The Falling Numbskull

16th July 2007
Since I joined CSC, I have had a lot of changes around me. To start off, I started writing blog’s, which is totally unlike me (as I have no writing experience from the past, and frankly I hate writing). I lost my leisure time with friends, who are still in college/institutes and who hang out every f****** day (minus me). Now, I finally (yet painfully) had to give up on computer gaming and most noticeably, I have no time to watch (let alone play) my beloved sport ‘football’ on TV. All or most of it is down to the fact that I have to devote 9 and half hours of my precious time in the office. During my college days I used to bunk most of my classes so there was no issue of missing out on anything from my action packed day. Even with this life consuming “working hours”, I have managed to sort most of the things out by calling my friends after my shift ends (which is quite late since I am in EMEA shift) and they happily oblige. So we all end up reaching home by 12 to 1 at night, much to the disappointment of our parents. I have joined the CSC football team, where I will get a chance to rub my shoulders with some of the best footballers in the corporate world. It’s not so easy to give up on your passion and I thank the CSC team for accepting me as one of their own and letting me continue my love for the sport. So long story short, everything was falling back to place again except one thing, the working hours were still nine and a half hours.

During the induction period in CSC, we were being called in the most frustrating time slot which is the normal shift of 0900 to 1830 hours (no offence FSG/GTS guys). I mean you won’t get a CSC cab for this time slot and you will miss out on most of the excitement of the day. I literally used to drag my self up from the bed at 07:30 morning, un-willingly take a bath and run after several jam-packed buses to get to CSC (15 minutes late) and by the time I would get home, all the energy would be drained out of me and I would not dare to step out of the house again! That was exactly what I did, day after day, week after week and it was kinda getting to me. I used to complain all day (or whatever left of it anyway) to my parents that I want more allowance to travel by a rickshaw instead of a bus. Actually, I didn’t mind the packed buses (as I have ‘been there, done that’ all throughout my college life), it was just that I wanted some more cash to spend on fast food, cold drinks and you know… useless stuff.

I’ll admit it myself; I can be really annoying when I am complaining about something. Especially when I think I am on a brink of getting through to my parents (I have special powers, I know when my parents are going to break) and one day it finally happened, they gave in to the combination of my constant plea’s and nagging, but the result of my efforts was something of a shock to me. Out of the blue my dad came out with a solution, he said “If you really want to get home early, I could get you a bike tomorrow”.

For around half an hour I stood there pondering on what my dad just said, then as it started to sink in, I finally realized on what he just said. He was going to get me a motorcycle, which was certainly a surprise to me as my dad is a doctor and he has seen a countless teenagers die or permanently damage there limbs riding on a bike. He and my mum (who is also a doctor), used to tell me all day how a bike can be really dangerous for guys at my age and to a point they were right, teenagers ride with there heart (and their adrenalin pumping) rather than using their head.

I could see it in her eyes; my mum was definitely disappointed with my dad’s verdict (solution); but when my dad makes up a decision, he sticks to it like an adhesive. Half-excitingly I went out and told my friends about what I am going to get as a present from my dad. Every one of them started to vent out their disappointment by using some “un-holy” language which I can not write in this blog. Their biggest concern was that if I get a bike I would not be able to travel with the group. I mean a bike can seat only 2 (or in some cases 3) passengers at a time and we were a total of 5 guys (sometimes more). It was a big blow to my dreams and I know they were right about this. Getting a car (my mum’s choice) was out of the question as we have serious parking issue in my apartment. I geared myself to tell my dad that I can do without a bike and then it suddenly happened, my dad said “Get ready we are going to buy a bike today.” I knew at that point that if I tell my dad about the change in plan’s he will kill me there and than, as he makes his decisions after a lot of considerations.

Within a couple of hours I had a spanking new Bajaj Pulsar 150 CC standing outside my home. It was claret in color and it had the new digital dial which looks kinda cool. I stood there admiring the beauty head to toe and then all of a sudden this uncle from the top floor walks unto me and said “Why don’t you give it a test ride?” It suddenly occurred to me, ‘I don’t know how to ride the damn bike’. Uncle gave me a wired look (which I am used too) and asked me “what do you mean?” I rephrased my previous dialogue and said that I have never sat on a bike let alone ride it. This time he was swept of his feet and half-frustratingly poked me onto the bike. Like a field Marshall in a gulf war ordering his troops, he ordered me to Drive. Anxiously I tried to force the key in, only to realize that it was the key for the helmet lock, I fumbled with the keys again and this time got it right. I turned it and the digital screen lit up, it looked beautiful but I had no time what so ever to admire it as my dear top-floor uncle was shadowing me. I reached for the kick start and suddenly like roar of thunder I heard him scream “Use the auto-start for god’s sake”. I thought that was that, I had no idea where the auto-start was. Frantically I pushed all the buttons I could see in the dash board and finally I struck gold, the engine roared and I realized that I had an actual live running motor under me. I was feeling proud of myself to get this far but just like all of my short-lived glory moments, this one came to an end pretty quickly too. I got my next orders, “put it in first gear”, I suddenly recalled the Bajaj dealer telling me something about the new gearing system in this new version of Bajaj Pulsar with the first gear going front down and the rest of them going towards the other direction. I put my technical brain to use, did some mathematical hypothesis and finally made sense of what the dealer said. I successfully latched on the first gear in my first attempt (I knew how to drive a car so I know when to hold the clutch and when to release it and incidentally for some strange bizarre reason I knew where to clutch was). By now I was over the moon, I felt like I was the king of the world at that time, I was invincible, I could do anything and once again, just as I was living in the glory days, a heavy hand of field Marshall crashed with my head. I had new orders (more of reprimanding) “Get the bike off the stand first you idiot!”

I was feeling smaller than an ant at that moment, I took the bike off the stand being careful not to let go of the clutch. I managed to pull this stunt off without a sweat (but this time I didn’t have the stomach to feel proud of my astonishing achievement). This time the order was loud, simple and clear “DRIVE!!!” Just as the order came in, I turned the accelerator let go of the clutch and almost ended up doing a wheelie on my first biking experience, it bounced two times and the engine burped its way to a stop. By this time, ‘General Uncle’ was literally pulling hair out of his already bald head. He calmed himself down and told me in a surprisingly soft voice “Treat the accelerator as a child; you don’t have to beat the life out of it.” In my second, third, fourth and fifth attempt I couldn’t get the bike to move 2 meters from the starting point. Every time I turned it on and let go of the clutch the bike will jump and stop. The General (uncle) finally admitted his defeat and bowed his head in shame while going back to his floor. All the jerking and mumbling of the bike engine had got my tummy rumbling too. I put the bike on stands and went to the near by market place to have my favorite Kabab Kathi Roll. Hmmmmm, you can forget about everything else when you’re having it.

It took me about 2 months to get the bike rolling more then 2 feet in a single attempt and all of a sudden it was happening for me, I realized that “I can finally ride a bike!!” Occasionally driving my mum’s car I already had the traffic sense with me. So I decided to take the bike out of the apartment for a change. I wobbled with my bike towards the apartment gate and the gate keeper gratefully opened the bigger gate to let me out. He had a look of a soldier giving one last salutation to his fellow comrade who is going to meet his inevitable death in the war. I looked at him straight in the eyes than bowed my head to acknowledge his concern for me and soon after I was on the open road. I stopped the bike in front of the apartment gate put on the right side indicator and turned the accelerator. I was finally cruising…

Within the next couple of weeks I started gaining confidence on my abilities as a biker. I constantly started to touch the 80 KMPH mark and started doing some simple stunts like letting go of the steering handle and standing on the bike (while driving of course). Confidence was oozing through me at that moment; and next Saturday I decided to take my bike to the football training session all the way to Noida Sector – 21 Stadium.

13th October 2007
I woke up early that day and I couldn’t control my excitement. I just felt like putting on my pajamas and ride my bike all the way to the stadium. My mum asked me to calm down, brush my teeth and board a bus to stadium instead. I gave her the ‘Com’on MOM…!’ look and begged my way to get the bike keys off her. I put on my helmet for the very first time in the fear that thullas (cops) might fork 600 bucks out of me if they saw me without it. I was also extremely careful not to over speed in the highway as you never know from where a traffic police might pop out and book you. The traffic was very clear as it was still 6 in the morning. I could feel the effects of early winter arriving in Delhi as cold breeze swept across my bare hands and thighs. But at that moment nothing could calm my excitement. I kept saying to myself “WOW!!! I am riding my bike out of the city”. When I reached ‘Kondli’s Noida more’ I felt some jerks as the road wasn’t laid out properly I expertly lowered my speed to conquer the road and after a while, I was presented (for my efforts) with a clear road again. I reached the stadium and excitedly told some of the guys about the biking experience I had till Noida. They all gave a momentarily indifferent smile and turned back to warming up for the session. After the practice session ended I decided to take my bike to one of my CSC colleague’s place. I called him before I started to take off to his place and I told him I had a surprise in store for him. I called him again after reaching there and I could see a sense of relief (and some pride too) in his eyes when he saw a helmet in my hand. I have been telling him for ages that I got a bike but I don’t know how to ride it and now I was finally there at his place, in the flash with my bike with me. I helped him and his roommate to cook some breakfast and started having it. For some strange reason the food tasted really good (contrary to my cooking abilities) that day. I literally wiped the plate clean as I was really hungry after the grueling football session. I decided to leave early as one of my friends back at my place had invited me to his friends place in the evening. So I bid adieu to my CSC colleagues; who for some apparent reason were chanting the ‘Drive Carefully’ mantra over and over again. I said “OK baba!!” to both of them and I hesitatingly put on my helmet.

The Crash (13th October 21, 2007)
While on the road, I was thinking about what I could have done better in the practice session and how I can improve my game and then suddenly I saw a fatal accident. It appeared to me that a blue-line bus (what else could it be??) went right over an elderly person. But later I realized (as I saw the guy wobbling to his feet) that he just fell of the bus. It was a horrible site, he was bruised and he had a lot of visible cuts. As a huge crowd started to accumulate (typical India) I turned the accelerator and started moving on to avoid the inevitable traffic jam. Just as I took the Sector-8 turn my cell started ringing I put up the indicator to left and eased the bike to a halt. I took out my phone and saw the number flashing, it was my mum. She called me to check on me as I was a bit late that day. She also said that she got a miss call from someone and she wondered if it was me. I assured her that I’m doing fine and I will be home within half an hour, I started my bike again and at this time it was 1100 hours, which means the traffic was at its peak. All commuters were hustling and bustling to get to their respective work places as early as possible. In front of me, were some heavy vehicles moving at a snail’s pace. I overtook a couple of them in the Sector-6 road as the road is quite wide and soon after I seized the opportunity and overtook another one in the ‘Kondli more’. As I was going towards Gazipur I realized that there’s only one bus in front of me now and crossing this hurdle would mean that I would have a clear road towards my home. I tried to cut from the right side of the bus, but the on-coming traffic in a one way route prevented me from doing it. I saw several other bikers trying to do that as well. Some expert riders zipped through the right of the bus on to the clear path and some other riders like me were left behind. Suddenly near ‘Gazipur more’, I saw a guy in his Hero Honda Splendor plus, zip though the left of the bus and on to the clear path. Every bone in my body was saying not to disobey the traffic rules by taking that cut, but I had promised my mum I’ll reach home early. So I decided to take the left turn anyways, just as I was about to successfully take over the bus I suddenly got a feeling that I was flying. I knew there and then that something was not right (duh!). The next thing I know I was doing somersaults in the middle of the road before sliding some 15 meters away from my bike. It was official; I had an accident driving 50 KMPH trying to overtake a bus. It was probably because of some sand lying on the road which I failed to notice which would have made my bike to skid and dislodge me. Luckily my bike landed in the side of the road and I being the unlucky one, was in the middle of the road. Realizing my situation, I jumped right back on my feet and scrambled towards the safety of the embankment. The very first thing that raced through my mind was “Is my Sony Ericsson K790i OK”. I searched through my pockets and sighed a breath of relief when I found it intact. By then, I noticed the crowd gathering around me. One guy came unto me and said “It was a horrible sight; I saw you take 3 rounds in mid air. I’m pretty sure you have broken several bones”. Some other guy lifted my dismantled helmet and gave it to me; he asked if I was alright or not. I replied that I was fine and he headed off immediately. Another guy was trying to lift my bike which is undoubtedly quite heavy, so he was failing miserably. I rushed through the crowd and helped him lift the bike right up again. Strange enough I was feeling absolutely no pain at all, besides a slight burning sensation in my shoulder. After I lifted the bike; one guy grabbed hold of my wrist and turned it around so that my palm faces upwards. It was in total mess, a chunk of my skin had fallen off and I could see my muscles pumping blood out like anything. It started to hurt from there on, one guy pointed at my right arm which was in an even worse condition. The skin in my right arm had pealed off and it was bleeding like hell. I tried to board my bike again and get back to my mommy but the guys out there stopped me. They said I was in no condition to drive. They asked me to call up on my parents or some sibling from there, to which I replied “I don’t have any brothers, my sis is in Chandigarh and my parent’s don’t know how to ride a bike.” But they were insisting that I call someone up, I lifted my wounded hand upside down to show them that I was perfectly fine but the deluded guy who said I had some broken bones in me was persistent. He said, you have some internal injuries which you can not feel right away and he also claimed that it would take time to get my head balanced (?) again. So I had no choice but to wait! Seeing that I seemed OK, most of the crowd started to dissipate (looking disappointed that it was not a bigger commotion). While I was waiting I got a chance to see my helmet, it was completely torn from one side and I could see the inner foam and thermocol. Then it started to sink in, if I had not worn my helmet; that could have been my head. As I tried to clear the disturbing image out of my head I started feeling a burning sensation on my right leg calf muscle, soon I realized it was nothing to worry about as I had just managed to brush it against the road. After 15 long agonizing minutes the deluded guy came back to me and asked if I had felt any broken bones by now to which I said (a bit annoyingly) “No”. Hesitatingly he let me go; asking me to be extra careful while going back home and not to exceed the speed of 20 KMPH, unwittingly I agreed just to get away from there. While going back I could see blood dripping from my palm and my right arm, but my shoulder was hurting me the most. I got blood all over the accelerator of the bike, but at least it was OK; responding with the first touch of the ignition button. After getting back home I casually parked my bike in the tightest of corners went back home (where the door was open) and screamed “Mommmmmmmy! I had an accident and a serious one too”, my mom not taking me seriously at first came to the drawing room and when she saw my right hand dripped with blood she almost fainted. I tried cracking some jokes to make the situation a little better but I couldn’t think of any. To my relief she did well to retain her consciousness and started scrambling through the dinning room cupboard for some antiseptic. She found some ointment and quickly cleaned my wounds with it using cotton. It was burning like hell but I did pretty well to hold back my scream. She then quickly took some money and rushed out to get some anti-tetanus injection (ATI). Mum asked me to wash up while she’s out. I went to the bathroom and scanned my body from head to toe using the full length mirror; I made some body building postures and tried some different types of grins in the mirror. I laughed at myself for being a jerk and turned on the shower, as the water trickled through my body I had an unbearable pain in my right shoulder. The pain was so bad that I could have fainted there and then. I turned my head back to see the source of the pain and I saw that a huge chunk of skin was missing from my shoulder. The road had ripped through my jersey and taken some skin along with it. I couldn’t move my right hand at all at that moment. With my other hand, I turned off the shower and bathed the old fashion way using a mug and a bath tub. I avoided putting water in the wounds as it would pain like hell if even a single drop of water touched it. I carefully wiped my self up and by the time I finished dressing up in my under wears; mom was back. She injected me with the ATI and soon after I called up my colleagues from CSC. I wanted to avoid any kind of tension so I started with the high note (I got a tad too excited if you ask me) “Guess what guys?? I have had an accident”. One of the roommate immediately started scolding me by saying “What the f*** did you get yourself into.. You idiot!” He was still mumbling something when the other roommate took the phone off him and asked me if I was doing alright. I told him I was feeling better than ever before and started laughing. To which he replied in a very calm voice “I told you!! You should drive properly”. Feeling the tension, I convinced him that my injuries weren’t that bad and soon after he asked me to get some rest. I instead called up a couple of my friends and told them what happened; I got a lot of dressing-down from everyone and all of them asked the same question “Does your mom know about it?” I laughed it out and as soon as I kept the phone the guys started to come to my place. By than my friend from CSC had published this news to couple more of my colleagues and they too started calling up to (you guessed it) scold me!! I cracked a couple of jokes with some of my pals who were there to support me and all the excitement was now subsiding.

After everything was done and dusted, I ended up learning three things from this episode,
1. Your parents and friends are always there to help you out when you are in the deepest of shits.
2. Be prepared to be reprimanded like hell when you get into an accident.
3. ALWAYS wear a helmet while riding in a two wheeler; it just might save you freaking life.

After this incident, I promised my mum I will not drive my bike till 2 weeks at least and on the next Monday (2 days after the accident) my cab driver called me up and said that he won’t be able to pick me up due to some engine failure. I had an evil grin on my face as I picked up the keys for my bike. My mum did try to stop me putting her foot down, but I have amazing convincing powers. I bought a cheap helmet from a local roadside “helmet wala” and drove extra carefully to the office. I had a story to tell to all my colleagues that day and I did just that! Some wondered how stupid I can be bringing my bike to the office after all what happened, but I re-assured them; I’m not just any stupid, I am down right Numbskull!! :D

The End

21st October 2007
Today my parents went out of town for a week and I took the bike all the way to Ansal Plaza (which is a good 25KM from my place). I know it’s not much but that’s the furthest I have traveled in my bike till now and the best part is that I FINALLY KNOW HOW TO RIDE MY BIKE!! :D

Kushal Kumar Brahma,
Production Engineer - Mainframe
CSC India



* This is a true story based on the life of Kushal Kumar Brahma. All rights reserved, any attempts to copy this story or print it illegally will be severely punished by some stupid court who has nothing else to do.