‘One Life to Ride – A Motorcycle Journey to the High Himalayas’ by Ajit Harisinghani

rideAfter ‘Don’t Ask Any Old Bloke for Directions’, I went on a downloading spree of biking books. Started with this one, the main reason was the ‘Himalayas’ in the name. Mountains have always fascinated me. Coming from a place where the land is flat and below sea level to boot, the first sight of mountains was pure awe. The hills of Idukki paled in comparison to the Snow Lord’s abode is something that I realized a few years later. Since then, Leh, Ladakh and The Valley of Flowers have been beckoning from far.

Coming back to the book, the author, in his mid fifties, decides to go on a trip of his dreams, all alone. Based out of Pune, he first makes a trip to Goa, to attune himself and his bike to the long and arduous trip later.

The book goes in a somewhat documentary style, describing places and people that he meets on the way, adding his thoughts to it. A couple of incidents, or rather people caught my heart. The first one was a fakir , a true one, cycling his way to Mecca from Mumbai. At times, profound thoughts turn into words and comes from least expected sources. To the author’s question of how long it takes to reach Mecca, the wise man replies,

“Sirf badan ko wahan le jaana hai.

Rooh to wahin rahtee hai.” *

The part that  stays with me is his meeting with the jawans in Kashmir. There is one incident where the author is frightened by a group of young men rushing at him, only to realize they were soldiers from the Maratha regiment and they had run to him seeing the MH number plate on his bike. They take him to their barracks and he realizes as he talks to them,

“The moment to moment stress is taking its toll. They try to camouflage it by an outward show of bravado but these young men, so far away from their homes, standing around me, look like lonely children marooned in a dangerous world.”

The longing for home, the need to talk to someone, the catch in their throats, the knowledge that this might be their last day, and the feeling of not knowing whom you can trust keep resonating in your heart long after you’re done reading . I was left with a feeling of guilt and despair at the world that we so take for granted.

Otherwise, the narration seemed quite ordinary in most places. Not one that tugged at my heart.

Verdict – A light read, may delight if you are interested in travel, not so much for a bike enthusiast.

3/5 for the story and narration and 5/5 for those encounters with the jawans.

 

(* He was merely transporting his body to where his soul already lived)

 

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About wanderlustathome

Dabbling in numbers for a living while dreaming of words all the while.

Posted on April 16, 2014, in 3*, 4*, Bike, Food, Life, Memoirs, Philosophy, Real Life Stories, reflections, Travelogue. Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Interesting! Makes me realise I have never read a book about biking. 🙂

  2. Ah a travelogue and that too to the Himalayas. This I must read. Too bad the narration is not too good !

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