Learning to Ride Before Riding

As a kid, machines of all shapes and sizes fascinated me: train locomotives, motorcycles, engines, heavy machinery. If it had an engine, my heartstrings were instantly attached to it.

Motorsport was my first window into this world. Formula 1, MotoGP, and WRC played on DD National on a CRT television. The footage was often shaky, sometimes even black and white. It didn’t matter. Valentino Rossi, Michael Schumacher, and Sebastian Loeb were doing unimaginable things on their machines, and that was enough to hold my attention.

The motorcycles that stayed with me were the Repsol-liveried Honda RC211V and later the Gauloises Yamaha M1 - the first M1, and the bike that proved Rossi could win even away from Honda.

Interestingly, the urge to own a motorcycle wasn’t there yet.

During school, I occasionally commuted on our ageing Honda Activa. Even then, I understood how exposed one was on Indian roads. My dad got me a basic Studds helmet; not the safest, but better than nothing. That early sense of caution stayed with me.

I grew up in Bhopal, a city of old Willy Jeeps, modified Gypsys, and countless Yamaha RX100s. Sportbikes were rare, but on lucky days I’d spot a CBR600RR, a Yamaha R6, a Honda Fireblade or a Yamaha R1. Hearing those engines climb endlessly through the rev range would leave me giddy. I admired them from a distance. That was enough.

In college, after turning 18, my parents agreed to get me a motorcycle. I wanted the newly launched KTM Duke 200, but they weren’t convinced. We settled on a TVS Apache RTR 160, practical, slightly sporty, and honest. A month after my birthday in 2014, my first motorcycle came home. It was meant purely for commuting. The idea of long rides or Sunday breakfast runs hadn’t even crossed my mind.

That changed the day a friend rode over on his Honda CBR250R Tricolor edition, fully geared up. Jacket, gloves, knee guards, and an LS2 helmet. Until then, I had rarely seen anyone wear proper riding gear. He looked right on that motorcycle.

A few months later, I bought my first LS2 helmet from Karol Bagh. On a later trip, I added proper gloves and a riding jacket. From then on, I wore my gear everywhere - college, daily errands, short rides. People stared. In Bhopal, it was still unusual.

For four years, the Apache was my only motorcycle. No ABS. No electronics. Just a barebones machine that quietly taught me restraint, awareness, and respect.

After college, I moved to the United States for my master’s degree. My fascination with machines evolved into cars - from vintage cars to modern hypercars. Yet the idea of owning a proper motorcycle never left.

Then COVID happened, and I moved back home.

Within a month of returning, I bought the motorcycle I had once wanted, a KTM Duke, not the 200 but the 390. Fast, sharp, and unforgiving if disrespected.

It’s been five years since. The Duke has sharpened my riding, taken me to places, and helped me grow into the machine. One of those moments came on track at the Buddh International Circuit; the same circuit I had watched Sebastian Vettel dominate during its Formula 1 years. Riding there felt surreal.

Life, in its own way, had come full circle.

The college-going kid who once wanted a Duke finally got one - not by rushing, but by growing into it.

I didn’t learn to ride fast first.

I learned to ride aware.

Everything else followed.