Borrowed Ride

There are two types of people in this world. People who drive a bike (anything that has two wheels and runs on an engine e.g. motorcycle, scooter, scooty qualify as a bike) and people who sit as a pillion on the bike.
Members of the first community are characterized by the typical snootiness, the source of which the fact that they claim they are always in the driver’s seat. Damn possessive about their machine, they wont let the pillion touch the vehicle; forget about actually letting the pillion drive it. They claim that the pillions are the second fiddlers, not capable and suitable for the hot seat.
And then there are the pillions. The reason that there are so many members of this clan is because these people either don’t own a bike or are too chicken hearted to drive one. Some pillions just submit to the bossy ways of the members of the first clan, blandly nodding to all the whims and ways of these snobs.
Still, there are some pillions who actually enjoy the whole process of sitting on the rear seat of the bike. They claim that they get the best view; putting forward the logic that the person driving the bike has to perpetually look in the forward direction, with occasional glances to left and right when approaching a curve. And they themselves can look in whatever direction they feel like. And the claim is justified to some extent. When that fine girl in the car is next to you in a slow moving traffic, the pillion can give that fullest and meanest of stares, whereas the poor biker cannot afford to do so. Add to that the laxity of traffic rules that force only the person driving the bike to wear a helmet; the poor guy is turned into “just one of them”. Ala the batsmen in a live telecast of a cricket match, don’t all of them look just the same. On the other hand, the pillion having the privilege of showing his entire face is capable of portraying his identity. Smile and chances are that the fine girl will smile back. Might notice you even.
Happened just the other day with me. I was happily dispatching the duties of a pillion while Kinjal sir (my colleague and one of the very few friends I have in my organization) was proudly driving his thunderbird. It so happens that this most gorgeous girl (happens to be crowned the most beautiful lady in our company) was right on our tail, riding her scooty (she calls it Dio, claims its better than a normal scooty) sometimes overtaking, sometimes getting overtaken by the sheer horsepower of the thunderbird, but more or less taking the same route as ours. But naturally, I jumped on the seat and said, I know this girl. Kinjal sir is like, “Ok, but she is following us. Maybe it’s me or my bike”. I just chuckled and said it might be me even. Promptly dismissed by Kinjal sir (so typical of the people of the first clan, never ready to spare any credit to the pillions). Being followed and chased by the girl for around fifteen minutes made our hearts beat ever so faster, although Kinjal sir were rather nonchalant about it, masking that joie de vivre with
“Oh, its happens quite too often with me” look. This overflowing cup of joy was spilled when we discovered that the fair lady was not impressed by either of us, nor was following anyone. She was just taking her normal way back home, which happens to be only a couple of blocks away from Kinjal sir’s place. Common, how did we fall for that? Girls never follow guys; they like to be chased around. They are the preys, not the predators. And all these days, how didn’t we know that she lives so close to our place. Shame on us.
Anyways, just to confirm if we (Kinjal sir and me) were noticed that last evening, I pinged the lady the next morning. And she is like “so it was u on the thunderbird yesterday”. Three cheers to all the pillions. Moral of the story: pillions are the better amongst the two clans. Oh, I forgot, Kinjal sir was wearing a helmet.
Being a compulsive pillion can also lead you to opportunities, where you get to be the second fiddler to ladies. And my oh my, what a wonderful feeling that is. It’s always a pleasure to go on a drive with a lady, and the feeling amplifies when the lady is actually driving the bike. And you sitting relaxed, your hair floating in the air, your face sporting a wide grin. And then there will be those stares from the normal public; oh, the girl is driving the bike and not the guy. What happened to all those theories of male dominance? Are the equations getting modified? Never read much into those lines, but must admit that those stares give you another kind of high. The grin gets wider. Plus, the lady’s knowledge of all the better places in the town (always pondered why and how these ladies always know of these better places, never could find the answer) and the experience gets richer. To all those pillions out there, if you haven’t experienced this, you actually have missed something.
Needless to say, I love to be a pillion. And enjoy every minute of it. Love the feeling of sun beating down on your face, winds gently stroking your cheeks, sky as your crown and the rear seat as your throne. Plus, it makes you reach your destination without actually having to spend a penny. Sounding like Scrooge McDuck, yeah sometimes I do.
Fellow pillions, remember we are the chosen ones. Long live the pillion clan; long live our companionship with rear seat.

P.S. I don’t own a bike, neither intend to own one. My life on the roads is all about borrowed ride. And yes, I am too chicken hearted to drive a two-wheeler.