His bike defined him. A cherry red Harley Davidson. 1600 cc. People heard the thump and turned around. They saw the bike and craned their necks to follow him. If there was anything the bike lacked he made up for in gear. His leather jacket. LED trim on the gaurds.
His helmet cost more than a brand new Hero Honda. Shumacher used the same brand. If it was good enough for Michael it was even better for him. The kids in the building were forbidden to touch it. No vroom vroom pretending to ride games on this bike. The watchmen cleant it, but under his supervision.
Jo Boy ? Yes the guy with the red Harley. Not Jo Boy, Mary and Franks son. Or Sandra’s brother, or the guy who worked in the Customs.
Curfews and compulsory social isolation destroyed the best laid plans of mice and men. No bike rides. Bike rides? He was lucky he could still walk up and down his road.
The kid on the second floor was a medical intern. Worked in town at Nair hospital. Bandra to Nair hospital was two bus trips and one local train trip away. One way. The trains had stopped. Too risky. Social distancing in a Mumbai compartment was .75 inches on a good day. Taxi drivers had abandoned hearth and home aka their cab to head back to UP or Bihar or Chattisgarh or wherever their long journey had brought them from.
So he loaned him his bike. What the hell, it was just sitting there.
He was pointed out now.
“That’s the guy who had loaned out his Harley.”
“29 lakh bike and he gave it to that doctor kid to get to the hospital everyday. “
A week later he even gave the kid his helmet.
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1 comment:
Awwwww... Covid collateral!
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