’t gel well with Payeng Da so I called up some IOCL juniors and soon had confirmation for a 150 pulsar. Payeng Da was more than happy at that.
Post dinner, I went back to my place while the guys stayed back at Gyan’s. We had to get out bikes serviced the next day before we were off to Arunachal.
2 comments:
A day filled with Fury
Later found out the powertrain light had come on because one particular 'throttle body valve' had got dirty and kept clogging.
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