Why so serious?

“Why so serious?” He sticks the blade in my mouth… “Let’s put a smile on that face!” And…

-          The Joker in the movie “The Dark Knight” (2008)

If we have to narrate a modern day fairy tale, it would run on these lines: He studied hard, scored good marks, gained some experience, got himself a beautiful wife, earned himself a job in his dream company – one of the top corporate magnates. And he lived happily ever after.

Reality check: We see these corporate bees buzzing everywhere – in airports, restaurants, swarming through city traffic, Coffee shops… We can see them pouring over their laptops, talking frantically into their phones, jotting stuff into their notepads, drowned in a serious debate with their colleagues… Now give them a second look: what’s common among all of them? There’s one thing missing in almost all the faces. The look of content. The smile of satisfaction. They are all looking tensed – as if they are walking through this like in bonded labour, like this is not the situation they would love to dwell in given a choice, like they are just caught in this black hole & have nowhere to go but to get sucked. In short there is no bliss visible in any of their faces – well, atleast most of them; these days they are used to wearing their plastic smiles the moment they get out of bed.

What does that lead us to believe? That corporate world is a maze of tension? That you got in there and you’ve lost your peace of mind? That you’ve forgotten how to flash a genuine smile?

Is this the example we want to set to the outsiders on how the corporate world works?

Is it a pre-requisite of the corporate world to wear such serious looks and stay under tremendous tension? Have we lost the way somewhere along?

Why are we tensed in the first place? The work on hand is not getting completed. The market is not favourable. The competition is getting stronger. Our colleague did not deliver upon the promise he made us. Our colleague is enjoying more than we are. We are losing out in the rat race. We are getting scolded on behalf of the firm you are working for. The customers have become more demanding & we have no option but to bend to their whims & fancies. The salary hikes are not happening the way we expected. The inflation curve is soaring much higher than the increment curve. We are not getting the much desired 30 hrs work day. We are unable to strike a work-life balance. We are unable to pursue our passions.

Now how many of these get resolved by our getting tensed? How many of these are totally under our control? Can we really do something about it? Are we trying to prove to some imaginary onlooker that we really care for what’s happening and giving a false assurance that we can take charge of something we have absolutely no control on?

Let’s face it. We, as humanity, are a tiny spec in this vast expanse of Milky Way, which in itself is a tiny spec among millions of other galaxies of its kind that constitute the universe. Now you and I are just one among the 6.5 billion other human beings within the tiny spec called earth. If we get this perspective right, we should be able to start accepting that the amount of control we can exert on our surroundings is infinitesimally small. In this arrangement of things, every human being feeling that he is a big creature striving to take charge of all the happenings around him… the path to chaos is laid.

We agree to take up responsibilities which are humanely impossible to accomplish, just for the sake of looking good before others. We wear masks that hide our true emotions, lest others feel that we are incapable. We say things that others want to hear, as we feel truth is a bitter pill which is not good to offer. We do things to gain temporary admiration & happiness, deliberately ignoring the repercussions. And when things start slipping out of our hands, we frantically look around for reasons to justify that this was bound to happen in spite of our herculean efforts. When we don’t find a fair justification, we try and throw the blame on others.

Anything that goes against the natural flow of things ends up in a mess. No wonder we end up entangled in a maze of confusion, stress, restlessness… No wonder our family gets the brunt of our office garbage… No wonder involuntarily the body responds with hormonal changes leading us to impulsive eating, compulsive smoking, habitual drinking… No wonder we end up with pot bellies, erratic blood pressures, hypertension and sugar problems… No wonder we get used to carrying pouch full of pills & powders… And only then we realize it’s time to slow down. Pause. Introspect. And resort to healthy eating, workouts and meditation. Sometimes the realization come a tad too late. Sometimes it fails to come.

It’s best to one preaching of the corporate world today: Gone are the days when you got a chance to make a mistake and learn from it. These days, you got to learn from others mistakes.

Sunday date with Ms.Lavasa

The plan was made well in advance, on my cycling trip to Sinhagad. I was searching the map and Lavasa caught my eye. Well, anything which shows green on the map draws my attention cos it means a green belt. And cycling in greenery can be fun.

I zeroed in on this Sunday. I had fine-tuned the brakes, oiled the chain and adjusted the seat so as to make the ride comfortable and eventless.

The plan was simple: Start before sun-rise. Reach Lavasa for breakfast. See whatever is there to be seen. Return home for lunch. Take rest for half a day. Be fit and fine for the week.

Unfortunately was chatting with Suzie till late in the night and could hit the sack only by 1.30. I couldn’t wake up before 6.30 and I was geared up and out by 7. While Sandeep Maheshwari’s lecture on Law of attraction v/s Law of love running in my earphones, Microsoft’s HERE maps was giving me directions. Once out of the city I switched off the maps and GPS so as to save the battery for pics n music later in the ride.

I met Jyoti, with whom I had cycled to Lonavala couple of months ago, on the way. She rode with me for about 5 kms before she stopped and decided to return. That was sad. Company on long rides are not only fun, but essential to keep the spirits up when you hit the wall.

For the next one hour I just rode – the weather was pleasant, roads were more or less flat, the lecture was giving lot of motivation… When I noticed that there were no milestones reading “Lavasa” I stopped to ask a shop-keeper. It was shock when he said that I had to take a deviation 20 kms earlier to go towards Lavasa.

I started the map just to ascertain that I was not being conned. I wasn’t. I had 2 options, go back 20 kms and then ride on to Lavasa. Or I could ride 20 kms ahead to a waterbody, which my map told was Mulshi reservoir.

I chose the second option.

As I rode on, I could see lots of people overtaking me on bikes and cars, most of them couples. I decided that when the time comes, I’ll be riding here with Suzie.

Mom called when I just spotted the water in a distance. The conversation that ensued can be summarized something like this:

“Where are you?”

“Riding to Lavasa”

“When will you be back?”

“By lunch-time”

“Is it a proper road?”

“Of course, full of tourists.”

“Don’t go to lonely areas or jungles”

“Sure”

I had some corn and onion pakoda at a small petty shop. After 60 kms of riding, this simple breakfast tasted heavenly. The maps told me that if I go 15 kms more I would hit a small path leading to Lavasa. On cross-checking with the shop-keeper, I understood that there was indeed a path, but it was not a proper road. It was under construction and leads through hills and forests.

“Just what I needed”, I beamed and registered a mental apology to Mom.

I took the cycle off the road towards the lake. After resting for a while in the cool breeze, I hit the road again.

The next 15 kms had intermittent drizzles. As long as it was not too heavy, I would enjoy the way it kept me fresh…

When I reached Tamhini, I realized what the shop-keeper meant by “under construction”. There was a weather beaten road, complete with pebbles, potholes and boulders disappearing into the hills. It didn’t deter me. I rode on. After some distance, the path was too steep and the terrain too rough to cycle even for a mountain bike; and mine was only a hybrid. So I began pushing…

Little did I realize that this exercise was to repeat several more times during the day.

The hilly stretch between Tamhini and Lavasa was arguably the best ride of my life. Deserted, green, hilly, drizzle, calm, selfies… it was a perfect concoction for adventure. I had my share of speeding downhill, passing through tribal villages, crouching under trunks when it rained heavily… Somehow I made it to Lavasa. For those who want to try it out, this particular stretch of road does not figure on Google maps.

I expected love at first site with Ms.Lavasa. But first sight was a disappointment; I was entering from the wrong side of Lavasa and all I could see was lots of construction work and a dry river. As I rode further I could spot the real Lavasa, the so called modern smart city. To put it in one sentence, Lavasa is just a small township built around a river on the lines of Italian architecture. There were loads of eateries and games for kids and families. I decided that when the time comes, I’d spend few weekends in here. 

After a quick Biriyani, I shopped at Mapro’s for a variety of fruit chews and Crush. This was a mistake – it added some 4 kgs to my backpack (which is quite a lot on such rides) and I had no idea what was waiting for me…

I had done some 90 kms since morning. Stomach full, body relaxed, I decided to start on the last 70 kms home. I asked a passer-by, “Which way is Pune?” He pointed and said, “But you can’t go on cycle. It’s steep uphill.” I had no choice. I had to reach home for the night, so as to be in office the next morning.

For the next 2 hrs, I just pushed the cycle up the hill. It looked never ending, as I could see the road snaking its way up the hills and into the clouds. To make things worse, there were these couples zipping up n down the hill on bikes. It was 6.30 in the evening when I reached the summit, fully drained. I stopped to click a pic at “Welcome to Lavasa”. I could barely force a smile.

Once up the hill, I got a steep downhill descend for 5-6 kms. I just zipped past all those bikes and cars, a childish avenging gesture, after they had climbed past me up the hill. I trusted my repair skills on the effectivity of the brakes, cos one failure on the brakes would send me flying off the hill into the inviting but deadly dam below...

The ordeal was far from over. Pune was still 50 kms away and as I went on, I encountered 3 more hills to be scaled. I guess I must have hiked some 30 kms, pushing the cycle along in the whole day, apart from over 130 kms of cycling. My thighs were crying for mercy and my shoulders felt like it was carrying the earth like Atlas.

I stopped for a mango milkshake just at the outskirts of the city. That was refreshing. But the last 15 kms through the city to reach home was on pure zombie mode – I was just mechanically pedalling devoid of any kind of emotions or feelings. All I wanted to was to reach home and crash on my bed.

By the time I did that it was 9.30 in the night.

The last thing I remember before dropping into a trance like a corpse was making a rule: No more long rides alone. I have to hunt for company now.

Bollywood Blues

Our wild estimates on the depth of our connections with Bollywood would most certainly be far from reality. Involuntarily we have grown up getting heavily influenced by the multi-billion dollar show world. We wouldn’t be very wrong if we conclude that most of our personality has been shaped by filmdom.

Let’s begin with our kids: With formal training or not, the next generation of kids appear to be born singers. The songs are usually the chartbusters of that month. We all know about the immense grasping power of children. Feed them with any kind of stimuli, it just sinks into them. And exposure to Bollywood has never been more easy & full-fledged; what with the 24 hrs movie channels, posters all across the city & also on the public transport, newspapers offering reviews, timings, advertisements, interviews related to Bollywood… Mostchildren exposed to Bollywood in the early years (3-5 yrs) talk flawless Hindi without the parents even contributing! Of course there is the current sensation: Mr.Yo Yo Honey Singh whose lyrics always linger around pubs, party, daaru and vodka… A very clear invitation for the teenagers – who adore his tunes. (Yes Sir! He has a fan following!)

From singing to dancing. Here we are not limiting to kids. Whatever little dance we display, be it just swaying of arms or gyrating butt in the bathroom & pub (those are the safest places to save yourself from the embarrassment) is learnt thanks to the choreography of Bollywood. The flow of dance steps is easier with couple of pegs down the throat. The supple among us try to ape Prabhu deva, Hrithik Roshan, Shahid Kapoor or the latest sensation Lauren Gottlieb, while the josh walas are more into Govinda. There are the high inertia ones who settle for Sunny Deol or Big B. Well, the ladies are at a disadvantage – the dancing standards are quite high among heroines (it’s a question of survival; cos most heroines survive on dance & glam quotient)

Our fighting skills – both verbal & physical – are somewhat polished by filmdom. These days we come up with out of the world logic to counter someone. And what better way to pick up abuses than the movies? Also without wearing any of the colourful belts, we know the nuances of martial arts and can faintly dodge any onslaught, without letting the attacker get away with whatever he / she intended to…

The dialogues, oh my god! If only words could kill, Indian population would be less than half of the current billion. While some lines have a short shelf life, other lines, perhaps from Mr.Bacchhan or Rajani sir, are always greeted with whistles & claps. Some of these dialogues have attained immorality. Try the variety: “Tera kya hoga Kaalia”, “Maine ek baar commit kardi, toh khud ke bhi nahi sunto..”, “bade bade deshon main aisi choti choti baath hote rehte hai”, “Don ko pakadna mushkil hi nahi namumkin hai”, “… aap purush hi nahi… maha purush ho, maha purush”,  “Dosti ka usool hai madam, no sorry, no thank you”… These dialogues, apart from teaching us pick-up lines & humorous one-liners, often give us a moral to get enlightened & to live by.

Style. The single main source of styling ideas are the movies. The tiny patch of beard below the lips in Dil Chahta hai became a rage and still is. Ajay Devgan’s mush in Gangajal or Once upon a time in Mumbai, the C-O-O-L chain of Shah rukh in Kuch Kuch hota hai were all short term fashion statements. It’s lot more intense among girls. We see frocks & chudidaars named after movies selling like hot cakes in garment shops. The hairdos, the colour combinations, shape of blouse, design of kurtis are just some of the items inspired by films. Some husbands may have got furious after the behavioural changes in their wives after watching Sonam Kapoor splurge in Aisha. If only girls could ape size-zero or the perfect hourglass figures…

In a country where love & love-making is not a popular topic of group discussion, the best tutor for these are the movies. In the past couple of decades falling in love has become a mandate among teens or those in early twenties. So much that if you don’t flaunt a girlfriend or a boyfriend, you are looked upon as an alien and slowly you sink into a complex. Who else can teach us how to patafy a girl, flirting skills, flowery talks, chivalrous gestures… not just the skills, the intent & the courage required for falling in love & standing for it, against all odds, is also drawn from the movie powerhouse. So what if there are a few who are into bhaag ke shaadi karna mode? All is fair in love & war.

That said, lovers have actually started going against all odds to make their love stories successful – and why not? When the movie stars can do it, why can’t we? Where they fail is when they don’t get to see much on what happens after marriage (most Bollywood movies end when the boy & girl have run their marathon and tied the sacred knot…) or are they trying to ape their idol’s off-screen life? If Aamir Khan & Hrithik Roshan can get out of wedlock, why can’t we?

We can go on and on correlating our lives to Bollywood. Ultimately the take away is that life as portrayed in the movies is not always close to reality. Like Morpheus says “The Matrix is a computer-generated dream world built to keep us under control in order to change a human being into this...” Although there are the likes of Anurag kashyap & sometimes Ram Gopal Verma who try to show real life on screen, most screen stories are predominantly fictitious and made larger than life with a sole purpose of entertaining the audience (& reap the harvest out of the box-office in the process). It’s totally up to us to choose what is good for us, what inspires us, what can be adopted & then shun aside the unwanted stuff… If we do not want to get into that kind of dilemma, we may as well just sit back, relax, pop a corn & enjoy the offering.

Time Tales

“I want to do blah-blah-blah, but I don’t find time.”

“So much to do, so less time.”

“I wish I had 48 hrs in a day.”

Have you heard these on a daily basis? If not, listen to yourself.

Let’s face it. We were all born into 24 hr days. Now how we use it is totally our prerogative. If we are blaming someone or circumstances for stealing time from us, then we better put our life under the microscope.

One need not go to a time-management course and study Stephen Covey’s 4 quadrants of time nor download & maintain a time-log app to spot the pilferage of our time. Just a simple question asked constantly to ourselves will do the trick: “Is this the best way to live my next one hour?”

Let’s introspect this: We get plenty of time to read & forward Whatsapp messages? We don’t miss out updating our status (usually pictorially) on FB. We take the liberty of naming those 15 min breaks for a smoke & gossip as stress busters. We love to oversleep and console ourselves that sleep is an important member of our daily schedule. We let our fingers frantically tap (or is it swipe these days?) the smartphone well into the dark hours, flirting with girlfriends. We also spend hours calling up friends to bitch about the horrible boss and the screwed up work life. We spend weekends loafing around the malls or cooling heels in the multiplex. We go on long blind drives and call it the liberation of self. We pour over our computers figuring out which movie is hitting the 100 cr mark & who is dating whom these days. Oh yeah, we also day dream for eternity & silently pass it of as meditation or self-time.

Now get out of your body. Stand back and watch your body go through the routine of life. Is it spending time the way it is to be spent or is it just flowing along the river of life? Just running the rat race not knowing what we are running from nor what we are running towards? Is there really work to do or are we acting busy to please our bosses, or for showing off at home? Are the chats & Skype calls productive or is it just being used cos it’s there. Are we browsing & downloading crap just because the wi-fi is free? Have we fallen blindly in love with being busy? Are we getting uneasy when we have to just sit in one place doing nothing: our hands crave for the phone? Our lips twitch to start a conversation? Our eyes search for cues? Our minds race towards wild thoughts?

Have we side-lined relationships in the pretext of time crunch?

Are we embracing restlessness?

Have we ceased to live in the moment?

Are we slowly getting sucked into the black hole of busyness?

Remember: black hole is a one way ticket…and so is the ticking time.

We - the people

Anything… Anything… Anything for money

Would lie for you

Would die for you

Even sell my soul to the devil

-          Michael Jackson in “Money” from History: Past, Present & Future (1995)

We prefer movies to books. We spend weekends in malls & cinemas rather than the study. We loathe love stories… we love violence. We love brutality. We love blood & gore. We love vulgarity. We look forward to obscenity & seduction. We ogle at soft porn. We whistle at abuse & filthy slang. We worship sports-stars. We ape screen-stars. We adore rock-stars. We fantasize porn stars.

We take our date to movies & pubs before family & friends. We seek bedroom & sex before parks & pleasantry. And we want to blame it on the age & hormones rather than the lust & crooked mind. We make master-plans to get her into bed rather than get her into our family. We seek one night stands. We run from life-long commitments. We choose separation & break-ups. We tire of nurturing relationships.

We eat junk, crap & crispies. We drink fizz, alcohol & sweetened acids. We skip work-out and long for good health & toned body. We like couch potato. We scorn the gym or the pool. We prefer popping pills to shedding sweat. We deal with tension by eating more crap, smoking more tar and drinking more poison.

We tease the teetotaller. We glorify the drunkard. We fly on drugs, go high on grass. We feed good is boring. We feel being bad is cool. We think loyalty is ordinary. We seek thrill in adultery. We detest family get-togethers. We long for rave parties. We make plans to kill time. We don’t ponder on killing boredom.

We uphold the criminal. We side line the law-keeper. We market sleaze. We hush up scams. We debate on page 3. We remain silent of burning headlines. We spend on gadgets. We hoard in times of calamities. We stock black money. We stage strikes. We pelt stones. We burn buses. We trigger explosives. We bring nations to a grinding halt.

We pour over phones. We communicate on chat rooms. We run around like crazy. We get crazy when there is no running around to do. We get tensed when nothing’s happening. We get tensed when things start happening. We want others to fail, rather than our success. We please bosses. We fire subordinates. We promote boot-lickers. We ignore the talents. We prioritize jobs and remuneration. We de-focus our Spouse & kids.

We screw the language. We cut short words. We thrive on slang. We praise the foul-mouth. We support the bad-ass. We sympathize the guilty. We traumatize the victim. We build places of worship. We demolish huts of the poor. We kill livestock. We let terrorists go free.

Our lists of dos & don’ts go endless… We are the Generation Next. We are the world. We are the present. We shape the future.

Man on Woman

It was woman’s day last month & what better topic will be apt than women themselves... But the balancing act is tricky. If I write a man’s point of view on woman, I’d be inviting trouble; might even be outcast as a male chauvinist. If I just go ahead & praise woman, my male friends would find me odd & may suspect me having some sinister intentions. Staying silent is safe…

…but how long can you stay silent on the ones for whom battles were fought, kingdoms were squandered, lives were sacrificed, epics were written, melodies were sung. You would be amazed by the amount of instances when woman was the epicentre of most happenings. I wouldn’t be all wrong if I concluded that women shaped the course of our history.

That bewitching beauty, those deep dark eyes, the flowing mane, the full lips, the curves, mounds & valleys – only a woman can attract the enormous list of adjectives defining physicality.

The mother’s love, wife’s faith, sister’s concern, the daughter’s care are all essentially feminine in nature.

She holidays in outer space, she heads giant financial institutions, she was instrumental in keeping the cola giant alive, she has a whole state calling her “amma”, she’s the queen to her British subjects, she wins medals at the global meets, she creates one of the most popular fantasies ever, getting rich overnight, she has the whole industry dancing to her tunes, her screen presence leaves few men gasping for breath..

Why is such a beautiful, unique and powerful creation not getting its due?

Probably the un-fairer sex (if that is the antonym) feels threatened by the emergence of a parallel power. Traditionally in the Indian “culture”, the families have largely been patriarchal. Women are usually the ones who take care of the household & bring up children (which by itself a full time job – only thankless & unpaid for). Over centuries this practice has become a kind of an unsaid mandate. Now, the question is whether the woman is still willing to succumb to this, or does she have it in her to break out of the shackles and prove her worth…

Being the weaker sex or worse – being the object of sex is how the society has perceived woman as – fueled greatly by the media showcasing cases of assault, rape and domestic abuse. The options to choose in such an environment is a) lead a subdued life full of fear that you will be the next victim b) take on the matter full face, equip yourself on self-defense, drag the assaulter to justice, stand for your right and see that it is delivered.

Somebody said “behind every successful man there is a woman”. A cleverer fellow said “behind every unsuccessful man, there are two women.” Both the statements glorify woman-power: to make or break the situation.

They say that an elephant needs to be chained only initially. It grows up believing that the chains still exist. Now even when the full grown elephant is not chained, it behaves as if there is an imaginary chain keeping it tied.

Similarly women.

Yes, you have grown up listening to “moral responsibilities” of women, being the “family” types, always ready for sacrifices, caged within the four walls of the house, subjected to domestic violence, eve-teasing, “favours” to get work done, shackled to the old world philosophy, restricted from the so-called manly attributes…

Do not wait for the prince charming of your dreams to come & alleviate you off all your miseries. You are not living a fairy tale. This is a battlefield & the only way to survive is to fight… fight for your rights, fight for your life, fight for your freedom, fight for the respect, and fight for liberation. Fight such that it becomes a way of life. Nobody will offer all these on a platter to you. Men are happy the way you are… if you are not, you better wake up & start acting; for the more you rest in such a state, the more will be the inertia building up.

You are only limited by your thoughts. Now you decide what thoughts do you want to nurture for yourself.

The Ultimate test of endurance

The plan of cycling to Lonavala was made even before I left Bangalore. This was my first weekend in Pune & my cycle had just arrived by cargo.

When you don’t have your family around, it is painful to kill time on the weekends. Especially for people like me who don’t get the kicks by loitering around malls or watching sub-standard movies in theatres or a pint of beer for that matter. That left me with little choice but to take my only soul-mate in Pune out on a date – my BTwin Riverside hybrid.

I rode to the only Decathlon available in Pune at Wagholi, traversing the entire length Pune from west to east, just to make sure all the minor tweaking on the brakes are gears where in place; while on a long road trip, efficiency of your cycle matters a lot. And I was about to learn efficiency in a whole new dimension the next day.

While at Decathlon I enquired if there were any riding clubs around. There was a BTwin club, and then there was another. I immediately got into their forum & expressed my desire to ride to Lonavala the next day. Finally Ankit & Jyoti decided to tag along.

Jyoti was the first one I met as she rode by my house on her Firefox at five in the morning. It didn’t take me long to develop a respect for her, when she stated that she won the Enduro National event last year- that included 160 kms of cycling! I had never crossed 80 kms in a day. So today was going to be a record of sorts for me. Ankit joined at Chinchwad & then we set out on the Old Pune – Mumbai highway.

The ride was eventless & not at all tiring as we were getting to know each other as we cycled along through pleasant dawn. We reached Lonavala at 08.30 and then decided to straight away head towards Bushi dam. We had gone about 4 kms ahead, when my friends decided that its better they return as it will be difficult once the sun is up. So we rode back to Lonavala and had breakfast. It was then that I decided that, having come so far, why not do some sight-seeing. I expressed that I’d like to stay back & try to cover up a few more places. They warned me about the sun & left to Pune.

I opened Wikitravel & made a list of places to visit. A passer-by gave directions & then I headed back towards Bushi dam. There was hardly anything to see at Bushi dam or the Lonavala lake as it was summer. I proceeded further to explore the Tiger’s leap & Lion’s point. After sometime, with the sun going up, riding uphill became tougher. As I approached the hair-pin curves, I had to get off & push the cycle up the road. I did not want to give up for three reasons: 1) the sight from the top was supposed to be amazing. 2) I could see a whole crowd going uphill 3) I knew that the more I climb the more I get to zip down the hill. The 9 kms downhill ride at 60 kmph at Italy had been an exhilarating experience.

I saw the Harleys, Hondas, Ninjas and Yamahas with fifty plus horses on two wheels scurry up as I inched my way on foot. Surprisingly I never saw a cyclist anywhere around. After 3 kms (which felt like 30) of pushing the cycle up the hill I could ride again. I crossed the Lions Point. I don’t know the reasoning behind the name, but the view was good; so was the masala lime soda which I consumed so thirstily. I proceeded further towards Aamby Valley. Then somebody said there is hardly anything to see in there. So I decided to return. But it was noon & I was too tired. I was carrying 3 litres of water in my back pack & all of it was empty. I went off the road & found a shade of the tree to rest. Meanwhile I checked on Google Maps & was surprised that I was 81 kms and 1 hr 43 min away from Pune. Little did Google know that I was on bicycle.

After 30 min of shut-eye and some photo session I hit the road again. Going down the hill into the breeze, as expected, was a memorable experience, although I had to slow down at the hair-pin curves.

It was 2 by the time I reached Lonavala. Lunch time. I had to rest a bit before eating and so I decided to shop for the famous Lonavala Chikkis. The transaction was simple. “Bhaiyya, Give me one of every flavour.” When he packed everything and it went into my bag I realized my mistake – 2 kgs additional weight on my back and I had 60 more kilometres to go.

I went for a Gujarati Thali . On a normal day I’m a good eater – especially when it comes to unlimited thalis or buffet. But today I was not able to eat much of solid food. That was one revelation I had about a tired body. I took as much of liquids as they had on the menu – chaas & aamras and left.

It was 3 when I started my return. And that was the biggest mistake of the day. It didn’t take me long to realize the seriousness of my friends advice – cycling under the scorching sun, that too on an open highway, was no kids play. I was soon like an overheated engine, wanting to shut down. 8 kms was all I had covered when I saw the signpost of Karla caves. I remembered the name from the Wiki travel browsing in the morning. I decided to go there and rest for a while. The place was 2.5 kms off the highway – the last 1 km was a steep climb to the top. Sometimes I wonder why do all good things have to be at the top.

I locked my cycle to a pole and started climbing. The chikkis and couple of bottles of juice in my bag was feeling like a huge burden – and no, I’m not exaggerating. It felt so heavy under the hot sun that I couldn’t drag myself up the hill. I had to sit beside the road for a whole half an hour so that I could muster enough strength to make it to the top. Once at the caves I chose a quiet corner and just collapsed. I decided not to cycle with the sun up, ever in my life.

I must have rested for an hour when I saw the intensity of the sun was receding. Time to leave, lest I get rammed by a speeding vehicle on the dark highway. The descend was easy – with some sugarcane juice to pep me up.

Once I started riding I never stopped until I reached Pune – that is the difference, I reiterate, between riding with and without the sun.

I took a cold bath & lay spread-eagled on the mat. The next thing I knew, as I got up at 3.30 am, was that the lights were on, the music was still playing through my earphone (I had started it when I left Karla caves), the fruits I had brought for dinner was still packed and I had not even bothered to get into the bed.
Now that is what I call the ultimate test of endurance: 180 kms of riding over 14 hrs, 10 ltr of water consumed, fully tanned, and with salts deposited on gloves & cap after evaporation of sweat.