T-Man 350: The Dawn of The Thunderbird

It was 6 A.M in the morning when he rolled him out of his garage (read cramped up Parking Space in a poorly planned Apartment). The bright red paint was reflecting the little daylight on his face and every inch of chrome on the T-Man was sparkling silver, reflecting like the brand new mirror on his bedroom wall. He craned his neck upwards at the sight of tiny droplets on the bulky, muscular frame of the T-Man. What better day could he pick to ride off into the country side, he thought himself. The weather was gloomy and the Sun was trying hard to shine its way through the thick cloud cover. But that was not going to deter him one bit. He was on a mission. And so was his partner in crime the T-Man 350, The Thunderbird. He slid the key into the Ignition, turned the key clockwise, 30 degrees and watched as the T-Man breathed his first breath of fresh air for that day.


“Fuel cork On, Fuel Content sufficient for the sortie, Ignition on, Back pack – strapped and out of harm’s way, Sun Glasses On – Dust Can kiss my ass”; he said to himself, as he slowly but carefully checked off his pre-ride checks. This was no ordinary ride, this was ecstasy. He pushed the lever by his leg and kicked once, then twice more. A thunderous roar filled his ears and all other ears in a 50 yard radius. The masculine roar of the 350 CC twin spark engine was creating a symphony of sorts in his head, sending a rush of adrenaline through his weary, sleepy body.


Satisfied, that there wasn’t a tiny speck of dust on his mean machine, he kicked the bike into first gear (yes, you’ve got to handle this boy with some brute force!) and sped away; as the cold, freezing morning breeze brushed past his face and sent a shiver down his spine. Quickly shifting through second, third, fourth and finally fifth, he raced off on the empty open roads of the city. Each shift followed by the beating heart sound of the twin spark. Dhup Dhup Dhup Dhup!!


6.20 AM at the crossroads of the Jawaharlal Nehru Outer Ring Road. “10 KM of riding bliss”, he thought to himself. The sign read -

Autos

Two Wheelers

Four Wheelers

“To hell with you”, he said, out loud, flashed a finger at the sign board forbidding bikes from entering the road and ripped the engine to it’s max rev and raced into the 6 lane(or was it 8 lane) 10KM stretch of road that lay beneath him. Then again his mean machine was way to over qualified for a bike anyway.


60 Km/hr, 70, 80, 90, 100, a 110… He showed no signs of slowing down as he swooped past cars, trucks and buses alike, never once failing to steal an awed glance, never once failing to smell the stink of a jealous driver he passed. He couldn’t hear the slightest grain on the engine as he hit a 120.. It took him a little while longer than he had expected but when he opened the throttle to its full extent the T-Man sped off into the blasting wind at a 126 Km/hr.


He lifted of the throttle a bit when he saw the fast approaching bend. The T-Man was bulky but he was nimble for his size and power. The turn was tight, almost a 180 degrees, he let the speed drop to a more cruising level, or at least that is what he thought. Staying in 5th and at a near 75 Km/hr, he put a bank on the bike, to its furthest extent, a feather touch on the breaks and with the ground a mere 2 feet from his face, he pulled up level at the end of the turn. It made him smile. He kicked the footrest and patted the T-Man’s shoulder’s and echoed his sentiments. “Now that’s what I call fucking excitement”, he said out loud.


Minutes later he was down at the end of the ring road and at the tip of another stretch of clean, level 8 lane tarmac of the National Highway 7. He put his foot down on the right while entering into the U-turn to the next stretch of his short ride. It helped him keep his balance while still keeping the acceleration out of the turn brisk and neat. The acceleration then sent a jarring through his entire body as he roared into NH-7 – bdhrrrrooooooooo… bdhrooooooooooooooooo… bdhroooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.


The blinding speed made his eyes weep, and the wind was making his cheek swell, but he kept on at the relentless speed of a 100 Km/hr, matching cars on the road for speed. Nothing was going to slow him down. He was going to be the rebel today. Not even a toll gate was going to stop him. A lorry to the left, a car to the right, blocking two lanes and leaving the one in between open, he didn’t think he’d have to stop. The mule in him took over as him rammed through the toll gate, not slowing down even a tiny bit.


100 KM and an hour and 10 minutes later, he entered the slow, almost still scene of the country side. Surprised at the decent quality of road, he grinned to himself as he swerved to the left first and then to the right to avoid to tiny bumps on the road. It made him sing, it almost felt like grooving to; what was that song?? “Oh! Yes!”; he said as he started singing aloud –

Give me freedom..

Give me fire..

Give me reason..

Take me higher..

………….

Singing songs underneath the sun..

As we dance to the beautiful game..

And together at the end of the day.

We all say..

When I get older..

I will be stronger..

They’ll call me freedom..

Just like a waving flag,

And then goes back and then it goes back..

A brief moment later he brought the T-Man 350 to a halt. He took of his sun glasses and hanged it on his shirt. As he was wiping of the dirt and shmuck from the highway off his face, he saw two kids run up to him and salute him. He smiled and pointed to the T-Man and said –

“Not me! Him! The T-Man 350 – The Thunderbird.”

PS: Yet another rider post inspired whole and soul by the Royal Enfield Thunderbird. Although I think T-Man 350 sounds much cooler :P.. Inspired by the ride(read bliss) to Muchintala to help village folk on Independence Day..