HAMARA BAJAJ

Sigh...!People say life is a pain ...and i completely agree with them...rather in my case its even worse ...I am treated under the "frequent screwer" programme akin to the airlines wherein i get an extra bonus of pains....delivered at my doorstep ....at no extra charge...urrggh.

Ever since I trespassed into IIT, I believe my pains have grown exponentially like a chain reaction...its been like "get-it-where-you-want-it" and also "get-it-more-where-you-don’t". Traversing the long endless roads of IIT seems no less than an intercontinental marathon and with the authorities ensuring that we get the best lake side view at the farthest limits of the campus, there is just no way you could manage to get to the 8.30 lecture in time.

Life limped in the first two years as did i carrying tonnes of flab on my body from hostel to class to hostel to lab. One fine day I decided I had enough of this loose shunting and I need to get some means of transport to make life easier.

With the resources at hand I could just manage to get my good'ol rickety "bajaj scooter" from home.... so as long as it saved me the travails of trudging along the never ending roads it was ok with me.

After getting past the the sleepy "bhaiyas" (read clerks...who use their pen to dig into every open hole at sight....I wonder what they search for ..is it gold or something?....whatever) at the booking office in LTT and saving our skins from the "give-me-all-you-have" dalals ready to rip you off all your belongings, we finally chugged away to powai, soon to realize we were short of fuel(see i said i get trouble delivered at my doorstep !) so after dragging the metal chunk on wheels for around half a kilometer...we finally spotted a petrolpump. Ah! it felt like an oasis in the sahara with arabian dancers ready with a platter of fruits and exotic wine all set to to do the "habibi" for us.

We finally managed to reach powai after a long and perilous ride thru the highway. People gave me the look I would soon be accustomed to .... at that point it felt like I was dressed like a zulu tribal racing along the highway on a huge wild boar!

We finally reached IIT ..'Bas yahin se shuru hoti hai meri zillat ki kahani" ..The first day i took it to class saw many of my fellow students being startled at the mere look of it ..cmon at college you were supposed to ride swanky bikes with a cool babe on the pillion (sigh...i had neither ! )..and here I was on my dear hamara bajaj with my friend !

Many a names began to be coined for me ...papa ...uncle .....dada...and what not.!People on bikes gave me wicked smirka as if i had bought my scooter from a grey market in Sudan.Everytime i have an important class and i happen to be running late(just becoz i unfortunately scheduled my occasional bath that day) my scooter would definitely hurl mechanical abuses at me refusing to start (there comes my pain overdose again).After a lot of cajoling and bending this side - that side I finally get the thing running. As i see my classmates zipping away on their SU Flankers i have this piece of contraption waiting to buckle under my load:(

hmmmm...... tragic...is'nt it?