Alvida, Jan 19-20, 2008

I hate goodbyes. However, the time had come to say goodbye to the Mohammed. I was supposed to fly to Indore on the 21st, and would not see the Mohammed again. So began the plans for a grand send-off for my mate. A four day road trip was in the offing, and after contemplating various scenarios and destinations (including Chennai, Coimbatore, Kanyakumari, Gurgaon et. al.), we decided on a 2400 km track that would take us to Mumbai-Pune-Goa-Mangalore-Bangalore-Pune-Mumbai. Manegable

However, the road trip was to be jinxed like none other till date. With people backing out as the date grew closer, on the night of the 16th, it was just me, Ankush and Rahul. A four day road trip also meant the Mohammed was in for more upgrades – A new pair of side lamps to ensure better night-visibility, and, finally, a tool box. 17th was spent in gearing up for the trip and the night was spent working in the lab. I finally came home around 3 am and went to sleep thinking of the highway and the beaches that we were meant to hit in Goa the next day. 18th morning – I wake up to see an SMS from Ankush who had gotten some very urgent stuff at work and could not come. Not a good start… and then the batteries to my phone died. I went for a final check up of the electrical and other essentials to Moolchands and was trying to get in touch with Rahul. Thats when i find out that Rahul has been in a hit and run with a mini bus and is sitting in Sion hospital. So that pretty much canceled my plans for today i thought. We (Me and Alakh) reach Sion police station to collect Rahul and his bike, who was largely unhurt if you ignore the big burn wound on his palm and the fact that he was hit by a MINI bus. Anyways, not only did Rahul insist on continuing with the trip, but he would also not consent to the taking of a single bike. So we took his Enfield for some quick repairs and collected it that night. Work kept bot of us up that night too and finally around 10 the next day we managed to take off.

The original road trip was planned somewhat like this -
Day 1 - Start off from Mumbai – 500 Kms to Belgaon on the NH 4 and take the diversion to Goa – 100kms.
Day 2 – Start from Goa, take the NH 17 till Mangalore 350 Km and then take the NH48 to go towards Bangalore – 350 Km
Day 3 – Start from Bangalore and target Pune 850 Km (Ambitious but doable)
Day 4 – Spend some time in Pune with friends and head for Bombay 150 Km

However, the loss of a day made this trip … well … almost impossible. Taken into the fact that we managed to start off from Panvel at 11:30 in the morning was not helping either. SO we decided to go to Goa and see from there. Rahul had a bandaged left hand but was at ease and we were literally flying, averaging over 90 Km/h. With one stop for lunch, a refueling stop and one to adjusts Rahul’s ignition timing (how can we not have a stop for that ), we made good ground, reaching Belgaon at 6 pm in the evening.

Now i have been on many rides before, but the pure rush from driving in the beautiful countryside for 7 straight hours was ….. nirvana. Both of us were completely drowned in this rush and decided at 6 to head for Bangalore instead, which was another 500 Kms. Now I know, normally faced with a choice of Goa Vs Bangalore, any person would choose Goa ( I mean come on ) But well…this was not about the destination, it was about the ride, the glory (don’t laugh!!! There are circles where this is treated with the utmost respect !!) and the people. So…we headed for Bangalore.

The one thing we had not considered however, was fatigue … We both had slept badly, and the dense night meant that the beautiful countryside that generally kept one distracted was nothing but a pitch black canvass now. I vividly remember imagining the black and white strips on the divider as another lane, and suddenly remembering that I was going at over a 100 Kmph. This incident prompted a quick stop for some very strong and sweet chai. We kick started again – and thats when it all went to hell..

The NH4 – which is a almost empty 4 lane divided highway all the way in Maharashtra, suddenly gave way to a bumpy tattered highway in Karnataka. Repair work meant that complete sides of the highway had been cordoned off and one frequently encountered diversions that had us driving on the wrong side of the road. From averaging over 90kmph to 30-40kmph …. bleah. We managed to make it to Ranibennur around 10:15, and discovered for the first time what it was to be in a town where nobody spoke f=your native language. After 15 minutes of charades, we finally managed to give the order in a dinghy restaurant for some dal – which was oil with a few traces of dal, tamatar masala – which was oil with some masala and no trace of tamatar and rotis. At 11, we called up people in Bangalore letting them know that we would reach the town around 4 am, so that they be prepared with food and stuff

We were informed that the highway had bad diversions for the next 10 kms (Note : never ever trust a distance metric which is given in round figures like 1, 10, 100). We headed off cautiously as even our combined headlights were seemingly inadequate as the diversions were never marked.

Then it happened – we encountered another such diversion – this one however, was on a puliya(bridge over a small canal). I swerved to take the other side, and was just checking to see if Rahul had followed, when I saw him driving straight into the ditch. For an instant, everything stopped. I remember going blank and then suddenly panic struck. I parked my bike beyond the bridge and ran to the ditch, which was at least 25 feet deep. I slid down the steep sides to find an unconscious Rahul at the base. He finally gained consciousness and amazingly was able to sit up after some time. I left him at the base and went up to the highway to try and flag down a truck. Given it was 12:00 in the night in the middle of nowhere on a comparatively deserted highway, I should not have been surprised that most truckers/cab drivers ignored my furious hand waving and shouts for help. The stupid people at the end of the emergency number only spoke in Kannada and cut me off. Finally after 15-20 mins, i managed to flag down a truck. I went into the ditch again and helped Rahul stand up again !!! None of the truckers were willing to get in the ditch, understandably so, given that it was 12 at night in the middle of a lonely highway. With some effort, me and Rahul reached the steep wall of the ditch and Rahul somehow managed the strength to crawl up a few feet with some help before the truckers could reach down and pull him out.

We were out…but still in the middle of nowhere. The truckers were nice people, but were not willing to get involved in the whole police scene – and in hindsight, can’t really blame them. The next town was 4-5 km away, so i gathered our bags in the front and made Rahul sit on the back and slowly started on to Devangere. The man had just fallen almost two storeys, and was clearly in a lot of pain. Luckily, there was no major bleed and the other bleeds seemed to have stopped for the moment. We made our way slowly to Devangere, which took us about a half hour. The truckers were following us all the way to make sure we did not miss the nondescript exit for the town. I kept broaching up random topics, trying to make sure Rahul remained conscious. His first coherent comment – I remember distinctly – was, “How are we getting my bike out of the ditch !!!”. @#$@#%@%@.

We entered the town at around 12:30 and were taken to Bapuji hospital by an autorickshaw. Needless to say, the hospital was a disaster. What could be expected in a government hospital in a small town … but given Rahul’s condition – a disaster. After a painful physical, administered by an unsympathetic doctor, we admitted Rahul for the night. I had called for reinforcements from Bangalore – Rahul’s brother, Sunnet and Pranky, who had started off and would reach Devangere in the morning. It was a long night, especially for Rahul, who, despite his throbbing back pain, had to make a number of transfers from a gunnery to the bed and back. How can a hospital have a gunnery which is a foot higher than all their beds, I can’t understand. At four, finally all the tests were done, and there was no major immediate concern. We settled for the night, but could not really sleep. The events of the night kept flashing in my mind…

Finally morning came, and reinforcements were here. We left Rahul with his brother to hunt for an ambulance to take him to Bangalore. Rahul and his brother left in the ambulance around 12:30, and then came the task of dealing with the police. After hours spent first toiling with the locals and the police to carry the bike out of the ditch, we discovered that had no legal recourse to take, even though the highway had no signs indicating the end of the road. After hours of bs, we had had enough!!!. A bribe to the local police station, and we were off with the bike, which was to be couriered. I had not slept in 36 hours, so was planning to catch a quick nap in the cab before we left for the next 300 kms for Bangalore. At the courier station, it was discovered that I could send Mohammed with Rahuls bike for almost no extra cost. If this were to be, this would be my list moment with Mohammed. This was not the great send off I had imagined, and was contemplating the 300 km trip, but the events of the last 24 hours finally drove some sense into me. I said my goodbyes to the Mohammed with a last ride in the town, and we were off to Bangalore in the cab around 6 pm.

I reached Bangalore at 11 when we met Rahul at the hospital. Investigations had revealed a few fractures – some minor fractures in the spine in the middle back region, a fracture in his nose bridge, and a two fractures in his cheekbones under each eye. He also got a good earful from the doctor, to whom he was boastfully re-encountering the events of the last 36 hours. I guess he was high on pain meds at the time, as he seemed too cheerful in the morose company he was in.

After a late night dinner (We had not had anything the whole day), we crashed for the night. The next day, finally rested, we spent some time with Rahul, who was definitely looking better. I took a flight back home the next evening to Bombay, packed my stuff and headed home to prepare for Germany.

Its been more than three weeks now since the fateful night. In time, we could see the rash stupid decisions made in the rush of hormones and in the pursuit of short lived glory. At the time of the accident, we had been driving for 12 hours straight, after a night when both had not slept too well. We would have been in Goa, having fun, had we stuck to the original plan. And even if the accident had been avoided, we would have had to drive for something like 16-18 hours to make it Bangalore. Looking back, there were many moments in the trip when there were indications of exhaustion, letting us know we were stretching the limits too far. I guess what we take from this is the satisfaction that this could have been way more serious than it turned out to be – and that the next time we embark on a road trip (and I guess we both know we will again…someday), we would be wiser.

For now, Rahul is on bed rest in Bangaore. He might have to go some surgery, will definitely not be riding a bike for some time to come and is selling off his Enfield. The Mohammed is still parked in Bangalore, and will be hunting for a new owner in the future. i am in Germany, and I walk 40 mins everyday to work in the friggin cold

The world as we knew it has changed…..but we will be back

For now, its Alvida

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