Mumbai to Kasara – bike away!

I was but a school girl when I first had this dream. Little did I know then, that it would be several years before it would be fulfilled. Of course in the interim, I did nothing to make it come true. I did not chase it, in fact for several years I did not even think of it. I got busy with life – getting an education, a job, getting married and having children. But I guess, there it was, lurking somewhere at the back of my head.

Meeting Sunita was one of the best things that happened in my life. We both have a sense of adventure, we both want to move out of our comfort zones and seek out challenges in life. We share dreams, passions and goals. Things which had been pushed away to the recesses of my mind suddenly seemed possible. The moment I told her that I harboured a dream of cycling from one city to another, she jumped at it. I finally had company! For 2-3 years we tried to work on the logistics – it did not seem feasible for just the 2 of us to hop on our bikes and set
off to another city. In the meantime, I had my 2^nd baby which further delayed the likelihood of intercity biking.

But as they say, when things are meant to be, they do happen. Here I was, just having had a baby - I was not at my fittest best, logistics were nightmarish – Neeraj, my husband was travelling a lot, my maid had quit and I had a 1 yr old baby to manage. But a couple of my colleagues shared our enthusiasm and a plan was hatched.

We set off at about 5.30 am from Kalina, one Saturday morning. The week prior had seen a flurry of activity as we serviced our bikes, bought necessary accessories, organized a support tempo, spare bikes, puncture repair kit, bought water, energy bars, Gatorade, dates and raisins, the works. Our plan was to cycle approximately 120 km to Kasara. It was a straight wide flat road. How mistaken we were! Driving a distance in a car is always deceptive, I have now discovered the hard way. The real topography of any land can be correctly established only if you walk, run or cycle up.

It was dark, there was a nip in the air and spirits were high. As our tyres crunched along the roads, we knew that as the day progressed, it would get tougher and tougher. We had to capitalize on the good weather. We made good time in the morning. After a stop over at Sion to load the tempo, we were at Thane at 7 am and Bhiwandi at 8 am. The magnificent sun was playing peek-a-boo through the buildings. I was feeling so cheerful and upbeat that I was even singing along. Having biked long distances earlier, I knew that the buoyant feeling diminishes as the weary hours pass.

At Kalyan we were met by a surprise visitor who welcomed us to Kalyan in the most humorously filmy way - with garlands! This provided us with a good break and we stopped for some chasing and forced garlanding, a hearty laugh, and some stretching. The day was still going good!

We were ravenous. Sunita my foodie friend had begun her grumblings “When are we gonna have breakfast? Where are we gonna have breakfast?” Vikrant the new entrant to the biking gang told us that Shangrila was the place for breakfast, just 3-4 kms away. We biked and biked and biked, for a suspiciously long time with no signs of Shangrila. I could see the tips of Sunita’s ears turning red and knew Vikrant was in danger for bullshitting. 7 kms of biking and Shangrila arrived, and we arrived angry and hungry! Vikrant’s logic was 3-4 kms away meant 3+4 kms away! Yeah dude, we buy that!

Idlis, dosas, juice disappeared in no time. The guys were raring to go. I had just called them “slow motion” for riding slower than the girls! Nothing can provoke a guy more than teasing his fragile male ego. Vikrant jumped on his bike and raced away before I could say “Mississippi” and I did not see him for most part of the day. He was busy proving that he was stronger, faster and better than the girls, you see. Incidentally, that was something I anyway knew but it was rather amusing to see him out to prove his manhood with such earnestness and vengeance.

We crossed Shahapur after noon. The metaphysical Armageddon within me had begun. “Why was I doing this?” This question always plagues me when my physical strength is sapped. We had been cycling for over 6 hours. There was not a tree in sight and therefore no shade. It just looked like a long endless hot road to nowhere. My right knee, ironically my Achilles heel, had begun throbbing. With every pedal rotation, my knee felt like it would give way in severe pain. So my left leg had begun to work harder to ease the pressure on the right knee. I knew before long, my left leg would give up too.

Raja another biker, was struggling. He had developed severe cramps. The thumb rule in such arduous expeditions is – “Drink water before you are thirsty, eat before you are hungry.” He had ignored the water rule. Once cramps attack, you undergo unimaginable pain. We could see that it was sheer will power that was helping him along. But for how long could he suffer this torture?

Sunita and Puneet had stopped at a little shack for water replenishments. Puneet’s back had begun troubling him. His back, like my knee, was a chink in his armour.  We drank lots of Gatorade and munched on cashews and dates. Puneet was stretching and resting his back. While stationary, I didn’t seem to have any problems. Sunita and I chirped as though we had met one pleasant evening at the park. There’s no stopping 2 girls from chit chatting, even if they had cycled 100 kms in blistering heat. We both decided to set off, as we were dying to get it over with. Kasara was only about 25 kms away! Phew.

The next milestone showed Kasara only 17 kms away. That’s the weird thing with our milestones, they are completely unreliable. You just never know exactly how far you are from your destination. One of the milestones, right at the beginning of our journey showed Nasik at a mere 43 kms!! Another one showed Shahapur at 20 kms and within a couple of kms, Shahapur seemed to have moved further away and was now strangely 25 kms away. It’s quite bizarre. When you are cycling in the scorching sun, hungry and thirsty, with aching muscles, you just want to kick all the milestones and the apathetic people responsible for maintaining them.

We cycled for some time, and out of the blue, there appeared another milestone which stated that Kasara was only 10 kms away. We had certainly not biked 7 kms. So there you have it – another example of the erroneous milestones on Indian highways. Anyway, this time we were ecstatic with the flawed milestone. “Dilli ab door nahi” we said in chorus! It added a new vigor to our adventure. Sunita went ahead with great gusto and seeing her dash off I knew I would now meet her only at the finish line.

The last 10 kms were gruelling, to say the least. The end was so near and yet so far. I just wanted to get there where I knew Raja’s Audi X5 was waiting for me to get us back to Mumbai. Heavy vehicles were speeding past me. And my progress seemed agonizingly slow. The road snaking ahead was a continuous gradient. In fact, the entire stretch out of Mumbai till Kasara is a gradual ascent. It was very daunting to see the uphill road stretch ahead eternally. My lips were running dry and I was starving. Gautam halted for a sip of water and I joined him. Our water stock was nearly over. We had a couple of sips each, saving a little bit for later. I pulled out my energy bar and we both split it and ate it hungrily, realizing that we were famished. Resources were running low and I was at the end of my tether, the only consolation being that Kasara was just about 7 kms away. I set off on the encouraging words, “C’mon just a little to go. The elephant’s through, only the tail is left”. As he said that, Gautam smiled knowingly at me as only a co-biker who has experienced the same pain and agony, can.

The last km was bittersweet. All along the last few kms, Gautam had been fooling me, “beyond this turn is the end”. Several turns came and went, but no end in sight. I had cursed him enough to last him a life time. And suddenly there it was, the end! I turned a bend and unexpectedly reached where I had been aiming to reach since the last 10 hours. It was 3.30 pm and a 120 kms, as I biked down the slope, punching the air with my fists as everyone, including the tempo driver and his assistant, clapped and cheered for me. As I got off the bike and hugged Sunita, I announced loudly, “The next time I make a stupid plan like this, somebody please slap me hard.” As we all laughed in relief, triumph, pride and joy I knew yet again, why I did this to myself over and over again! And yes, I am ready to be slapped cos the next plan is already half way hatched in my mind. But for now it was time to forget everything and celebrate!

Middle Age and all that Jazz

As my birthday approaches each year, my heart fills with trepidation. Why does it have to appear so quickly every year? Not so long ago, birthdays were the most thrilling part of my life. Birthdays meant exciting stuff like gifts, friends, party, cake, the works. But now? The only thing it means is one more year added to that dreaded thing called age! And being subjected to lots of age-related jokes!

I think to myself - so what, if I’m on the wrong side of 30, I still feel young and alive! Yeah, I have a few silver strands. Yeah, when I smile at myself in the mirror I can see hints of crow’s feet . And yeah, I just can’t lose those stubborn kilos, but I say, BIG DEAL!!!

Nevertheless, here’s the truth - no matter how much I behave like an ostrich and rebel against my age, the fact is that I am advancing in years and quite rapidly so. And the more I look around, the more I see the same “I am so damn young and cool” attitude in all my similar-in-age friends. We are all in denial. Being privy to this “compulsion to be juvenile” phenomenon among my contemporaries, I have compiled “Roopa’s list of tell-tale signs of middle-age.” Here goes…

• You never give a straight answer when you are asked a simple question, “How old are you?” Your smart-alecky answer varies from “I am as young as I look” or “Never ask a man his wage and a woman her age” or “Take a guess” and smile mysteriously. Or sexily, depending on who has asked the question.
• You talk a great deal about sex and one’s sexual appetite, stamina, prowess, pursuits and conquests even if most of it is bullshit. TALKING is the key here!
• You tap your pot belly and say, “Ahhh sign of prosperity!” Well, I say, where’s the money, honey? Is your extended waistline the only sign of your prosperity?
• You have the hots for nubile youngsters and believe that they want mature, experienced lovers such as yourself cos you can teach them a thing or two.
• You make comments like “I must have an affair now!”, “I will sleep with the next hot-bod I see”. (Youngsters often do but don’t feel the need to make announcements)
• You wear outrageously short clingy / cleavage-revealing numbers even when your figure is not exactly to-die-for! And teaming it up with uncomfortable stilettos. And what’s with all that make-up! Girl, simple shorts and chappals would have been just fine.
• You discuss hair transplants, Botox, and tummy tucks.
• You keep checking the mirror to see how many silver strands you have, how much your hairline has receded or how wonderfully flat your stomach looks if you hold your breath.
• You may have developed a weakness / craving for sweets / chocolates / desserts. When invited for dinner, the dessert may interest you more than the main course.
• You look at children and say with surprise, “Oh my god how much she / he’s grown!”
• You use strange language like “yo”, “s’up” and “muaaah” which you may have heard teenagers using.
• You have trouble understanding status updates / comments / text messages of teenagers and need to find out what rofl, lmao, np, OMG, lol etc mean.
• Huge hunks double your size address you as “aunty” or “uncle”.
• You are sensitive to age related jokes, information and articles and therefore have been going through this list and making mental ticks and crosses. Then my dear, you most certainly are middle-aged.

But c’mon there’s no need to fret. Everyone’s gonna get there sooner or later. It’s only that you wish to reach it later rather than sooner. In any case, age is after all just a number. So chin up and be like Sophia Loren who at 75 said, “I am still waiting to grow up!”