Archives from Saurabh Garg
Right now.
NOTE: After my last post, Couple of people asked me to repost this. Here is the post. Verbatim. Havent changed anything.
When you are on a trip, there are three phases that you go through. More mental than physical, these phases are what it makes riding so special.
So Phase 1 is when you have just started the trip and you are dreaming of all the good things that you would go through during the course of the ride. You already start dreaming of time when your thoughts are racing ahead of your bike that fast that your mind becomes numb, the road blurs and the roar of the bike is no longer there. The bike becomes a part of your body and its sound, your heartbeat. You can feel it. You can feel it coming. You are anticipating for the happy times.
Phase 2 is the actual state of bliss. The state that you dream of when you just set out to ride. This phase lasts just about few minutes before you are interrupted but these minutes are something that make the entire ordeal worth it. Some might want to compare this pleasure with orgasm. This is the time when your thoughts actually start to flow. This is that mental state that all the sages try to achieve. The state when they say they have attained nirvana. When everything else ceases to matter. Everything is put on hold. You ignore everything. All things big and all things small. You live in the now. You become part of it. You are now. You don’t make any grandiose plans. Things become clear. Clouds start parting.
And then the Phase 3. It’s like coming back from heaven. Or from hell for that matter. This is the time when you start thinking what to do next. About the next destination and the next journey. This is when you start reflecting on things. And most of your introspection happens. This is where you think about things that you are running away from and things that you are running towards. This is where you decide you want to change jobs, marry her, create a company, get rich, quit, restart, change world. This is where you actually plan it. First. Thoughts just pop up. You never thought you would think about those things. You never imagined you could think about those things. They suddenly appear out of nowhere.
That’s a different story that most of them are gone by the time the dust settles down. Some people do get lucky. They remember what they have been thinking about. What they need to do once they are back.
About me, I am about 2 rides old. Both of them less than 100 Kms. And I cant even imagine the joy and pain of an overnight ride. What would motivate someone to ride an entire day, sleep with a stiff back and get up next morning to go through the ordeal all over again. And with no one around to boast about this ride. No certificates to show. No titles to chase or defend. The entire idea looks anti-civilization to me. Weren’t we suppose to settle down? Weren’t we supposed to be a part of a never-ending rat race? Weren’t we supposed to slog and slog till one day when we realize we are 80 and we did everything but know ourselves better? And come to think of it, why exactly would one want to know himself better?
Most riders, including myself don’t think all this when they plan a ride. They just do it. They just want to get away. They want to run. They want to see places. They want to explore. Each trip brings with itself its own set of discoveries. And each trip creates its own set of memories.
Like this Rabbi Shergill song … “jaddon na kujh agge disse tahiyon bandaa vekhe picche”. Literally translated, “When you can’t see ahead, that is when you think about your past”.
I read somewhere that us humans work towards only one thing – that we would be missed when we are not around. I think everyone is trying to be immortal. We are trying not to die. We are trying to stay here forever. The rides are probably a step closer to that ever-elusive immortality. Some get it, when they are riding. And some unlucky ones don’t. The lucky ones get their bragging rights. And unlucky ones, get to ride another ride. Not much to chose between the two if you ask me.
We live our lives trying to be someone we are not. We look at all the wonderful things around us and suddenly we think we are supermen. We can do everything that everyone else is doing. And excel at it. And compete with people who have spent their lives working towards getting just a slight edge over you. We are not born with biking in our DNA. We grow up and along the way see someone or experience something that tilts our needles towards biking. I think, like all the trips, this post needs to be left hanging in air. In anticipation.
Of what?
I don’t know. Yet.
I wrote this while going for a meeting to Faridabad (some 35 KMs from where I stay). I was driving in my dad’s car and like always, had put on a CD with my favorite music on it.
First ten mins. OMG. Its very far. Next ten. Nice music. Next ten. Yawn, bored of listening to the same music again and again. Next ten you curse the traffic. Wonder why you dint notice the traffic all this while. Next ten you realize its close to an hour since you started. And you are surprised that you managed to kill yet another hour of your life while driving. And you never realized it. And next ten, you dread the next thirty or so minutes that you will take to reach your destination.
Compare this to this post I wrote on three phases that you go through while you are biking.
Love working at nights. No phone calls. No pesky bosses. No door bells. No girlfriends. No traffic. No Aaj Tak. No breaking news. No where to go. Nothing else to do. Work. And bliss.
While writing this, I was in the middle of composing a long email (to VP and RK), working on a sitemap (for SS), a phone call (from VG) and a session of poker (on FB).
Written at 1:31 AM, Friday, December the 4th, 2009.
Joshua, in his painfully funny book, Then we came to the end, says
Some people would never forget certain people, a few people would remember everyone, and most of us would mostly be forgotten.
How true. The quote.
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This day on, my blog will start featuring adult content. Reader discretion advised. If you think am getting offensive with what I write, please move on.
I am pissed. Very pissed. Furious. Raged. And all those adjectives that the creators of English language created to express an emotion of extreme anger, frustration and helplessness. I am all of that. And more. More than words can express. More that I can put in shape of words. Wish I could write better.
And why is that I am all of the above? Because I just came back from a wedding where the groom was “gifted” a BMW. From what I heard, the car is about 84 lakhs INR in Delhi. Can you believe it? 84 lakhs? A gift. I dint even know a car could cost that much. Not even in my dreams.
I thought people like that only existed on Page 3s. And if they were for real, they had to be bollywood stars, cricketers and/or politicians. But now I officially know a guy, firsthand, who has received a preposterous amount as gift. For his wedding.
I have always know that world is unfair but it suddenly looks lot more depressing. The battle with myself look pointless. The reason to exist and go though all the agony look pointless. All the effort that I am putting in, all those things that I am doing, all the flak that I have been taking from friends, family, neighbors etc seems going down the drain. All the promises I made to myself look like mirages.
Imagine there are some people, that have enough free cash to be able to gift their daughters 84 lakhs. I am not even talking about other expenses that a wedding entails. Fuuck!!!
In my 27 years, my total earnings, ever, collectively is less than half of that. And I am an MBA from one of the top ten BSchools in India. Come to think of it me, my dad, my sis put together do not make that kind of money.
How the fuck am I supposed to compete with people who have all the money to do what they want to do? I couldn’t launch a business for want of bloody 10, 000 rupees. 84 lakhs is 8400 ten thousands. This dude can launch 8400 of these businesses before I even dream.
And if I asked that guy to make that much money without using any influence, power, contacts, friends, how many years, wait, how many lives would he need to reach a tenth of that amount? O, this is debateable. Forget this line. But its unreal the kind of opulence that some people live in.
How did guys like Dhirubhai Ambani manage things? How? Some divine intervention? May be. Mera kya hoga? Suddenly I am worried. And how.
Life suddenly looks so so unfair and so meaningless. Why the fuck am I even trying? fuck. One of those days I guess …
Initially written on 3rd Dec 2009. Gave myself a break of few day before posting this to be able to look at things rationally. But more I think about it, more sick I get.