Year 1999:
Somewhere in Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh.
India had experienced some finest moments in Services Industry, Infosys was on the advent of touching a billion dollar revenue, Y2K euphoria had started to build upon, adolescence was about to explore out mall culture, Shahid Afridi was still celebrating his 18th birthday, Ganguly had yet not taken over the reins of captaincy from our little Master, Twenty20 was not even a concept, BJP had smacked lot of asses around,Indian Army was too was smacking lots of asses...rather screwing. Indian automobile industry was witnessing a revelation......A change....
Unaware I stood as thin as a scarecrow, Story about me.... How I became JACK-ASS !!!
India had just found their love for bikes. Scooters were on the edge of an oblivion, and there stood my dad's Bajaj Super. Humaara Bajaj.
I was fascinated by the whole aura this scooter carried. I grew by it, nothing better than was the sight of my dad tilting it to an angle of 60 degrees sideways before start, hopping up and down to kick and there it starts. Race for a while before you zoom on to it. There was a desire to one day start my dad's scooter and take over those reins just like Ganguly. Yeah yeah... I still didn't know how to drive a scooter. A self proclaimed fear had engrossed me.
Watching my other friends around driving their dads' scooters disgusted me, that too a Bajaj Super. "Dude, how could you not drive a bajaj super ? Its the finest", Tunnu said. (God I wish he scores a dud in Maths.... 2 years later he did scrore a zero in boards). I stood as stone faced as Deepika Padukone in Dum Maaro Dum song. "Arrey itna bhi koi challanging nahi hai....bas race taan dene ka !! ". Waseem said boastingly. (His Dad owned Bajaj Cub, जिसे ये शेर की तरह लखनऊ की सड़कों पे दौडाता था !).
Finally, I gathered my guts, getting into my red boxers, deceitfully taking the keys of Humaara Bajaj took the prized possession of the super. I almost dragged the scooter 500 meters, until I was sure I'm out of of Dad's reach. Chittu was waiting, he took this as a great oppurtunity to boast of his teaching skills. Final prayers made, I could hear Shaktiman saying in my ears, dude you are screwed !!!. I can hear Chittu saying "Yes, we can !!!".
Intricacies explained, Tilting done just the way I had watched uncles around had done. I kicked, nopes It didn't start. One , two and three, still no luck.....I could see passerby smiling. An uncle commented out, "अच्छा नया नया सीख रहे हो, हे हे हे ! " (Darn you this was getting obnoxious, he still reminds me of Sidhu popping idioms). Chittu pitches in...... BRRRRRRRRRR. There it starts just like the smooth Coke ad.
Chittu hops in. Off we go.......Hurray I'm driving this. Here I'm, this is me..... I could well see a Chandrachur singh within me. Then suddenly something unexpected happened.... A bull/cow DAMN...... All I could see was a black bull/cow (I can't figure out which one of that. Chittu says it was a goat). I can't hear anything. I can't feel anything.Someone shouts "Brake.... you donkey... $%^%&^&^ अबे ब्रेक लगा !!!" . I lift my hand in the air try to reach out to the brakes down....what the f@#$ !!! .
Too late !!! Humaara Bajaj, Chittu and I were seen in a drainage. BLEED BLACK !!! Ahh its 11 out here time to go. Long story cut short.....
1. The back kicks gave me sore foot. I limped for almost 2 weeks.
2. Chittu gets bruised and bandaged, I happened to get bandaged in after repercussions (For each dent.... My dad dented me equally).
3. "गधा है ये !!". I made you proud dad.
That was just the start. Humaara bajaj and I never looked backed from there. My dad later followed the suit and bought a bike. I got humaara bajaj ! It stood tall in the ravages in years to come by..... Some damn guy later stole his stand. By the time it was sold, all that was left was an engine and a seat. It fetched my Dad 1500 bucks. My dad was as happy as ever smiling Uday Chopra.
Humaara Bajaj is no more with us. Later, 'Buland bharat ki nayee tasveer' was replaced by none other than fast zooming energy efficient bikes.
I finally managed to learn driving in 2001. Thats story for another day....Waseem crashed landed on an overbridge and that day I knew I was a sadist. Chittu never pursued maths, never gave a driving lesson and never piggy backed on my scooter.
And thats how I became JACK-ASS.
Somewhere in Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh.
India had experienced some finest moments in Services Industry, Infosys was on the advent of touching a billion dollar revenue, Y2K euphoria had started to build upon, adolescence was about to explore out mall culture, Shahid Afridi was still celebrating his 18th birthday, Ganguly had yet not taken over the reins of captaincy from our little Master, Twenty20 was not even a concept, BJP had smacked lot of asses around,Indian Army was too was smacking lots of asses...rather screwing. Indian automobile industry was witnessing a revelation......A change....
Unaware I stood as thin as a scarecrow, Story about me.... How I became JACK-ASS !!!
India had just found their love for bikes. Scooters were on the edge of an oblivion, and there stood my dad's Bajaj Super. Humaara Bajaj.
I was fascinated by the whole aura this scooter carried. I grew by it, nothing better than was the sight of my dad tilting it to an angle of 60 degrees sideways before start, hopping up and down to kick and there it starts. Race for a while before you zoom on to it. There was a desire to one day start my dad's scooter and take over those reins just like Ganguly. Yeah yeah... I still didn't know how to drive a scooter. A self proclaimed fear had engrossed me.
Watching my other friends around driving their dads' scooters disgusted me, that too a Bajaj Super. "Dude, how could you not drive a bajaj super ? Its the finest", Tunnu said. (God I wish he scores a dud in Maths.... 2 years later he did scrore a zero in boards). I stood as stone faced as Deepika Padukone in Dum Maaro Dum song. "Arrey itna bhi koi challanging nahi hai....bas race taan dene ka !! ". Waseem said boastingly. (His Dad owned Bajaj Cub, जिसे ये शेर की तरह लखनऊ की सड़कों पे दौडाता था !).
Finally, I gathered my guts, getting into my red boxers, deceitfully taking the keys of Humaara Bajaj took the prized possession of the super. I almost dragged the scooter 500 meters, until I was sure I'm out of of Dad's reach. Chittu was waiting, he took this as a great oppurtunity to boast of his teaching skills. Final prayers made, I could hear Shaktiman saying in my ears, dude you are screwed !!!. I can hear Chittu saying "Yes, we can !!!".
Intricacies explained, Tilting done just the way I had watched uncles around had done. I kicked, nopes It didn't start. One , two and three, still no luck.....I could see passerby smiling. An uncle commented out, "अच्छा नया नया सीख रहे हो, हे हे हे ! " (Darn you this was getting obnoxious, he still reminds me of Sidhu popping idioms). Chittu pitches in...... BRRRRRRRRRR. There it starts just like the smooth Coke ad.
Chittu hops in. Off we go.......Hurray I'm driving this. Here I'm, this is me..... I could well see a Chandrachur singh within me. Then suddenly something unexpected happened.... A bull/cow DAMN...... All I could see was a black bull/cow (I can't figure out which one of that. Chittu says it was a goat). I can't hear anything. I can't feel anything.Someone shouts "Brake.... you donkey... $%^%&^&^ अबे ब्रेक लगा !!!" . I lift my hand in the air try to reach out to the brakes down....what the f@#$ !!! .
Too late !!! Humaara Bajaj, Chittu and I were seen in a drainage. BLEED BLACK !!! Ahh its 11 out here time to go. Long story cut short.....
1. The back kicks gave me sore foot. I limped for almost 2 weeks.
2. Chittu gets bruised and bandaged, I happened to get bandaged in after repercussions (For each dent.... My dad dented me equally).
3. "गधा है ये !!". I made you proud dad.
That was just the start. Humaara bajaj and I never looked backed from there. My dad later followed the suit and bought a bike. I got humaara bajaj ! It stood tall in the ravages in years to come by..... Some damn guy later stole his stand. By the time it was sold, all that was left was an engine and a seat. It fetched my Dad 1500 bucks. My dad was as happy as ever smiling Uday Chopra.
Humaara Bajaj is no more with us. Later, 'Buland bharat ki nayee tasveer' was replaced by none other than fast zooming energy efficient bikes.
I finally managed to learn driving in 2001. Thats story for another day....Waseem crashed landed on an overbridge and that day I knew I was a sadist. Chittu never pursued maths, never gave a driving lesson and never piggy backed on my scooter.
And thats how I became JACK-ASS.
You've got an awsome n truely unique narrative style bro!! Rib tickling and fressssh!! Agli entry kab likh rhe ho??
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