The Second Coming: My Journey Back to Two Wheels

I grew up in Chandigarh, a city where the echo of Royal Enfield Bullet Classics filled the streets. Everyone seemed to adore the thump of the 350, but somehow, I never truly connected with it. My fascination with machines came not from the roads but from screens and printed pages. As a kid, I devoured automobile magazines and spent countless hours playing racing games that fired up an inner spark, the kind of spark that turns interest into obsession.

But dreams often run faster than circumstances. Our family wasn’t well off, so the idea of owning a bike, let alone a Bullet, was out of reach. Yet, I stayed hooked, reading, observing, and learning everything I could about motorcycles. By the time I was 15, I could probably name every model sold in India and the specs of most.

The Dream Begins

In 1999, Hero Honda launched a bike that changed everything - the Hero Honda CBZ. I still remember seeing its ad for the first time. That red machine looked powerful, modern, and unlike anything we’d seen before. It was love at first sight. My heart was already racing before I’d even sat on one.

Those were also the golden years of Yamaha RX100 and RD350, two-stroke legends I wished I could own. My father was an enthusiast too. Back in college, he rode a Yezdi, a Triumph, and a Royal Enfield. Life, however, forced him to hang up his helmet. I silently promised myself that I would live the dream he couldn’t.

In 2000, as I prepared for my Class 10 exams, my father made me a promise: Score above 80%, and I’ll get you a CBZ. That was all the motivation I needed. I worked hard, and when the results came, I’d made it, above 80%. The dream felt within grasp. But life had other plans. A family emergency drained the funds, and the CBZ had to wait. My father offered me a Bajaj Boxer instead, but my heart couldn’t settle. I politely declined.

The First Ride

That year, I inherited my father’s 1985 Bajaj Chetak, a four-geared legend in its own right. It became my ride for the next six years. It wasn’t fast or flashy, but it taught me patience, balance, and humility. Whenever my friends brought their bikes — Shoguns, Shaolins, RX100s, Pulsars. I’d grab every chance to ride them. Each engine note fueled the dream further.

The Fall

In 2006, just as my engineering years were ending, tragedy struck. I was sitting parked on my scooter when a car rammed into me. I woke up in the hospital two days later with a skull fracture and brain injury. My parents were devastated. Recovery was slow and painful. For the next two years, I wasn’t allowed near a two-wheeler. Not even as a pillion. There were dizzy spells, blackouts, and endless frustration.

The Long Pause

By 2008, life had stabilized. I’d recovered fully and started my career in Delhi. My heart still craved a motorcycle, but my parents couldn’t bear the idea. So, I rode what I had, the same old Chetak, now nearly 25 years old. On weekends, I’d wake up early, ride out to the outskirts, and watch the Group of Delhi Superbikers (G.O.D.S) roar past on their machines. I’d stand there, soaking in the sound, the symphony of power and freedom, and quietly tell myself, One day.

Reigniting the Spark

Fast-forward to 2020. The world had come to a standstill. Amid the lockdown, something inside me reignited. I hadn’t ridden in over a decade, and confidence was low. But I needed to feel the rhythm of two wheels again.

So, one morning, I told my wife and son we were going to a bicycle store. I picked up an MTB, and told them, You take the car — I’ll ride this home. That first pedal stroke was electric. It wasn’t horsepower; it was human power, but it felt just as good. I rode that cycle daily for a year, clocking long distances, even 400 km in 24 hours. The endurance, discipline, and joy returned.

The Return of the Ride

Then, in 2021, I finally said it, I’m buying a motorcycle. A week later, a Triumph Trident 660 rolled into my life. I could’ve gone bigger, like a CBR1000RR or Yamaha R1, but I wanted to rebuild my skill safely. The Trident was perfect - agile, thrilling, and forgiving. In just 11 months, I rode over 11,000 km, including a track day. With each ride, the confidence and connection grew.

But riders know how the story goes. The urge for more soon followed.

The Second Coming

That’s when the Speed Triple 1200 RS entered my life. It wasn’t just a purchase; it was a statement — my second coming as a rider. The bond was instant. Over the past three years, we’ve done 30,000 km, from Sunday escapes to long hauls across the country. Every ride begins with one rule - ATGATT (All The Gear, All The Time). Safety, responsibility, and joy, that’s the holy trinity I live by.

In this renewed journey, I also co-founded a community close to my heart, Get Set Throttle, now over 200 riders strong. It’s more than just a club; it’s a family built on shared passion, brotherhood, and throttle therapy.

Ride. Heal. Repeat.

My parents still worry. My wife keeps a gentle watch. But for me, riding isn’t rebellion, it’s meditation. The hum of the engine silences life’s chaos. Every ride is reflection, release, and revival.

The dream that began with a poster of the CBZ has come full circle, only bigger, faster, and deeper.

And yet, one truth remains: one bike is never enough. The mind says wait, the heart says go. Another machine will join the stable someday, but no matter what comes next, the Speedy will always be the “first love of the second coming.”

Ride hard. Ride safe. Cheers to the miles ahead.