A flight without wings is what Gasha Aeri achieves as she and the Mahindra Flyte paint the town red Photography: Sanjay Raikar“A car travelling at an average speed of 160 km/h will take 29 million years to reach the closest star.”
A flight without wings is what Gasha Aeri achieves as she and the Mahindra Flyte paint the town red Photography: Sanjay Raikar“A car travelling at an average speed of 160 km/h will take 29 million years to reach the closest star.”
Really, an empty mind is definitely a crappy place, if not a devil’s workshop and mine was wandering in another universe! Not that we have such leisurely weekdays all the time, but after successful completion of all the tasks at hand, that day was extraordinarily free. But not for long. Minutes later I heard the second set of golden words from my boss’ mouth, the first one being, “You’re hired!” The whole office seemed technicoloured again after those moments of bored black-and-white when he announced that yours truly would get a ride (with a tankful) and some cash in hand to do an interesting story for the upcoming issue. “An Official Pampering Day,” I said to myself and headed to meet my partner for the task – a scarlet red Mahindra Flyte. My technicoloured day got a little glitter too, as my ride was not just good looking, but, thanks to the variomatic transmission, very
comfortable to nudge my way through city traffic too.And what can be more interesting than an account of the weekday when the world turned and toiled in their office chairs and spent just another day in their cubicle, while I made merry around the city.So,the next day was to be marked in my calendar as the Official Pampering Day (OPD, for short). Just to celebrate my release from the shackles of a routine weekday morning, I made the OPD’s morning special with an early morning jog. A bottle holder in the front stored away my sipper and I rode swiftly to the joggers’ park making the day’s start better with my red Flyte. As my fellow joggers in crumpled T-shirts and faded shorts helped their poodles do the business, I parked the Flyte amid a crowd of other odd coloured two-wheelers and headed for my first run in months. The idea of a morning jog sure sounded very healthy and good in my mind, but my lazy legs refused to support the upper torso for even the first few metres. Well, you can’t really blame them, they’ve had a habit of supporting my bulk for only a few steps and not beyond. Hurriedly, I finished my crash course in jogging in just a few metres and returned pleading to Flyte to bear me back home. Farewells and good luck to my fellow joggers and hope their flab vanishes soon
or at least they ‘feel’ fit and healthy.After that gruelling run, my body demanded a quick and immediate supply of nutrition. Meaning, breakfast! Soon after that, I made my way to the city which awaited me with all its grandeur and show and kick-started the day. Fuel indicator smiling at full, I beat the morning traffic with the light weight and quick acceleration of the Flyte.This holy time of the year being sale season, all my ‘shopaholic’ brothers and sisters would pull shame at me if I didn’t mark my attendance at the malls. Some fruits of my day’s shopping hung merrily from the front hook, while others got stored away under the seat. Another level of convenience achieved here!
Compact in size, the Flyte was easy to park on those busy streets and when the lanes got really narrow and required me to pick my ride to cross through those dug up roads, the light weight won songs of praise from me. The suspension felt good for city riding, especially when the roads in our country aren’t exactly that even and often surprise us with a bump or two. Even on the lanes where one finds difficult to find enough oxygen to breathe, the Flyte made its way out without any trouble.
Being a girl’s ride, the Flyte wasn’t very hungry for fuel either. The tankful lasted over 200 km. After riding a geared bike all this while, a day off from the hassles of gear shift and the luxury of front footboard and under-seat storage, the Flyte was a refreshing change from the routine.
Much before I could realise, the clock struck seven and it was time for Cinderella to run back home before the beast of evening traffic got unleashed. The headlamp threw the beam to quite a distance and night riding woes were also solved. Thus came to a happy end my dream day of officially being working, but not really working, something every employee wishes to achieve before they retire. I wish this OPD gets stretched to some more days. Sigh, the human heart never stops asking for more.
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