It was a cool late February evening in Delhi. The rain which somehow curbed the heat from taking over indeed played its role well. The weather was perfect. Everything looked green and golden with the setting sun. We took the dirt track along the lonely river. A lonely path right in the middle of the busy city. With the evening sun against my face and the wind in my hair, I snuggled up against the man I love, as I rode behind him in his 10 year old hand-me-down scooter. Now, scoot's one of a kind. Though ancient, it still gets you from point A to point B, with
weekly occasional breakdowns. Well, the loud 'clucking' sound of this 'vintage' scooter didn't do much to spoil my moment as I was too busy taking in the moment- the man whose warm back I snuggled up to, the golden evening, the dirt track and the quiet waters glistening against the setting sun...
|The dirt track! Perfect for an evening ride!!|
|The quiet waters against the evening sun!! Sigh!!|
Okay!! Are we done praising the beauty of the evening??
The Lonely River is but a dirty Delhi drain!! :( :(
A huge nala whose stink will make sure you wash your face and brush your teeth (twice!) by the time you reach home.
Can't tell from the pic. Can you? Well, All that glitters is not gold! What you see can fool you at times!
And as for the 'vintage scooter', he threw his weekly tantrum and died down at every single kilometer for the last 7 kms. The campus security even tried helping us with amused grin plastered all over their faces, to no avail. Charming Scoots!! Phabo, on his way back, almost got arrested as old Scoots decided to go silent right in the middle of the traffic!! Talk about Old John Faithful . NOT!!
If it were up to me, I would have gotten rid of it to the kabari walla who frequents his area. Why?? I don't have problems with his rusted covers and clucking hums. I don't lust after shiny black motorbikes and I absolutely adore men on 'noble' steeds. But scoots, in his worst, will make you hold on to your dear life in an emergency room in the hospital. A two-inch stitch scar right in the ribs will be just one of the souvenirs of his fits. To let you in on a lil' secret, the owner's medical bills in total already came up to thrice the price worth of Scoots! Have I mentioned that Scoots throws really bad tantrums!? Aahh!! Wish I have a decent shot of Scoots to upload!
And of course, the cool rider would give me his trademark acid stares complete with the chawngkawr eyes if he ever came across this post!
On my defense, Scoots or no Scoots... I adore you still! :)