Jinxed!`

Circa 1996. A starry eyed, dreamy, laidback 15 yr old boy waited with bated breath for the revealing of the surprise his mother had promised him. At her call, he rushed out to the verandah, trying hard to control his excitement, to take a look at what was it that she had in store for him. The first sight of the brand new 150 cc Bajaj Chetak, glimmering in the August sunlight, was one he would never forget for it filled him with a sense of utter disappointment and despondency. As any other hormone pumping lad of his age, he had also dreamnt about owning a motorbike- the ultimate symbol of teenage male machismo. However, that was not to be as his parents were apprehensive about the perceived risks associated with bikes (still think they were wrong). Hence, he had no other option but to reconcile to his fate and start using the scooter.After the first couple of rides, his view of the scooter underwent a significant change. To his delight, he found out that it was not as bad as it looked and the ride quality was fairly decent and almost at par with that of bikes.

However, he soon realised that in quirky ways, the scooter invariably used to land him in trouble. It started with his first major ride on the buzzing city streets when he almost collided head on with an Amby, and only by an extremely panic stricken swerve, managed to steer away at the last moment. The rear view mirror got knocked off though, and the pillion rider got the shock of his life. From then on, things started going downhill. A collision with a cycle rickshaw nearly crippled the pillion's knee, and a heavy downpour nearly crippled the engine as the scooter got caught in a mud deluge.

A few years later, the young lad, all of 18, went to Pune to pursue higher education, leaving the scooter behind to be used by the driver, and occasionally, by visiting relatives. His parents were again apprehensive about the traffic situation in Pune. There, to his dismay, he found out that pubilc transort was almost negligible, save the auto-rickshaws with a penchant for daylight robbery. Therefore, after some considerable persuasion, he finally managed to convince his parents of his desperate need for the scooter, and brought it along with him to Pune. His ill fortunes, however, continued as the scooter started guzzling down a considerate amount of fuel, invariably leaving him high and dry (literally) on a lot of occassions.

The last straw came when one sunny August (coincidence??) day, the strapping lad, now 21, went rushing to the railway station to welcome his lady love, who had decided to pay him a visit from Delhi. With his head swimming in the clouds, and heart pounding, he failed to notice another similarly 'lost' biker, attempting a sharp u-turn at a potentially dangerous crossing, untill the last few seconds. Upon being tapped by the pillion rider on his shoulder, he applied the brakes immediately but the wretched machine didn't stop. Nor did the 'lost' biker. The result was one ferociuos collision, which flung all three occupants, high in the air, and on to the road. Miraculously, all three survived, spare a few cuts and bruises. The pillion, as always, came out worst as he had an ugly gnash to the side of his belly. The lad got away with only a swollen foot (not broken) and only a earful from the pillion (mercifully, no fists). The scooter's nose was smashed. Somehow, he managed to take it to the mechanic's shop, and soon got over the entire incident, once he was in the company of his girl. Thereafter, minor incidents and hiccups continued till the lad came to Delhi.

In Delhi, after dilly-dallying around for a while, he managed to get himself a decent job which was not only well paying but quite interesting too. Here again, he found he couldn't quite rely on his Basanti (monicker given by his girl). It would stop on him at trying times, and would lead to a miserable attendance record. So he decided to dump it once and for all. He got himself a brand new Yam, a machine he had always wanted. The new bike was like a dream; everything from the ride quality to the handling were huge improvements over the old coot. The young man couldn't stop raving about his new toy, and subsequently, left the scooter to rust in the parking lot.

Soon after, he bought his first car and couldn't stop raving about that too. Now, however, he was beseiged by a peculiar problem. He had three machines with him, and none of the Delhi apartment societies would allow for more than two per flat. So the young man decided to do away with his old scooter, and embarked upon finding a suitable buyer. Finding no takers, and on the insistence of his parents, he decided to send it home from where its journey had begun. As train timings didn't blend in into his hectic work schedule, he decided to avail the services of a packing company. That turned out to be another mistake as this packing company conned him out of a considerable amount of money. Also, it took them a hell lot of a time to deliver the scooter home. The man is now contemplating legal action against the packing co. but deep down he keeps wondering how jinxed the scooter has been. Now that its back to its original place, maybe it'll rest easy.

Was all this really misfortune? Is 'Basanti' really jinxed? Or is the young man to blame in some way or the other for a lot of what has happened ?

I really don't know...only time will tell, I guess.