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Weekend

October 12, 2009 Leave a comment Go to comments

When I left my room for lunch last Saturday I had plans to come back and work on my resume and the long pending dual degree project (DDP). Okay, the worst case could have been me delaying both the stuff. But there was no way I could have imagined that I would return on Sunday evening, my white t-shirt having turned into some colour that no optimist could classify as white and my jeans moist and sandy. I had a little adventure.

So the lunch. The regular, at Himalaya. It was a hot day. Still I thought to accompany Doodh who was going out of institute for a courier. We had a bike. We left IIT and after an hour decided to go to Bachcha’s place. His flat is on OMR and that makes a good ride. Half an hour later, we were at his door. Moli was already there.

Someone once said, always carry liquor when meeting old friends. We meet every weekend, still we think the idea of liquor is good. So we had beer. And we decided that Raju Srivastav’s shaadi wala piece is a classic. After all that, we went to Ghalib’s place, who lives nearby. We were treated with Smirnoff and food.

Later that night, as four of us (me, Doodh, Moli, Bachcha) were sitting in Dominos we realized we didn’t have the key to Bachcha’s flat. The other occupants had locked it and gone for a movie. Two of us were in shorts without wallet, there was one driving license among us and about 100 in cash. We had two bikes. It was 11pm. We thought of a ride till Mahabalipuram.

The first agenda was to get petrol as both the bikes had limited fuel. We found a pump but it had run out of petrol. We went upto Mahabalipuram but there was no second pump in sight. And that’s when we realized that we didn’t have sufficient petrol to return to Chennai.

We figured that it was best to return to the first and only pump that we had found, and pain the guys there for some petrol that they may be hiding somewhere, or in the worst case, ask directions for the next pump. There was no hidden petrol and the next pump was nowhere close. We were 40 km from Chennai. That night, for the first time, we slept on newspapers on dusty and dirty ground of the petrol pump. Two pairs of slippers with a cardboard sheet on top of them formed a makeshift pillow for one of us. A bag that we were carrying formed the second pillow, shared by two. And the last one used a helmet.

The lights were directly overhead and every 15 minute some vehicle would come blaring its horns or the music player. We couldn’t sleep much. We were awake at 3:30am. Now what?

Further talks with the pump guy told us that this particular pump won’t receive petrol for the next two days.

We asked a couple of bikers for the nearest pump, though we were not sure if we could reach there. Finally someone said there is a pump which has petrol. It was about 15 km away. We decided to try our luck.

We left our place of stay at 4:45am, in the hope of getting fuel and catching sunrise on the beach. The road after Mahabalipuram, parallel to the one that goes to Pondycherri was awesome at dawn. As we rode on we saw it getting brighter gradually. There were fields on either side of the road and the sky sported a colour that any photographer would die for. We didn’t have a camera and the battery in the camera phone was long dead. Finally we got fuel (paid 30 bucks in coins), but it was too cloudy for a nice sunrise.

The next destination was Shore Temple. We had tea and hit the beach there. After a very salty swim, it was time to return to Chennai. The weather didn’t show any signs to lessen its grandeur. And then it started to rain! Nothing beats the combination of bikes on East Coast Road, awesome morning weather, rains, brightly lit patch in the ocean that stays with you beside the road and pink coloured buses passing by every now and then.

We returned to Bachcha’s flat at 9am, too exhausted and hungry. A bath and a Maggi later, everyone knew it was time to sleep, and to return to IIT only when we woke up, whenever that would be.

The original courier that Doodh had to send still lay in his bag.

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  1. October 12, 2009 at 4:48 pm

    A journey one can never forget 😉 I wish only if I was there 🙂

    • October 13, 2009 at 2:58 pm

      Tu aayega to fir kuch karenge. 🙂

  2. October 12, 2009 at 6:05 pm

    totally unexpected masti …

  3. neelangana
    October 13, 2009 at 2:41 pm

    WOW!!

    WOW!! WOW!!!

    Sounds like the real Roadies (minus the camera 😛 )

    “Ghar Se Hum Chale, Bas Ek Backpack Aur Ek Guitar
    Paison Ki Fikar Nahi, Bike Pe Hum Sawaar
    Raahon Ki Hai Khabar, Na Manzil Ka Hai Pataa
    Phir Bhi Chal Diye, Jaane Ab Hoga Kya…”

    What wouldn’t I give to have this experience! *sigh*
    The original Adventure!!!

  4. neelangana
    October 13, 2009 at 2:44 pm

    BTW; I understand how difficult it is without a pillow. I had a friend use a bean-bag as substitute once. But, Helmet?!

    • October 13, 2009 at 2:59 pm

      Roadies minus the babes. 😛

  5. Bachcha
    October 13, 2009 at 3:25 pm

    Dude we forgot to mention about the squirrel and the petrol pump bathroom with no lights 🙂

    • October 13, 2009 at 3:27 pm

      Bade bade logon mein choti choti baatein ho jaati hain.

  6. neelangana
    October 15, 2009 at 12:10 am

    i want that Raju Srivastav’s shaadi wala piece

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