My First Bike Accident

(Some of the scenes are imaginary, but mostly true.)

I have just confirmed from the Air deccan that if I have to reschedule my flight from Goa to Bangalore earlier I will have to pay 300 rs. So let go to airport and do it now. It’s also the lunch time. So I can have lunch in Dhaba.

From : mmransin

To : CSF-TEAM

Subject:- OOO for next two hrs for personal work

Why the bag is so light? Oh off course, because there is no laptop in it. I locked it in my cube.
Let me keep my badge inside the bag now itself. I don’t think I need to take it off after this point.
Arey yaar, these girls are so stupid. Why they always have to walk horizontal, blocking the entire staircase? Can’t they walk one after another? Now I have to wait until all these ladies make it to their destination, which must be ground floor.
Dude, where is my bike? I don’t park my bike so long from entrance.
Shit, shit, shit. I didn’t park my bike here today. Damn. I parked it to the other parking place. That means I have to again walk through the office, meaning I have to take out my badge. Damn it.
Aaj sala main dhaba me nahi khaoonga. Aaj Bharati me khate hain. Waise bhi 35 rs me petbhar khana yaha aur kaha milega.
Wah, khana to bahot kha liya. Agar aisehi khate gaya, to sala ek din Eric Kartman nab jaoonga.
Chalo yaar, bike to wahipe hain. Now lets start the bike. Good, it started just in one kick. Phew.
Damn, why these girls wear helmet on scooty. There must be rule to ban wearing helmets for ladies. This girl is having jeans, and her top is so top, that some of the middle section is open. She must be a damn hot girl. Let me imaging further. What if she removes …,
Shit, shit, shit . . .
Yeh kamina rikshawala, if he wanted to stop the rickshaw he could have given some signal. Sala, thode ke liye bach gaya. Otherwise I would have surely crashed the bike on his rickshaw.
Could this have been my first accident? What about that one. On intermediate ring road, I was driving coolly, and suddenly some other biker came so fast from behind, and his bike guard made contact with my leg. For a moment, it feels like my bone is getting cut by a saw. But in next few moments, I found out that it just a hit. It is no fracture. Not a big thing. And the biker, who has hit me, has also gone a long. The only thing I know about him now, is that there was some girl on his bike sitting behind him, and she was wearing tight jeans.
And what about the one on Sarjapur Road? I was going on 60, and on the junction, I saw someone wanted to take turn. I thought the person wanted to take a right turn, and go in the direction same as mine. But turns out that the person wanted to go straight, and didn’t care who else is on the road. Just fortunate enough for me, he with some other man behind his small bike, hit my back wheel. I just loose my balance but didn’t fall off. The other bike fell on ground. If only the vehicles would have interchanged, it could have been me falling on ground.
Damn, this place. So crowdy. I hate this part of journey towards airport. People crossing road like unke baap ka hi hain. Drivers taking turns as if they didn’t do that, it’s the end of the world. And all those buses and trucks racing with each other driving parallel to each other.
Aur sala bike ka front brake bhi thoda loose hain. Aaj hi tight karta hoon.
Damn, this bus driver. Mereko aage jane de yaar. Ye right main already ek car ja rahi hain. Isko left se hi overtake kar leta hoon.
Arey yaar, kya kamine log hain, road ko itna block karke koi car park kartha hain? But may be if I increase my speed, I can overtake this bus, before the car.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, why this bus has turned to right? Can’t he just keep the steering wheel straight? I have to press both the breaks, to stop the bike.
Damn fuck, the there is so much of dust, the bike is skidding. It’s gone out of control. The bike is falling and on the side on bus. The bus is not stopping.
Dhaaaad, what was that? Was that my helmet striking to running bus? Damn, who cares? At this stage, I just know that, I must keep myself away from the bus.
What happened? I must have leaved the bike, and must have jumbled in the air a couple of times, before hitting the ground. Now, I am sitting, helmet on my head, bag on my back. I can see my bike, flat, little distance away from me, its rear wheel still rotating. The bus is now stopped, and I am some safe distance away from the bus.
I can stand, great. Am I alright? Looks that every bone is fine. I can see people gathering around, I can hear their shouting, I can smell the dust on my helmet. It just my right hand, which is giving a little pain.
Where is my bike? Oh, ok. It is just in front of me now. Some part of it, under the bus. Two fellows trying to get it from under the bus. They did it. The key is still hanging on where it should be.
I am really happy about the support of the people. At least 10 must have gathered. I can’t understand what they are saying. Is there some problem with my ears? No, they are speaking in Kannada.
Just a few moments, and it clear that they are not much interested in my well being, but more interesting in cursing the bus driver and if possible beating him. The conductor is standing on the door of the bus, and looking in our direction. The people around are shouting in the direction of bus. Some are chatting with me.
Now I get it. They are waiting for me. They are waiting for me to shout and march towards the driver. They want to beat the shit out of the bus driver. I am now looking in the bus. I see a small kid looking from window, towards me. He must have seen me falling. I can see it in his eyes. Next moment I am looking at the bus conductor, and waving my hand to him, which means “GO”.
The crowd is sparring. I wan to go from this place. I am wearing my helmet.
But some hand snap on the helmet. “Relax for 5 minutes, you must relax”, he is saying. This man is having one of his hands in plaster hanging from his shoulder. He is saying something, but I can’t pay attention. My legs are trembling. I can see that I should stay for some time.
“Water, water”, that same man is asking. I don’t want any water, I just wanted to get the rid of this place, get rid of the staring eyes.
I need to go to some hotel, or to some juice junction, and must drink something. When the people see that I am alright, they will leave me alone.
I am at the grocery shop. He has one fridge, and inside I can see Amul milk.
“Ek Amul milk, strawberry wala”, I ordered.
“You should not have let the driver go.” Damn, the plaster hand man is still behind me. Why he is not leaving me? What the hell he wants? I know what is coming. Few elderly words, which are going to feel me like I am a kid, and need some direction in my life. I hate this. I wanted to get rid of this man.
Is it possible that this man want some money, but for what, for showing pity, condolence? No problem, I am ok, with just a few bruises, I can give him 5 rupees, to thank god for saving me.
I drink the milk much faster than anticipated. May be the mil was not cold, or may be the man beside, is still talking. Now, I am back to my bike. I am carrying the helmet in my hand. I am ready to go. I am wearing the helmet.
“Relax for some more time”. Damn it, what now? Jane de baba mereko. I am saying these things only in mind, from outside, I am not having any words to defend him. What can I do other than watching him and listening to him?
“Bandage, you need bandage”.
Right, “I am going to office; I will do it in my office”. I am ready to give 10 rs to this man.
“No office. Here only”. And he is showing me the way to the nearest medical store. Ok, so when the man makes sure that I am physically good, he will leave me. Fine, I am heading toward the medical store.
“Do bandage dena”.
The shop keeper was busy in handling one other customer. I waited. I was out of the place, where the accident happens. That was enough for me. I am ready to stay here for long.
“………”. Something was said in Kannada. The man is still at my side, and asking the shop keeper to hurry up. Now that I am feeling much better I am listening to him.
“You are lucky. You didn’t get hurt. You didn’t get anything like this”. The last statement is said while showing me the plaster.
“What happened? How you got this?”, finally I accepted that I can’t get rid of this man so easily.
“At night 10, A rikshawala”. He was speaking English like this. Most of the conversation was with the gestures. He was hit by rickshaw at night 10, when nobody was around. Some people even tried to rob him. Only one man gave him help, and made him to hospital.
“Hand gone, shoulder gone”. Though his shoulder seems ok, I trust him. I am really damn lucky, to get out having few bruises. What would have happened, if my shoulder would have been dislocated? Thank god.
“wakratund mahakai, suryakoti, samaprabha.
Nirvighnam kurur me dev. Sarv karyshu sarvada”.
I am giving this man 20 rs.
Now I am having bandage, of 2 bucks. I have decided to go and not to listen to this man anymore. I am not listening to him. Lemme now see if bike is alright.
Looks good, except the helmet stand is broken. No use of it. What else. The left hand side mirror, is swinging in 360 degree angle.
Ok not so bad, I can still drive the bike. I am starting the bike.
Hey but what, something is wrong. The kick starter is not moving smoothly. No God, please, not the starter.
No. it is not the starter, but the stand below the starter. It is not broken but bended, which is not allowing the starter to swing around beyond one point. The helmet stand, the mirror, and now this. The accident can not be said minor.
I kick the stand and make it somewhat straight, at least much to start the bike. I am now driving the bike, one eye on speedometer. Not beyond 40, not for the next two weeks, at least.
Hey, I didn’t given any money to that man. He didn’t ask too. Ends out that he was trying to sympathize me. He was happy that I end up being fine. Or may be not, because he was having a dislocated elbow, and I was fine.
Whose fault is it, this accident? Was it bus drivers? Could be the man who parked the car, or could be the builders who didn’t clear the dust on road? No, it was me only. Only if I could have been a little more careful. Or only if the brakes were a little bit tight. In that case, it was the fault of my servicing center. Only if any one of these factors were proper, this would not have been happened. As I always believe the root of any big incidence is small, almost negligible. What can be the root of this incidence? Was God aware of that, at this time, on the planet of earth on so and so coordinates, a motor bike will skid. Could it have been planned by the almighty God? Why then He intends to make it happen? I am alright. Is this because I am strong, or God actually wants me to survive? Why then God want .. ..
Damn Fuck, No way. No fucking way. Unbelievably hot babe! Why the hell she is on that bike? Why not on my bike? Maine kisika kya bigada hain? She is wearing a sleeveless top, and tight jeans. Only if her jeans would have been a little bit . . . . .