Today Social Mela is presenting a travel memoir from Amit Kumar about his journey from Kanyakumari to Kashmir, He is fearless biker who is die hard adventure freak.
“Pain is temporary, Regret is forever”
My journey to glory, battling pain, distress, uncertainty and every other odd. It was always a dream to ride the whole length of my country on my motorbike. Years by years went by but I couldn’t do it, something or the other came in my way. But this time I was adamant, i had decided cometh what may, I shall live my dream. My dream to stand tall with the tricolour in hand at the world’s highest motorable road. To add up more misery, just few days before my scheduled date, I was diagnosed with peripheral spondylosis, the pain was unbearable, i was surviving on heavy dose of pain killers, I had again almost given up on the ride. Even I went bankrupt, and was about to give up on the ride. Few sleepless nights and restless days and I couldn’t think anything beyond that dream, no plans, no finance, nothing certain, I took my bike and headed for ‘Kanyakumari’.
It was that part of year when most parts of India would be affected by flood, it was raining cats and dogs, rested for a day and than began my upward journey. Got myself inked on my forearm saying “Pain is temporary, regret is forever”, something which would keep motivating me and let me ignore my pain. Things started falling into places, after reading my posts, few friends stood up to support me financially, half my tension vanished. The ride through rain went smoother. Bengaluru was my first pitstop, almost like 700 Kms on first day. I stayed at my cousin’s place, they took care of my food and rest and few words of motivation. Next day I started the journey early to skip the heavy Bengaluru traffic. A small breakfast stop and rest time i was on saddle. Bored of the highways, seeking for some action , I took the jungle route via srisailam and haulted for lunch, had a narrow miss, almost on the verge of falling into the creek when an outrageous truck driver had lost its control. Thank fully my guardian angel was watching over me. Vizag it was for the night hault. Day 3 was going to be special, woke up early, revved hard and soon there was a board saying “Welcome to Odisha”, nostalgia ran over, I could smell home, it feels special to step into my own land.
“Knock knock”, door opened , tears of happiness, mom hugged me, it was a pleasant surprise for her. Normal lecture as usual, to refrain from such risky long rides and what followed was some great food. Dad was happy too, he always stood behind me , no matter how adventurous or stupid I was. A peaceful sleep and I had to rush early in the morning. I had to reach Delhi as soon as possible , speed was my weapon, rolled hard and non stop, touched my max speed of 173, I was a happy soul, flying without wings. Just when I was about to enter Delhi, misfortune struck, had a fall trying to escape the cattles, thank god to those gears , I was bruisless, but what had happened took a toll on my motorbike, the crash damaged the handle and the fairing. It was impossible to ride with it to Ladakh. The world went blank for me. I couldn’t understand what just happened. I went clueless. Sat down by the side of highway , thinking what to do. Rode the bike to the nearest service centre, dropped it there, rushed to a bike rent shop.
I hired a royal Enfield, that would suit the best for the rest of the journey as the road would turn nightmare after manali. Till manali there was no problem what so ever. And then the real test began, it was cold, that aggravated my pain even more. Things started getting difficult. But to take away my pain Mother nature blessed me with some breath taking view. i was mesmerised, it was bliss. Night hault at Jispa, which was a must, to rest and acclimatise. Great food , good company and the good times rolled. Few more bikers joined me for rest of my journey. Roads became worse and climate became harsh, oxygen level dipped drastically, our moment got slow. One bike had a fall too, little bit of first aid and some motivational lecture which i had been so used to in academy was enough to make them charged up again. We rode through the beautiful valley, the river was our company. Breathtaking views, snow capped hills in the horizon, random pastures of grass, It was all magical. Just like I had entered a dream land. 14 the of august it was and by evening we reached the city of Leh. Had a great time at the hotel room, thankfully the military rum and the hot water absorbed most of my pain. Great company made it even easier. Independence day it was the next day, the night was restless, I was so close to achieving my dream. All i could do that night was picturise myself at the Khardungla Top with a tricolour in hand. The city looked beautiful with the lovely shower of sun and Indian flag all around. There was a rally from Leg to Khardungla, I was invited to join, without any hesitation, I started off my last leg of journey to the world’s highest motorable road, India’s northern most point. There was a flurry of trip colour at the top. We reached Khardungla. A moment of Joy, pride, satisfaction and nostalgia. Something I would cherish forever. Yes I had done it, one of the most difficult ride, the K2K, I had just done it, and that too on an Independence day, just like I scripted. Tricolour in one hand, helmet in other hand, I felt like I had won a war, a feeling which is impossible to describe, just like Sachin tendulkar showing his bat to the crowd in wankhede after a century and the whole stadium had erupted in joy and applauding. I had no one but the majestic Himalayas to applaud me and saying “well done son, I am proud of you”. I had won, i defeated pain and all uncertainties. Goosebumps all over, I was proud and overwhelmed.
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Thank you! Signing off
-Team Social Mela