Archive for October, 2010

True sacrifice never pains

Sacrificing & donation mostly goes as in a single line for most of the people. For most of the people, sacrifice is nothing more than donation.. They believe that giving your leftovers to others is sacrifice.. Sacrifice is often a term that is associated with social service. And is a thing that puffs up the ego of many. Organisations advertise about them serving people, doing benefit to nation… blah blah…most politicians claim that they are sacrifing their lives for the country etc etc…

             Now this is where the problem begins.. If you have ever sacrificed something, you will know that this is often the most undesirable thing that we will ever want to face. we actually run from sacrifices. and there is a very good reason why we fear sacrifices. we fear cos we know that sacrifice is when you part with something that has a lot of value for you. something that you would otherwise have a cat and dog fight to get. This is the essence of sacrifice. It is not necessary that you always lose, cos most of the time that loss is for a something that you believe in and you will feel contended after that. getting confused in the last line??? let me explain.

              My aunt, had a highly successfull career 8 years ago. she was not from a “filthy rich family” but definately well settled. my Uncle had a business of his own. my cousin was very good at studies and there was nothing that she would have wished more. now if you note, I mentioned “HAD” and not “HAS”.Tthe reason is she left the luxury of an air conditioned office, left the successfull career she had, left her comforts behind just because she one day saw that there is more to life than just earning money. She collected her money, pestered the local politicians for some grants, and started an “MAHILA ASHRAM”. Not the one where women are kept untill their cases are resolved but a place where they could be taught the way to live a better life. She used to accompany them to the court and back. My Aunt and Uncle had to many times go to the police station if a problem arose, but she soildered on.

                 The point is not that she is a very great person, or that I am advertising here but that she did those sacrifices of her. She actually felt relief from the fact that she was serving someone who was in crying need.

                 What pisses me off is not that people dont sacrifice things for others, but its the fact that they dont actually sacrifice but they publicise that they do. Mind you, having the best part of the cake and giving the leftovers (which you wont eat) to others is not sacrifice. thats called as waste management.

Sacrifice is when you fight with your boss for a leave, decide to tour to your chilly childhood dream destination, put on the cozy warm leathers, hop on your bike to ride to your favourite destination, and you see a child barely dressed in a chilly day, you kill the plans for the ride and put the child in some school with that money that you had been saving ever since you started riding.

Sacrifice is when you are amidst a ride, extremely hungry, have only the money for the next meal, you see a woman with a new born child but has nothing to eat, and you buy her something to eat instead.

Sacrifice is when you spend the whole evening with your kid watching his favoriote cartoons (which you hate) even though you have your group of friends riding arround and having the fun of their life.

Sacrifice is when you see a old woman cross a road, you pull over, stop your bike, assist her to cross the road. sacrifice is something that you do to help others with no beifit to you except the moral satisfaction..

This list can go on and on and on.. but now coming to the point of  ” It is not necessary that you always lose”.

               What I want to put out here is not that you have to sleep on a bed of thorns to do sacrifice or that you need to do something that rivals mother teresa. no dear, sacrifice actually makes people feel better cos your heart is relieved of the guilt of doing something wrong. But this is only when you really want to sacrifice. if its forced upon you then it becomes a pain. and when it pains, The first thought is get out of this as quick as a mouse running from a cat. And then people look out for shortcuts and degrade the essence of sacrifice and then start relating sacrifice only with pain and suffering.

              So guys sacrifice only when you want to , not because you feel it will publicise you or because you are already doing something and it wont take much from your side to make it look as a sacrifice…

giving what you dont require is not a sacrifice. its as good as throwing garbage in dustbin. Just getting rid of stuff..

Ps: I have not yet sacrificed things for others but as far as sacrificing for my friends and family is concerned, I am damn sure that the things sacrifced were not more important than the person for whom i was sacrificing..


Biking just Rockz…..Go, Rule everyone…

This poem was actually penned down my someone i barely know but i loved the poem.

ps:- If you know the guy who penned this down, please let me know..

so here goes the poem in his words..

Power to ride, rule and rock!

This one goes for the spirit of biking…….

hitting on the road …. and keep on riding….

feeling da rush in the soul i got….. adrenaline gush goes through my heart…

driven by thunder is all what i need….

playing with the devil in case indeed….

pack up yo bags and move up the speed…..

bike is my dragon.. fire in my wheels !!

boyz n girlz…..u got to be mean…….

to push up the limits and your need for speed…..

the road is just like a path to the sky…..

biking like an addict’s gonna make you high…..

set up your mind….this thing aint easy…

its the fire in your heart that drivez you crazy….

breathing the air at a speed 360……

watching no s**t….and losing on yo safety……

the machine is your friend….best on the road….

it would take u till the end…wherever it goes….

bending on the curves or touching on the shores……

biking is what gives my soul remorse..!!

so i made up this point……to jet on the road…..

leave all behind… the race on my own……

emotions on the top…..they alwayz climb..

when i set on my wheels and just start this grind……

i’d make my way myself 2nyt…….

it’s the bike that i need……coz i want to burn the ice !!

so start your journey…… here is your moment….

grab it in style..or it’s gone or stolen…

biking is like a fuel to your fire……

bringz out your devil….fulfills desires….

bike for yourself …or just bike for that fun….

biking just rocks…..go and rule everyone !!

Types of Marketing

 This is how my friend explained me what marketting is all about:- 

You see a gorgeous girl at a party .
You go upto her and say ,"I am very rich. Marry me !
That's Direct Marketing.

You're at a party with a bunch of friends and see a gorgeous girl
One of your friend goes upto her and pointing at you says,
"He is very rich. "Marry him"

You see a gorgeous girl at a party.
You go up to her and get her telephone number.
The next day you call and say ,"HI , I M VERY RICH. MARRY me "

You're at a party and see a gorgeous girl
You get up and straighten your tie, you walk up to her and
pour her a drink. You open the door for her, pick up her bag after she drops it,
offer her a ride, and then say,"by the way, i m very rich. will you marry me ?"

You're at a party and see a gorgeous girl
She walks up to you and says,"You are very rich"

You see a gorgeous girl at a party.
You go up to her and say. "I'M rich.Marry me"
She gives you a nice hard slap on your face.
That's CUSTOMER FEEDBACK !!!!!!!!!!

You see a gorgeous girl at a party.
You go up to her and say. "I'M rich.Marry me"
And she introduces you to her husband.

You see a gorgeous girl at a party with somone you know.
You go up to her and before you say,"I am very rich. Marry me !"
she turns her face towards you......... ......... ..she is your WIFE !!





That's COMPETITION eating into your market share



Bored of the 9-5 office schedule??? Try these…

Note:- If you have any brains/grey matter/top floor of your body, please remove it and read ahead..

One-Point Office Dares
1) Run one lap around the office at top speed.
2) Ignore the first five people who say ‘good morning’ to you.
3) Phone someone in the office you barely know, leave your name and say, “Just called to say I can’t talk right now. Bye. ”
4) To signal the end of a conversation, clamp your hands over your ears and grimace.
5) Leave your zipper open for one hour. If anyone points it out, say, “Sorry, I really prefer it this way. ”
6) While riding in an elevator, gasp dramatically every time the doors open.
Three-Point Dares
1) Say to your boss, ” I like your style ” and shoot him with double-barreled fingers.
2) Babble incoherently at a fellow employee then ask, “Did you get all that, I don’t want to have to repeat it.”
3) Kneel in front of the water cooler and drink directly from the nozzle (there must be a ‘non-player’ within sight).
Five Point Dares  
1) At the end of a meeting, suggest that, for once, it would be nice to conclude with the singing of the national anthem (5 extra points if you actually launch into it yourself).
2) Walk into a very busy person’s office and while they watch you with growing irritation, turn the light switch on/off 10 times.
3) For an hour, refer to everyone you speak to as “Ramu”
4) Announce to everyone in a meeting that you “really have to go do a number two.”
5) While an office mate is out, move their chair into the elevator.’
6) In a meeting or crowded situation, slap your forehead repeatedly and mutter, “Shut up, all of you just shut up!”
7) At lunchtime, get down on your knees and announce, “As God as my witness, I’ll never go hungry again. ”
8) In a colleague’s OUTLOOK Calender , write in the 10 am slot: “See how I look in tights.” (5 Extra points if it is a male, 5 more if he is your boss)
9) Carry your keyboard over to your boss and ask, “You wanna trade?”
11) Posing as a maitre d’, call a colleague and tell him he’s won a lunch for four at a local restaurant. Let him go.
12) Speak with an accent (French, German, Porky Pig, etc) during a very important conference call.
13) Find the vacuum and start vacuuming around your desk.
14) Hang a 2′ long piece of toilet roll from the back of your pants and act genuinely surprised when someone points it out.
15) Present meeting attendees with a cup of coffee and biscuits, smashing each biscuit with your fist.
16) During the course of a meeting, slowly edge your chair towards the door.
17) Arrange toy figures on the table to represent each meeting attendee, move them according to the movements of their real-life counterparts.
And if that wasn’t enough for you.
How to keep a healthy level of insanity:
1) Every time someone asks you to do something, ask if they want fries with that.
2) Put you r waste basket on your desk and label it ” IN ” ..
3) Finish all your sentences with “In accordance with the prophecy. ”
4) Dont use any punctuation
5) Use, too.much; punctuation!
6) As often as possible, skip rather than walk.
7) Ask people what sex they are. Laugh hysterically after they answer.
8) Put mosquito netting around your work area. Play a tape of jungle sounds all day.
9) Have your co-workers address you by your wrestling name, “Hell fire. ”
10) When the money comes out of the ATM, cry “I Won! I Won! 3rd time this week!!! ”

 ps:- I have tried some of these in my office. If you want to be labeled as a straight shooter, you can try these..

You didn’t see me…

I’ll add something that’s been going around by email in the UK among bikers. Sums things up here too! It is from a western U.S. perspective and draws on the unwarranted image that some of the media have portrayed of bikers for the past 40 years or so. Not the happiest of pieces but worth posting.

            I think, It kind of unites bikers and the lifestyle and the difference we feel to the rest of society, who limit the risks they take but take risks with others’ lives.

You Didn’t See Me

I saw you hug your purse closer to you in the grocery store line. But, you didn’t see me put an extra $10.00 in the collection plate last Sunday.

I saw you pull your child closer when we passed each other on the sidewalk. But, you didn’t see me playing Santa at the local mall.

I saw you change your mind about going into the restaurant. But, you didn’t see me attending a meeting to raise more money for the hurricane relief.

I saw you roll up your window and shake your head when I drove by. But, you didn’t see me driving behind you when you tossed your cigarette butt out the car window.

I saw you frown at me when I smiled at your children. But, you didn’t see me when I took time off from work to run toys to the homeless kids.

I saw you stare at my long hair. But, you didn’t see me and my friends cut ten inches off for Locks of Love.

I saw you roll your eyes at our leather coats and gloves. But, you didn’t see me and my brothers donate our old coats and gloves to those that had none.

I saw you look in fright at my tattoos. But, you didn’t see me cry as my children where born and how I have their names written upon my heart.

I saw you change lanes while rushing off to go somewhere. But, you didn’t see me going home to be with my family.

I saw you complain about how loud and noisy our bikes can be. But, you didn’t see me when you were changing the CD and drifted into my lane.

I saw you yelling at your kids in the car. But, you didn’t see me pat my child’s hands, knowing he was safe behind me.

I saw you reading the newspaper or map as you drove down the road. But, you didn’t see me squeeze my wife’s leg when she told me to take the next turn.

I saw you race down the road in the rain. But, you didn’t see me get soaked to the skin so my son could have the car to go on his date.

I saw you run the yellow light just to save a few minutes of time. But, you didn’t see me trying to turn right.

I saw you cut me off because you needed to be in the lane I was in. But, you didn’t see me leave the road.

I saw you waiting impatiently for my friends to pass. But, you didn’t see me…I wasn’t there.

I saw you go home to your family. But, you didn’t see me…Because I died that day you cut me off. I was just a biker…

A person with friends and a family. BUT, YOU DIDN’T SEE ME!!

Ps: The original Author is Unknown. It’s also a reminder to take care out there! Ride free!

Reclaim Your Life

Reclaiming my life..
    let me just start with my Dog. (yes a dog)  It is said that Dogs are the man’s best friend.and they are the best pals when fathfulness is concerned. But is it also true?? or is it the other way round?? They are considered cute when pups but quite ferocious when grown ups. I have been having a dog, a TINY pomerian.. And no one ever cared for it.. Just Fed him, and expected his part of work. A nice non complaining dog..I used to take it to my office daily.. Used to wash it even when it refused.. It accompanied me almost everywhere i went. Heck.. I even prefered it over my gf.. My dog was actually a part of my family.. But as fate would have it.. it finally fell weak, and could not take the pressure of the daily routine. so finally it was deemed useless. The day arrived when it was replaced by a new one, an huge doberman.. I loved the new one.. It was better looking.. it did the work better and people dared not mess up with me on the street..It had the presence felt when it moved and everyone insantly loved it..
    However, there was something missing.. Something that i could not put my finger on.. Something that was gnawing me from the inside.. Something that i was not happy about..
    Then came the day when we were to shift to a new home, and I saw the old trusted steed lying rotting in a corner, demanding nothing.. Not even its fuel.. Nothing at all.. it was just existing without any meaning for its life.. In need of serious attention.. But still did not complain.. just wanting to be taken back in the family. Just one look in the eyes was enough for me . every moment spent with this small dog came back again. every ,moment when it was scared of other dogs. every moment when i chickened out and my dog stood upright.. everything.. Took it to its doctor.. Helped it to be running on its feet again.. And when i finally could muster the courage to lookat it, i found the very familiar welcoming and gratefull look in the eye it, now i found what i was missing.. The void that i had long assumed was a permanent one..
    At this point,you might be feeling sorry for my dog. But hold it.. I will tell you what i regained, but before that, Let me tell you who these dogs really are.. The tiny pomerian mentioned here is my faithfull old CD 100SS. whereas the doberman is my 2 yr old k&n fitted and modified HH HUNK. Both the bikes are basically a motor bolted to a chasis but still they are very different, yet are just sufficient for me. now most of you who have started reding between the lines, stop that cos the best part is yet to come. while many say that the hunk is infinitely better than the cd100, i strongly disagree.
    The pleasure of owning a better modern bike is short lived cos it soon becomes monotonous. you push the starter, it starts. you pull the throttle, it calculates something that only nasa will understand, but will getthe bike moving however bad the conditions are for its operation. these bikes never ask for anything on your part. heck, soon you will have bikes riden by gps and then you wont even have to ride the bike. just chose the location and hit go.. the problem is not the extra luxury. its something called as an involved ride. the new bike forgave me for whatever mistakes i comited. be it the taking corners at wrong speed, riding fast over potholes, ripping at speed not meant for the bike, never losing its composure etc etc.. and i actally loved my bike for this. but one ride on the old bike, and i was astonished that i did now what riding was. it threw me off in the first corner i took, on every pothole, my testies were hammered, my ass cried for mercy, my spine gave away, the bike was worse than a dildo. but it was one hell of a ride. It gave me back the sense of fun in its every stupidity.. While the hunk was good in most of the rides, the cd100 was more thrilling in every ride. While the hunk forgave me for every mistake i made, the cd 100 punished me by scaring the shit out of me. While the inputs for the hunk were unidirectional, cd 100 used to laugh at my stupidity every time i did one. In short, the cd was a more involving ride. Me always on the toes for what the bike might throw at me. The sense of self preservance prevailed more when i rode the cd100 ..
    The bike had a lot of deficiencies, it had to be kicked in a specific manner to get it started, it would stall every time i pulled the throttle wide open, the horn never actually worked, the headlights worked only when it wished to but it never gave away when i needed it the most. I knew exactly what the bike wanted and how much. In short, I loved myself more and yearned to live a bit longer than when i rode any of the modern bikes. The cd had the soul to excite me when it was kicked to life. My heart skipped beats when the bike revved hard. anything over 60 kmph was as good as going insane but thats what me me feel alive. This bike was what i would say the “life reclaimer”. this bike lacked any of the luxuries of riding but hell it was good. Most bikes these days have everything that you want except the soul. The will to live is long lost in our quest for perfection.. my new bike is amongst this breed. maybe i need to wait for it to grow old so that i realise its value but for now, its my old faithfull pomerian is the one taht reclaimed my life.. lets see what works for you people.

Pleasures of motorcycling

The original article by Mr. Sachin Rao, and this article is actually an archive of a post from HARD TORQUE on

The pleasure principle

25 Sep ’02 – Sachin Rao

It was hardly 60 km from Delhi on the NH8 when I pulled into a highway eatery for a break. I’d been holding consistent three-digit speeds for a blissfully long stretch on the Pulsar and a nice cold bottle of water was in order. I dismounted, dumped all my gear on the bike and drank deep. A man of about fifty-five or sixty paying his bill who was watching, looked at my numberplate and stepped towards me.

“Where are you coming from?”

“Been on a Rajasthan tour.”

“Oh? How many kilometres?”

“1,650 so far.”

“By motorcycle? Alone??”

No, I wanted to say, this bike, luggage and all that gear, it’s just a prop, my gang of loud friends with a boombox and party hats are just behind with the trailer van. What does it look like?

“Yeah,” I said instead.

“Then what is the pleasure?” he asked quizzically.

I only smiled as he walked to his Esteem VX, got in and slowly drove off.

I’ll tell you exactly what the pleasure is, Mr Esteem-Driving Gentleman.

The pleasure is when you finish your day’s ride, and reach in one piece. You’re the smallest vehicle on the road, and you’ve survived.

The pleasure is when you take off your wristwatch, and see a band of untanned skin.

The pleasure is when your motorcycle and you move as one single united form. Whatever shape the road takes, whichever end of the compass it leads to.

The pleasure is when you use your hands, arms, thighs, knees and feet to steer.

The pleasure is when you take off your riding jacket for a break, and feel the breeze dry your sweat.

The pleasure is when you sing to yourself on an empty road. You’re the world’s best rock star.

The pleasure is when your rear wheel slides, and you bring it back, when the front wheel lifts, and you take your time bringing it back.

The pleasure is when you cut through air, at 50 kph or 100.

The pleasure is when you reach a place you’ve never been before, and someone you’ve never seen before asks you for a ride. And comes back grinning.

The pleasure is when you wave to village kids, and they wave back.

The pleasure is when you almost, almost fall. But don’t.

The pleasure is when you fight the wind, and win.

The pleasure is when you get up that narrow path for the view you’ll never forget.

The pleasure is when you view the world at an angle.

The pleasure is when you eat bugs at 90 kph.

The pleasure is when you look at a dust-streaked face in the mirror after a 500 km ride, and don’t want to wash up.

The pleasure is when your pillion moves with you.

The pleasure is when you can see the petrol after a top-up.

The pleasure is when your throttle hand has calluses.

The pleasure is when you jump a speedbreaker.

The pleasure is when you stop to help push a stranded car to the side of the road.

The pleasure is when you stop at the smallest of towns, and somebody asks you technical specifications.

The pleasure is when your book of roadmaps gets dog-eared, rain-splashed, tea-stained.

The pleasure is when you give a stranger a lift.

The pleasure is when you have battle-scars.

The pleasure is when you can feel the cool morning and the hot afternoon, the light rain and the damp fog.

The pleasure is when you leave four-wheeler traffic standing in a jam.

The pleasure is when you aren’t lulled by an air-conditioner.

The pleasure is when you are free. Open. Independent. Liberated.

The pleasure is when you are a biker. But you’ll never know how that feels, will you, Mr Esteem-Driving Gentleman?

%d bloggers like this: