Flipping through pages of a bike magazine, a section on new bikes catches my eye. I read through each of the articles carefully. The thought of a new bike has always fascinated me. Fantasizing about bikes goes way back to childhood. The best fantasies are the ones that a human being experiences as a child. Everything’s possible in his mind’s playground. He then keeps growing and so does a certain fantasy which he holds on to ‘forever and ever’.
It all started with my dad buying me a toy bike. A shiny yellow sports bike look alike which to me, was faster than any bike on planet earth or at least the neighboring kid’s toy bike. The next few days were filled with the whole house going ‘VRRRROOOM VRRROOM, BRRR BRR BRRR’ and all sorts of engines sounds my bike (rather my throat) could make. It would run all day on the flooring or jump in the air traveling the entire area of my house. It would run in circles on the insides of utensils and, buckets even if they were filled with water. It could climb closets vertically or ride along windows. Hell, it could even climb my grandpa’s pot belly and ride on it till his annoyed grunts started to sound like another bike engine growling.
One fine day it had an accident (repairing it was another of my fantasies) and so it HAD to be repaired. I stripped it down to the last part with my dad’s toolkit only to realize that my engineering skills were limited to breaking it down and not putting it back together. My dad swore not to buy me a toy bike again. I guess he feared I might grow up to become a garage mechanic and quite naturally, he had much more ambitious dreams for me. So the bike fantasy was replaced by fights with Skeletor, teaming up with He-man and enjoying Disneyland with Mickey and Donald. And thus the love for bikes continued; a passion that evolved from a life-long fantasy.
One fine day on T.V a series called Street Hawk began to be aired. It had a guy clad in black clothes and riding a bike which was equally black all over. It ran faster than other vehicles, it could jump over cars; it could chase bad guys and also save the girl in the end. I said to myself”Wow, this is new!” Dad too seemed to enjoy this and hence let me watch it. This brought back all the bike fantasies I cherished as a kid and also made room for some new ones. With age, the toy bike was replaced by the real thing. It all started with my neighbor buying a new bike. It was a Hero Honda for the kids and the owner’s son was the most popular guy. Luckily, I would get an occasional ride on his dad’s bike and I would go of to sleep every night wishing that I had one of my own. My love for bikes was later supported by a bicycle. It didn’t have an engine but what the hell! My throat could still give that extra grunt. I would ride it all day with my other friends and soon a “BIKER GANG” was formed. Impressing girls was never on the agenda. Getting even with other boys was. Street hawk had indeed inspired me and I turned to doing wheelies (flipping the front wheel up), stoppies (flipping the rear wheel up) and skids. My stunts led me to my ultimate fantasy: the tag of the coolest rider in the group.
As years rolled in, maturity exposed me to another aspect of bike riding - the female attention that came with the power over the wheel. This, I learnt, on seeing the older guys driving fancy bikes with girls on their back seat. It must be such a high, we wondered. The next few years went begging with cousins to teach me to ride a bike, who wondered that this guy couldn’t touch his feet to the ground when seated on a bike, why does he want to learn it? How would they understand my deep-rooted fantasy for bikes now!
I entered college life and we moved into a new place near my college. Moving into a new place gave a new impetus to my bike fantasies. Everything but my college was far off so a bike seemed the need of the hour or at least I’d make it sound like. And my enthusiasm of riding a bike convinced my parents to finally get me one. At 18, I owned a bike. Riding a bike is great but owning one takes the cake. It became my most priced possession. Soon I learned to ride and hope to ride it everyday.
In the next few years the number of bike riders grew and so did my bike fantasy. It has actually grown with me. What started with a plastic bike which could ride on my grandpa’s tummy had then turned into Street Hawk which then again turned into a bicycle that had ultimately turned into a real bike. This reality was the sweetest of them all.
But then, it’s not about impressing your friends with your riding skills, getting some female attention or being popular with a neat looking machine under your ass. The real fantasy is above all this. It’s just the thrill of being on a bike, riding it fast with the wind blowing on your face, and performing those occasional stunts to get a new high.
The childhood fantasy of riding a bike was, still is, and will remain my ultimate fantasy forever. Just when I thought it wouldn’t grow anymore, I’ve been proved wrong. And for those who share such fantasies with me, until the next ride.
- Harshal Kalyanpur
harshalkpr@gmail.com
It all started with my dad buying me a toy bike. A shiny yellow sports bike look alike which to me, was faster than any bike on planet earth or at least the neighboring kid’s toy bike. The next few days were filled with the whole house going ‘VRRRROOOM VRRROOM, BRRR BRR BRRR’ and all sorts of engines sounds my bike (rather my throat) could make. It would run all day on the flooring or jump in the air traveling the entire area of my house. It would run in circles on the insides of utensils and, buckets even if they were filled with water. It could climb closets vertically or ride along windows. Hell, it could even climb my grandpa’s pot belly and ride on it till his annoyed grunts started to sound like another bike engine growling.
One fine day it had an accident (repairing it was another of my fantasies) and so it HAD to be repaired. I stripped it down to the last part with my dad’s toolkit only to realize that my engineering skills were limited to breaking it down and not putting it back together. My dad swore not to buy me a toy bike again. I guess he feared I might grow up to become a garage mechanic and quite naturally, he had much more ambitious dreams for me. So the bike fantasy was replaced by fights with Skeletor, teaming up with He-man and enjoying Disneyland with Mickey and Donald. And thus the love for bikes continued; a passion that evolved from a life-long fantasy.
One fine day on T.V a series called Street Hawk began to be aired. It had a guy clad in black clothes and riding a bike which was equally black all over. It ran faster than other vehicles, it could jump over cars; it could chase bad guys and also save the girl in the end. I said to myself”Wow, this is new!” Dad too seemed to enjoy this and hence let me watch it. This brought back all the bike fantasies I cherished as a kid and also made room for some new ones. With age, the toy bike was replaced by the real thing. It all started with my neighbor buying a new bike. It was a Hero Honda for the kids and the owner’s son was the most popular guy. Luckily, I would get an occasional ride on his dad’s bike and I would go of to sleep every night wishing that I had one of my own. My love for bikes was later supported by a bicycle. It didn’t have an engine but what the hell! My throat could still give that extra grunt. I would ride it all day with my other friends and soon a “BIKER GANG” was formed. Impressing girls was never on the agenda. Getting even with other boys was. Street hawk had indeed inspired me and I turned to doing wheelies (flipping the front wheel up), stoppies (flipping the rear wheel up) and skids. My stunts led me to my ultimate fantasy: the tag of the coolest rider in the group.
As years rolled in, maturity exposed me to another aspect of bike riding - the female attention that came with the power over the wheel. This, I learnt, on seeing the older guys driving fancy bikes with girls on their back seat. It must be such a high, we wondered. The next few years went begging with cousins to teach me to ride a bike, who wondered that this guy couldn’t touch his feet to the ground when seated on a bike, why does he want to learn it? How would they understand my deep-rooted fantasy for bikes now!
I entered college life and we moved into a new place near my college. Moving into a new place gave a new impetus to my bike fantasies. Everything but my college was far off so a bike seemed the need of the hour or at least I’d make it sound like. And my enthusiasm of riding a bike convinced my parents to finally get me one. At 18, I owned a bike. Riding a bike is great but owning one takes the cake. It became my most priced possession. Soon I learned to ride and hope to ride it everyday.
In the next few years the number of bike riders grew and so did my bike fantasy. It has actually grown with me. What started with a plastic bike which could ride on my grandpa’s tummy had then turned into Street Hawk which then again turned into a bicycle that had ultimately turned into a real bike. This reality was the sweetest of them all.
But then, it’s not about impressing your friends with your riding skills, getting some female attention or being popular with a neat looking machine under your ass. The real fantasy is above all this. It’s just the thrill of being on a bike, riding it fast with the wind blowing on your face, and performing those occasional stunts to get a new high.
The childhood fantasy of riding a bike was, still is, and will remain my ultimate fantasy forever. Just when I thought it wouldn’t grow anymore, I’ve been proved wrong. And for those who share such fantasies with me, until the next ride.
- Harshal Kalyanpur
harshalkpr@gmail.com
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3 comments:
First of all, welcome to FRW again. A second write-up on bikes again. We're convinced of your fantasy now :)
About the article, it is full of humor and detailing about this passion. It shows us yet another facet to fantasy. But next time, we'd like to see a more versatile writer in you. Happy writing :)
But then, it’s not about impressing your friends with your riding skills, getting some female attention or being popular with a neat looking machine under your ass. The real fantasy is above all this. It’s just the thrill of being on a bike, riding it fast with the wind blowing on your face, and performing those occasional stunts to get a new high.
:)
Even I want a bike man...or perhaps a more feminine version of it! Your article made me want it even more..:( Mom will never agree..:( :(
Some fantasies just die!
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