Chapter 2 - Circle of Confusion: 3000 miles journey across India

Read --- Chapter 1 - The Pain: 3000 miles journey across India

2 hours since I left Vadodara and Ahmedabad was still 25kms, nothing had been going right for the day. The ride had been bumpy with no top gear transmission, every time I tried to hit the cruising gear the lord of Diversions welcomed me with arms wide open (You know like Richard Gere!!).

“You know I usually take the expressway, yet last time when I travelled across this highway, it had about 4 diversions” said Shashank, ahoy!! he surely had forgot to add thirty to the count.

Across 80kms covered, I had been giving indicators, changing gears, honking and yelling out complaints, blaming Gods, Government official, villagers, foes, friends, and self. There were trucks, buses, and cars...cars!! Weren’t they supposed to take the expressway; it’s for them why the riders were not allowed; even when they are more quick and disciplined.

Over the years of driving, I had realized that "the only thing common between a pedestrian and a rider is that they both hate four-wheelers and their owners. "

Gasp! I was supposed to cancel my train reservation ticket, which I booked in case I decide to give up on the idea of this cross-country madness. I immediately stopped June to check my cell phone; with Fortuna unhappy with me there was no reason I could have had access to internet facility in the distant town of Anand. I called my friend to quickly cancel the bookings but luck doesn’t come in customized packages, we were late, the money was lost so was the time. Wasting no more time on regrets I was on move, Ahmedabad was 15kms and I was low on fuel.

“Go straight, at the next circle take a left and you will be on National Highway number 8” I did as suggested; 5kms and I could see signboards for Rajkot and Kutch. I knew there was something wrong.

Suddenly a flamboyant Enfield rider on his black modified 2009 model caught me, and with gestures of hand he asked “WHERE?”
I pulled up my helmet to reply “UDAIPUR, Rajasthan”.

We were standing by the roadside; I had taken a wrong turn.

A Few minutes later I was following him through lanes of Ahmedabad where I was sure even few locales ever go.

“Travelling alone?? Where are you going” he shouted, using best of his abilities to use his mouth as sprinkler which sprayed less of betel leaf and more of his words.

“Jaipur... I have a friend at Vadodara, Gujarat”, I ensured he knew that I had contacts.

“Need servicing or food, come along...pchhhhh” he made most of the physics he studied to spit all the juice in opposite direction calculating exact landing, with the momentum of the vehicle, the pressure of air & with the content in the juice that ensured the landing was way safe on a watery pothole.

“No ...very thanks, so I need to go straight another 4kms, take left at ‘T’ junction to reach NH8” I confirmed, even after his deliberate help I had no intention to hang on. I was running low on time.

Thanking him again, I paced enough to leave him behind, not seeing him in rear view mirror I stopped twice to confirm the information he gave.

It’s not that I regret meeting him, but the way he caught me and the turns he made me take, made me feel insecure. Few more minutes I was on Highway, he was right.

Another left and I was in the same circle where it all started, my malfunction light was on, and the fuel level was dropping quickly. I knew I cannot afford to enter the core of the city. It was 1200 hours the heat was taking the toll on me. Both my water bottles dropped from the luggage bag during any of the roller coaster bumps during last 3 hours.

After desperate searching I found a cabbie with ‘Rajasthan’ on his number plate. He guided me to the outer ring road where I stopped at the first petrol pump. Refuelled, had some water - checked the map, Chittorgarh was almost 350kms I had no better option than to stop there; the Ahmadabad circle had gobbled more than an hour of my precious schedule.

10 minutes and I was on my way, next target was Himmatnagar, where they said were the last petrol pump before Gujarat – Rajasthan borders, & where the Aravalis range kissed the land.

At 100kmph and sailing roads, I thought how quickly did roads surprise you, and how prejudiced are we towards people by their looks.

If it would not have been for the betel eating, bragging, extrovert Ahmadabadi, it would have been in a different situation. I would had been at a wrong place, cursing my luck for the condition where no one was to blame.

Himmatnagar 89kms, Udaipur 249kms said the milestone. I knew I had a lot more to cover, then getting confused in circles.

To Be Continued ...