cooksinindia

cooksinindia
Bike riding here is (rather, could be) a sport unto its self. In fact, I was thinking a fun event would be the "Delhi 50" The idea is this: Each contestant pays fifty bucks for a brand new Avon Premium Gold bicycle. You’d have thirty minutes to tighten things up...fill the tires, make sure the chain's not going to jump off. Then, given a standardized map of Delhi, race on a prescribed route, in which you must verify various stops. Fifty Km. Probably a staggered start. The thing that appeals to me is the element of chance. And the myriad choices one can make to get from A to B. God in the machine. Once you hit the streets, anything can happen. And sometimes the slowest guy out there is magically ushered through the maze unscathed. End of the race, you keep the bike. Kind of a twist on the t-shirt or cap thing. Just a thought.
You'll be pleased to hear I'm not the slowest guy out there. On the contrary- I’m regarded with a mixture of humor and curiosity. People honk and wave. Guys riding on the backs of trucks, or auto rickshaw guys (who happen to be notoriously independent and competitive) will give me a smile. A nod and a wave. Especially if I'm feeling my oats and knocking down the kms. And here's something else: I'd come to believe the Indian mindset was one of peaceful contentment. A place of tranquility, in which one observes the unfolding of life and understands intuitively one's place in the scheme. And is happy to let it be. Then, just last week, I was riding to school, and overtook a fellow biker who had a basket of newspapers to deliver. I'll put him in his mid-twenties. Well. Not two minutes after I passed him, he comes into my side vision, looking cool...unconcerned. And me, for my part, am not going to show my interest. So I kind of gave him the surreptitious once-over. I gave him maybe ten meters before kicking it in gear and passing his skinny ass. Again, very cool. No eye contact. This went on for a good three kilometers. Back and forth. I felt a bit of a loss when he finally turned off. This, of course, has given rise to more such encounters, though not of the duration as the first. The spoken word represents but a sliver of the spectrum of communication. OK. I'm going to sign off. Today is Diwali, and I'm heading out with Rashmi's husband (Anil) to visit his folks and various family members. Should be an adventure. I'll keep you posted.