Enough's enough, time to write again. Well, never had better weekends before. How much a mere 2 day period can mean to us? You only realize that when you're stuck onto your chair for 5 days a week, when you can see awesome weather outside with a clean glass wall in between that stops you. Well, this was kind of unplanned trip that had been planned once before when Bang Boys had come here for a weekend, but couldn't be materialized. With the support of Fakka (who turned out to be a person, who has many trips planned in future on his Royal Enfield), it was Bidar. All we knew about this city was that there is a fort and a gurdwara. Gayal tried searching everything about this city, that may make it sound some fun in advance, but in vain. On other hand, Bhatia joined us from Bangalore on a short notice, without getting involved in the mail thread (I guess, that was the reason trip was awesome). So, four people set on a Royal Enfield and Shukla's Apache (a bike devoid of a number plate since its inception, so much that it had to be replaced by Nittu's Pulsar). While they were getting Pulsar, me and Fakka stopped against a roadside tea joint. After 2 cups of coffee, he says "Abe paper soap hai kya?". I was like, "Dafuq, dude. Wo raha wash basin, dho le haath". Fakka: "Abe nahi...raste mein agar pressure pad gaya toh?" And I'm thinking, "Aur log mujhe bolte hai". So he says, "Chal ghar chalte hai vaapis, paas mein hi hai". I could see a little pain (the pain of 'pressure') on his face. So had to go back and then finally begin our journey.
So we set at around 10 am and with a stoppage in between (at chacha's dhaba, really warm chacha), we reached on first a road surrounded by cotton fields on the both sides and then a bumpy road to Singur Reservoir. Some futwagraphy in the middle of the road with the dam in the background, some time on lake and we were off to Bidar. The BULT was leading all the way, until we were asked to slow down and hear their horn before we could disappear. What for? Gayal and Bhatia had spotted a tube-well pipe in a field. Had to go back to enjoy it. We had picked some 'ganne' from a trolley that was being loaded on a route that we had caught wrongly. And that bath under pure water accompanied by juicy sugarcane was really memorable. Before stepping into the field, I had asked a lady working in the neighboring field if we could stop there. She readily responded in affirmative. Rural folks and simplicity of their lives and character!! I wish I could be like them.
Again, we moved on to our destination, on a road, damn straight for 30-40 kilometres with the BULT gliding through the landscape at 80 kmph. We reached the fort at around 5:30 pm. A large fort with walls crumbling, testimony to the empire that may have existed there. We were resting on the those remains, when I see below a plain ground, with some kids with Messi t-shirts and studds in polythenes. I wish I had started that early, nevertheless, I asked them to join they readily agreed. Some I was of the belief, that I would easily trick them off the ball and score easily. But I was terribly mistaken. Gayal had also joined me with 14-15 year old fellas. In my first run itself, I slipped and fell down (this happened at least 10 more times). Coming to the level of game, a guy in his chappals used all tricks that I usually search youtube for. WTF!! I could not take the ball from him even once. Among those kids, we were wondering if we could get the ball as they single-handed robbed us of the ball. A post-game chat with them revealed that they had been playing football from 5-6 years and that the guy with chappals had even gone upto national level for his local club. He told how he had rejected an offer of a company to play for them in their team, in lieu of some money that they would give to his parents. "Girvi rakh lete wo" , he said in typically Hyderabadi tone.
After wishing them luck, we went on towards gurdwara hoping to get some place to stay that night. Tired we were, and skeptical whether we would get some room or not. But how wrong we were to have even little doubt, a Gurdwara, to me is an eternal place. About 2 years ago, I had stayed in Mysore Gurdwara (with parents) and it had been a pleasant experience too. Enter the premises of the temple, and it feels like home, loads of Punjabis there, although some Sikh guys speaking Kannada seems strange (but such diverse India with these amalgams is lovely to have). After matha-tek at gurdwara, we go to the enquiry office and find a guy who is from Punjab and is too enquiring about rooms (he had already booked). He asks where we are from. On Bhatia's response 'SGNR', he asks Ganganagar vich kithe? (and Bhatia is pumped up to find someone from his home town as if he is reminded of the following lines that lie /*commented */ in the source code of his web.iiit site - 'I was born in a small city, 10km away from the indo-pak border, but now I live in Hyderabad, far far away from my parents, my home, in quest for the knowledge.'
After getting a room, with 4 elegant beds and our tired bodies, Fakka immediately jumps on one of them to grab some sleep after a night-out the day before. But he is persuaded by us to go to the eating joints around gurdwara at around 10 pm. We come back after having a shitty lassi and fall to sleep before we complete some card game we begin with.
In morning, we get up after having a wonderful sleep on those king-size mattresses and take holy dip in the sarovar of gurdwara. Too hesitant to go in 1-piece in front of the lady that is standing besides it. Anyways, we go out (with Fakka in his knickers because his inner thing is too revealing and has been witnessed by many a people). 3-4 dips in the cold water and we were out at langar house to eat and do some sewa. Not many people were having their breakfast, so we were bestowed upon the job of bringing tree twigs and branches to kitchen. So we took 3-4 rounds (Bhatia 5-6 maybe) and finally had our breakfast with chole and roti. The calmness that prevailed around that premises made this trip a spiritual one, no hurry to get back. Stopping at many a roadside joints/dhabas full of truck drivers (many of them from Punjab and Haryana as well) was another part. The close shave me and Fakka had while overtaking a roadways bus from left side was a forgettable experience though. Almost through our entire route, overtaking from left was a norm \FAKKA and BULT/, kaun roke. Finally we reached in the afternoon the next day.
Another thing happened, when fakka went running to the place where his BULT was parked because mofo had been resting on the fort wall for an hour before he realized that keys were missing. In Bhatia's word, if he had not found the keys, he would have found a person distributing 'panjeeri' !!
So we set at around 10 am and with a stoppage in between (at chacha's dhaba, really warm chacha), we reached on first a road surrounded by cotton fields on the both sides and then a bumpy road to Singur Reservoir. Some futwagraphy in the middle of the road with the dam in the background, some time on lake and we were off to Bidar. The BULT was leading all the way, until we were asked to slow down and hear their horn before we could disappear. What for? Gayal and Bhatia had spotted a tube-well pipe in a field. Had to go back to enjoy it. We had picked some 'ganne' from a trolley that was being loaded on a route that we had caught wrongly. And that bath under pure water accompanied by juicy sugarcane was really memorable. Before stepping into the field, I had asked a lady working in the neighboring field if we could stop there. She readily responded in affirmative. Rural folks and simplicity of their lives and character!! I wish I could be like them.
Again, we moved on to our destination, on a road, damn straight for 30-40 kilometres with the BULT gliding through the landscape at 80 kmph. We reached the fort at around 5:30 pm. A large fort with walls crumbling, testimony to the empire that may have existed there. We were resting on the those remains, when I see below a plain ground, with some kids with Messi t-shirts and studds in polythenes. I wish I had started that early, nevertheless, I asked them to join they readily agreed. Some I was of the belief, that I would easily trick them off the ball and score easily. But I was terribly mistaken. Gayal had also joined me with 14-15 year old fellas. In my first run itself, I slipped and fell down (this happened at least 10 more times). Coming to the level of game, a guy in his chappals used all tricks that I usually search youtube for. WTF!! I could not take the ball from him even once. Among those kids, we were wondering if we could get the ball as they single-handed robbed us of the ball. A post-game chat with them revealed that they had been playing football from 5-6 years and that the guy with chappals had even gone upto national level for his local club. He told how he had rejected an offer of a company to play for them in their team, in lieu of some money that they would give to his parents. "Girvi rakh lete wo" , he said in typically Hyderabadi tone.
After wishing them luck, we went on towards gurdwara hoping to get some place to stay that night. Tired we were, and skeptical whether we would get some room or not. But how wrong we were to have even little doubt, a Gurdwara, to me is an eternal place. About 2 years ago, I had stayed in Mysore Gurdwara (with parents) and it had been a pleasant experience too. Enter the premises of the temple, and it feels like home, loads of Punjabis there, although some Sikh guys speaking Kannada seems strange (but such diverse India with these amalgams is lovely to have). After matha-tek at gurdwara, we go to the enquiry office and find a guy who is from Punjab and is too enquiring about rooms (he had already booked). He asks where we are from. On Bhatia's response 'SGNR', he asks Ganganagar vich kithe? (and Bhatia is pumped up to find someone from his home town as if he is reminded of the following lines that lie /*commented */ in the source code of his web.iiit site - 'I was born in a small city, 10km away from the indo-pak border, but now I live in Hyderabad, far far away from my parents, my home, in quest for the knowledge.'
After getting a room, with 4 elegant beds and our tired bodies, Fakka immediately jumps on one of them to grab some sleep after a night-out the day before. But he is persuaded by us to go to the eating joints around gurdwara at around 10 pm. We come back after having a shitty lassi and fall to sleep before we complete some card game we begin with.
In morning, we get up after having a wonderful sleep on those king-size mattresses and take holy dip in the sarovar of gurdwara. Too hesitant to go in 1-piece in front of the lady that is standing besides it. Anyways, we go out (with Fakka in his knickers because his inner thing is too revealing and has been witnessed by many a people). 3-4 dips in the cold water and we were out at langar house to eat and do some sewa. Not many people were having their breakfast, so we were bestowed upon the job of bringing tree twigs and branches to kitchen. So we took 3-4 rounds (Bhatia 5-6 maybe) and finally had our breakfast with chole and roti. The calmness that prevailed around that premises made this trip a spiritual one, no hurry to get back. Stopping at many a roadside joints/dhabas full of truck drivers (many of them from Punjab and Haryana as well) was another part. The close shave me and Fakka had while overtaking a roadways bus from left side was a forgettable experience though. Almost through our entire route, overtaking from left was a norm \FAKKA and BULT/, kaun roke. Finally we reached in the afternoon the next day.
Another thing happened, when fakka went running to the place where his BULT was parked because mofo had been resting on the fort wall for an hour before he realized that keys were missing. In Bhatia's word, if he had not found the keys, he would have found a person distributing 'panjeeri' !!
