Will I ever be able to sleep in peace again? The worst thing that could ever happen to a guy has happened to a colleague of mine. A crime so unspeakably dastardly that it makes my blood boil and freeze at the same instant. My friend parks his 3 month old Pulsar 220 after work right beneath his house in Salt Lake and the next morning finds that his motorcycle is gone! Gone to be dismantled into a thousand pieces, its engine to run a boat in some far off river, its tyres to be reused on some bullock cart. Who even on this sin ridden earth would be desperate enough to destroy a thing of such beauty? Apparently there are such people!
My thoughts turn to one of the few things in my life that I unabashedly take pleasure in owning. On it, I am an uncaged bird, free from all the bindings of a slow moving existence. The magical glinting blue shade of my Bajaj Pulsar 180 and its throaty roar as it plows through the chaos of Calcutta's roads are my daily elixir. It wouldn't be stretching things too far to say that I go to work and come back just because it's an excuse to ride my motorcycle again. Often times in the day, I find myself standing at a distance and gazing on it in rapture. Sometimes it's difficult to believe that such a divine creature is legally and spiritually mine. And the thought of some random opportunistic thief taking it away from me... forever... makes my stomach go queasy and a foul taste well up in my mouth. I think I just discovered what the greatest fear of my life is!