I sat, groggy eyed, fighting the hangover from hell, listening to this guy talking about his “wondrous journey” halfway across the world. Being in this industry, I have heard some far out, wild and crazy shit. As I tried to dig my fingers into the mealworm and mud pâté I was served, I tried concentrating on the scintillating story rather than focus on the insects crawling through my intestines.
I vaguely remember a woman dancing on the bar as I listened to this amusing group of zebra hunters freakishly ramble on and on about riding through the hills of Nepal while chasing the White Buffalo.
“We took a trip that covered 838 kms (521 miles) over a span of 3 days,” he spoke in an ashen whisper that reeked of beer and cigarettes.
I struggled to focus. My head swam in Yak Piss wine and my brain buzzed from the ounce of hashish an Indian trader sold me at the border. I usually don’t buy from people at airports, but this woman rode a flying carpet and burped like a camel. I made the shape of a small Indian man with jet black hair and skin like a saddle. He whispered again as I began leaning in trying to hear his story.
“Hey! Why are you leaning over that barstool you white pig?! You love me or sumting?”
I began shaking my head while again squinting my eyes and trying to focus on the man’s face.
“I’m talking to you infidel! Don’t you understand me so well?” With that he pulled a twelve inch blade from the sheath he had attached to his left leg. Before I realized what had happened, two of his boys grabbed my arms and held them back. I felt the blade pressing softly against my throat as he uttered a visceral. “You’re going to die today you filthy piece of trash!”
Just as the blade started to pierce my stubble covered neck, I found the wherewithal to mutter a simple, yet lifesaving plea, “Bandit sent me.”
The color from his face evaporated as he pulled the knife back immediately and began scanning the crowd, wild eyed violence flared from his nostrils. He gasped audibly and spittle clung from the corners of his mouth, “El Bandito! Where is he?” He once again scanned the room like a coward searches to see the bully before the bully sees him. Once he realized Bandit was nowhere to be found, he turned his attention back to me.
“What you mean Bandit sent you?”
“Why do you think? We needed a new story for Bikernet and I was fucking around with one of his women. I guess to punish me, he sent me across the world to get the stories from remote places such as this,” I explained. The clock on the wall seemed to stop as his face twitched with anger. I knew immediately I had said something wrong. Then the lights went out.
I awoke to a knot on my head and a terrible case of cottonmouth. The door in front of me was made out of some sort of wood planks and I seemed to be in a very small space judging by the pain in my knees and back. I appeared to be curled in a ball and placed into a box just small enough to make it uncomfortable. As I tried to press against the confines of my wooden prison, I could feel the sweat start to bead up around my neck and back. Just when the pain seemed to get unbearable, I heard his voice.
”People involved were,- myself, Viral Thakkar, riding a Honda Unicorn, Rakesh aboard a Hero Honda Karizma, and Om, also aboard a Hero Honda Karizma.
The places traveled included: Mumbai, Nashik, Shapta Shringi, Anjani, Trimbakeshwar, Shirdi, Shani Shingnapur, and Mumbai. note-I am not sure where these places are, but they sounded far out to me!
I tried to scream in agony, but my knees pressing against my chest caused an acute pain in my sternum. I could only reply in a barley audible gasp, “What are you talking about? Why am I locked up?”
Although I couldn’t see his face, I could feel his anger when he spoke directly to me, “You are an adulterous pig! We don’t take to lying worms like you around here,” he exclaimed as he spat out loud. It was if even talking to me or addressing me caused him to have a shitty taste in his mouth.
I felt the crate I was being held captive in being carried. While seeing inside the crate was very difficult, I could see glimpses of light and sand pass by through the cracks of the walls. I was being carried somewhere.“We were going to travel across my country and have an adventure to remember for ever,” my wonderful host exclaimed.
“According to our odometers, we traveled 838 kms in 3 days and two nights. The meeting point was Mulund at 6:00.” Once I was shipped back home, I found out Mulund is a prosperous suburb located in the northeast of Mumbai.
“Once again, the people involved were Om, Rakesk and myself, Viral.” He loved spouting his name more than the rest. This evil man was obviously very proud and very well respected.
“Starting from meeting point, we began our ride to Nashik. Nashik is a city in India's Maharashtra state. We enjoyed several halts along the way. One such halt, my bike actually fell off the side stand,” He roared with laughter as I was thrown into a carrier of some sort. By the looks and sounds, I could only guess it was a truck of some sort. The smells indicated it was used for livestock.
“The damage wasn’t very extensive, but I had to bend the clutch handle to get her running well enough for us to still make our noon-time destination. We fortunately did reach the destination at lunch time. Being where we needed to be, we checked into the Blue Moon Boarding Hotel,” he once again continued his diatribe. I was fading in and out of consciousness.
“After we freshened up, we made our way to a near by restaurant, Dwarka.” (According to my research, Dwarka is situated in the westernmost part of India in the state of Gujarat, Dwarka is an important pilgrimage center.)
“After lunch we rested awhile, and then started at 5:00 for Shapta Shringi. Even while taking short breaks and enjoying the breathtaking view of the ghats, we still reached our destination at around 8:05 pm. Perfect timing as the temple closes at 9:00 pm. The name, Shapta Shringi, means 7 peaks. The main one is the temple of a goddess who is said to have killed a demon. She then went through the peak making her impression and the temple was born.”
The vehicle started to move, but I was amazed I could still hear my generous host. He was sitting next to the crate speaking directly into it.
I finally mustered enough strength to utter a few words in his direction,” Why are you telling me this, I don’t give a fat rat's ankle.”
This angered him to the point of a shrill pitched shriek from his gullet, “If it were up to me, infidel, you would be buried up to your neck while the Gulla-Gulla army ants ate the flesh from your face!”
After a few minutes and what sounded to be 10 exasperated breaths he began again,“It takes around 138 stairs, which were on a very steep incline, to reach the temple. We made our way up, but were all very exhausted by the time we reached the crest!Taking our darshan, (looking around and enjoying the view) we sat in the temple, where the vibrations are very soothing. We sipped on water and tried to gather the energy to start coming down.”
“Once again, 130 stairs. Once we got down to the place where our bikes were parked, we started off. We decided to have our dinner at a Dhaba, a small family run Indian restaurant, near our hotel. We ate a wonderful meal, finishing off a very beautiful day.”
“The next morning we woke up by 7:30 and quickly started off for Trimabkeshwar. At around 10 Am., the major stop on the way was at Anjani. This is the birth place of Hanumanji. There is a 20 feet idol of Hanumanji which is just a wonderful sight. Behind this temple is the Anjani fort. Hanumanji is said to be born in those mountains. The wind also never stops there they say because Hanumanji is the son of wind. After taking darshan of this beautiful temple, we started again to Trimbak, which is just 2 kms from there. OM and I arrived, but Rakesh was left behind. Till the time he showed up, we decided to have a cup of tea and cold drinks to help us chill in the hot weather. As Rakesh turned up, we parked our bikes and made our way to the temple. There was a huge “q” to get darshan, but we were determined to have it, so we made out way and got in the line.”
I had heard enough but was determined to live at this point. I still had no idea where we were headed. “Viral, let me out of this box so I can write this stuff down. I will never remember it for the website.”
“You will remember or I will make sure you die!”
Amazingly, I remember every word he spoke.
He began again, “After spending nearly 90 minutes, we got our darshan. We came out, got on our machines and started off to Shirdi. On the way, we had a lunch in a restaurant, which we later discovered was owned by a collector of nashik. After lunch, we started off to Shirdi.
On the way we halted at a village where the people were scared of us, thinking that we were robbers. There was a rumor robbers were on the way and they were prepared to fight. Unfortunately, we were mistaken for the so-called thieves. They retaliated by throwing rocks and wooden planks to trying to get us down and robus! I began to laugh, secretly wishing the villagers would have taken care of this cretin. He responded by poking a stick into the side of the box and poking my ribs hard enough to break the skin. I felt the steam of blood steadily flow from the now open wound. I was sure I’d be infected with the dreaded malaria before sundown.
“If we were very unlucky, we may only get beaten up! Unlucky, and we would have been killed.”
”This scared us and we started to rip our machines, desperately trying to keep up with a group of cars to be safe.”
“We barely made it, thanking the great animals of our former lives for protecting us. As we made our way to Shirdi we searched for a hotel. Once we checked into a hotel in Abhishek, we found that the story of a robber was a hoax!” he exclaimed with a roaring laugh.
“Laughing on the incident, we had our dinner and then a walk around the temple. We wandered off to sleep wishing on other beautiful days and great nights. The third day we started off late, as Rakesh and I woke up very late. We woke up by 9:00 am, rushed to the temple where we made it at 9:30. We were waiting in the line till 12:00 and made our way to attend the aarti, which was like an achievement that we made it out of the temple by 1:30pm. All of us were hungry, so we went to the Abhishek restaurant and had our lunch.”
I could hear camels and some foreign language exchanges back and forth. Viral was very agitated and seemed to be in negotiations with a man speaking with a German accent. I did not feel very secure.
“You are lucky, infidel! The boat leaves in three hours. I will sit here with you and finish my tale and then you will be off!”
I didn’t feel the need to respond.
He began again, “We started off at 3:00 for Shani Shingnapur. The starting roads were very rough at first, but later on smoothed out. We finally reached Shani Shingnapur, had the darshan, and after that a little rest. We enjoyed the beverages and left for Mumbai. The route which was decided was Shani Shingnapur to Ahemadnagar to Pune and finally to Mumbai. Later on, we bypassed Pune as we took a right from Chakna and joined NH4 all the way to Lonavala. On the way, Rakesh and I had bad experiences. Mine was because of the hardcore deeper lights used by uncivilized drivers who don't even care to turn them off for you, which made a curve completely invisible. Somehow I managed to pull back and nothing happened. While on NH4, Rakesh was ahead of me when a biker suddenly turned out from a village and brushes his shoulders @ 100kmph! Nothing happened again, and by the grace of Go, we reached Lonavala. We had a light snack and beverages before starting off to Mumbai. I was home safe and sound and exhausted by 2:44am.”
“Overall a beautiful ride with the people of MBC, Mumbai Biker's Club. on 29th of april'2007 till 1st may'2007.”
With that, I heard him walk away. Puzzled about what would happen next, I felt a needle poke my side and the obvious feeling of liquid cement serum injected into my ribs. The next thing I remember was waking up in the cantina with a CD pinned to my chest and a note and picture attached-
Bandit, he is all yours. Thanks.–Viral Thakkar!
