Till Death We Ride

I’ve been riding since my childhood. As far as I can remember, it started back in my elementary school period but on a bicycle. Still, it’s a ride, right?

Then it came to riding a motorbike, that too at a very young age— right when I was a 6th grader. It’s a dream that came true although I dared not to speak my mind to my father, yet, he willingly asked me to sit in the front on a beautiful morning on a Friday. Till then, the revving continues— on different bikes, at different speeds. And I have pushed my bike to its limit, achieving a fair deal of top speed but my thirst for a higher kmph is yet to be satiated.

I know “speed thrills but kills” — meh, who cares! Not that I don’t fear death but if it happens on the road for some crazy riding, I guess it won’t bother me much as I clearly know with death, it all ends. So, people saying what might happen to your family— nah, this doesn’t concern me.

Life flows in its own way, they will find other means to survive regardless of the situation and forget about me— at least, when they die. It’s all about memories, right?

Whatever— riding has always satiated my mind when in distress or say, on the opposite. Coming in next is a good dish. Spending my time alone also counts but it depends on the context. The wind crawling through my skin gives a kick to my senses, making them aware of the surroundings leaving behind. The roaring of the engine under the belly excites my ear as my hand moans in pleasure every time I rotate the throttle.

Long gone.

Last time I had the privilege to ride a bike was a total adventure to me as I explored through unknown territory relying on Google Maps. Unfortunately, its database is yet to be top-notch in many third-world countries like ours. So, I had my fair share of hassle cruising through the countryside but yeah, I managed to reach my destination somehow. That’s an achievement I must say.

After riding for the last time back in the country, I looked at it. And thought what if I don’t get further opportunity to saddle in? The heart inside groaned with pain that nobody knows. The last time I put my helmet off is the time I knew Freedom has come to an end— freedom of happiness, freedom of living my life with the wind, with the emotion.

Many days have passed and I have encountered so many bikes around— Harley, KTM, Honda, and many others. A good number of sports cars as well; Lambo, BMW, Porsche, Supra and a few everyday cars turned into powerhouses— with all those turbo intakes, they roar like maniacs. Everytime I hear the loud noise approaching fast, I stretch my vision towards the busy roads in a hope to feast my eyes on their beauty.

But nothing compares to the bondings I created with machines back in the home; for that I know how they feel to be on top, how they respond, how they twerk if revved hard or land on a pothole. I don’t know when I will be able to ride one, not seeing any opportunity soon. Till then, you may rest my mighty crown.