Relationship is a serious funny word – a symbiosis of personal or professional interdependence and interconnection, human to human, human to animals and other forms. Relationships are constantly blossoming and breaking, and dynamic in nature. Just like a moving train, where passengers alight and exit, so too does it happen in one’s life, from birth unto death, where people join our journey, some for a while, some for long, and some for good. It is said, that everyone is allocated a set time of meeting, loving, living with and leaving one another – and you will meet that person only at that time, not earlier – and for a reason. A reason to pay a debt or be paid back, a reason to bear a loss or be loved, etc.

Holding back my philosophical thoughts, I am going to elaborate on a different kind of relationship that us Parsis and Iranis have – with our vintage / classic cars and motorcycles. Second (and sometimes not!) only to our relationship with fellow humans, this is an often talked about topic in bawa circles. Many including me, have formed everlasting relationships with our beloved motorcycles. This borderline craziness and obsession for our steeds often leads us to finding likeminded people… strangers, who become great friends and advocate camaraderie at a different level.

Across my three-decade-long-and-growing-stronger passion for motorcycling, I have met umpteen bawajis, who, dare I say, have at times prioritized their love for their two-wheelers over their better halves! Then there is the ‘seasonal Parsi’ – like the stages of waxing and waning of the moon, one often sees the quintessential Parsi uncle, greasing and covering his bellowed beauty, prior to the rains. And then, come summer and winter he’d be cleaning, prepping and riding it. For enthusiasts that live on the ground floor, squabbles with their wife are at a spike when the rain Gods decide to have some fun, as the two-wheeled extended family member gets a prized place in the living room, and in some cases, the office!

  Talking of cleaning, I have seen that word taking an all new meaning with some. I have known and still know individuals who clean their motorcycles and cars for nearly four hours! Well, I’ve had my share of this too, wherein the day would begin by applying kerosene or diesel on the engine, then cleaning the motorcycle with automotive shampoo, applying different polishes to buffed, chrome and painted parts… More than the motorcycle’s spanking new look, it was therapy for the soul, a sense of fulfilment, to ride it post cleaning it meticulously with one’s own hands! Though inanimate, to a motorcycle enthusiast, his steed doth breathe, beat and bellow! To some this sound is more enticing than Pavarotti’s – and to others it’s an extension of one’s self. It’s bliss when you’re riding a motorcycle on full, on a beautiful stretch of tarmac – when man, machine (and souls) become one. Sigh…

I wish all my fellow Zoroastrians and their loved ones a prosperous and peaceful New Year!