The summer this year has been harsh and the period we term as the monsoon season has been a pitiful one – dry , few drops of rain that increased the misery of humidity . The craziness is further heightened by the total lack of rain which has refused to fall . Clouds build up and the rain plays hide and seek – we seek and the rain hides , and wins , for we can never find it at all,ever .

This afternoon too as all afternoons was also a sultry and hot one,hot inside the house but marginally better outside as a tantalizingly cool breeze gently blew across Kansal Pind .

Far into the distance , there were black storm clouds building over the Lower Shivaliks . Hmmmmm – an idle mind is always a devil’s playground- so the little red arrow tailed man in my head whispered – ride , come on baby ride , let me make your dreams come true ( Neil Diamond ) , and so the next step ?- helmet on , gloves on , ignition , roar of the Bonneville , and off we went – chasing the rain .

The road to the lower Morni , lay through the back roads of Kansal , awesome in its own inimitable way , sarkandas and bovine all mixed together in a beautiful compilation of rural peace and harmony .

Bonny and the Bull .

Magnificent & Majestic.

Nestling in the Sarkanda .

The thunder and the storm was tantalizing in the far distance , nevertheless it had to be found , so I headed out to the highway and navigated towards Pinjore . I made a right for Thapli one of our favorite spots . The threat of the rain was now real , and the clouds beckoned so I unleashed the silver horses in the Bonneville – who leapt into the wind roaring in anticipation – and lo and behold , we found the rain , and as the spray hit my face – I was happy .

And I rode into the rain , a rider in the storm , and as I rode with the wind and rain hitting me one my face I realised that it had been many a decade since I had felt the joie devivre of riding in the rain…What a feeling!With the tarmac wet and hissing beneath the tyres and with a song in my heart – it was a fantastic moment , and to help -the “mausam” was awesome !

Triumph – T100 Bonneville.

The Storm Rider .

The rain fell gently but steadily all the way past Kotian and Jallah , with the Ghaggar on the left , until I arrived at the Thapli bridge now awash in the rain . The hills of Morni and the fields in the valley floor were glorious and verdant in their emerald cloaks , whilst the thunder clouds – in many hues of gray – painted an appropriate backdrop with the sun playing hide and seek amongst the bosky cumulus . The river was a torrent from the rain in the hills which however did not deter the local yokels from cavorting happily in the chocolate colored waters . Serenity .

The river – runs deep , runs wild .

Setting Sun – Bonny – Bridge .

Bathing Local Yokels .

The silence on the bridge was only broken by the roar of the river in the rocks of the river bed below , the call of a crow – merrily singing a happy song , the bark of a dog -happy in the cooling drizzle , after a hot sultry day , were the only sounds to be heard .

Ignition – is the hardest thing to do when it’s time to catch the setting sun .

Vaya con dios – compadr !

  • Robin Nakai

    Biker - Traveller - Foodie - Adventurer - Bindas Jat - Cottonian - Chiild of the Seventies !


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