Jaipur and its motoring Janta

If ‘Pulsarasm’ like orgasm­ - was a word in a dictionary, it surely would have meant ‘a state of mind where one strongly believes that anything in name of Splendor, Passion and Glamour is a mirage, a non-entity’. Sad that the word does not exist, it’s gladdening that the state of mind definitely does for some. You’ll find a thousand youngsters vrooming around in Jaipur streets, having defied their father’s insistence to go for a 100cc trundler and opting for a proper bike. People riding econo-misers are either uncles with punctured mouths having a set of dentures to puff things up, or they are the modern day 'Forrest Gumps' whose mom told them that ‘Life is like a Hero Honda CD 100, you should never expect anything above 80 Kmph or anything less that 70 Kmpl until you die’.

This common bunch of mortals also includes the relatively prosperous farmers belonging to rural areas around Jaipur who still don’t have a clue about what the word ‘motorcycle’ means. They simply want a ‘Hero Honda’ as a dowry-item for their son’s marriage. One must pay a visit to this small village called Bassi near Jaipur, where every bike is called Hero Honda irrespective of its make or size, and booking a Hero Honda on the engagement eve is simple indispensable.

Jokes apart, every bike has its own set of virtues and vices, but the youth of Jaipur has a great penchant for speed and power and bikes like the Pulsar have been instrumental in providing them with the required arsenal. However, I feel sorry for these youngsters who’re muddled in their mind as to what to do with this newfound passion of theirs. There’s nothing much on offer for the enthusiasts in the cty except some sidey biking clubs. All they do therefore is to twitch their way dangerously through the traffic at high speeds, or race around big round-abouts like the Statue Circle to land their own as well as other commuters’ life in serious jeopardy. An over-spirited exhibition of not-so-honed skills therefore often results in broken legs and busted heads.

Interestingly, helmets are a compulsion in Jaipur. However, young revolutionaries with pretty faces and bulging biceps have declared a war on the unjust governance which’s told them to put their lids on whenever they ride. They have transformed themselves into a band of outlaws who are on a mission against this barbaric government that has deprived them of showing their beautiful faces to the fairer sex. They don’t mind treading narrow, crowded, stinky and potholed streets, or hiding behind smoke spewing trucks and buses, or halting 200 meters before the red traffic light to beat the vigilant cops, but helmet is not to be worn. End of discussion. Shelling out a couple of hundred bucks to the policewallah or a trip to the local court is a price too low they pay to celebrate their freedom.

The streets in the city are well levelled and neatly finished. There isn’t much for the hardcore throttle-basher who likes to bend it like Rossi, but just step your foot out of the urban jungle and you come across a sidewinder of a snake in tarmac. Leave for New Delhi without taking the bypass and take the first left as soon as you start your ascent in the Amber valley. What you’ll come across is what we Jaipurites call ‘Motorcycling Nirvana’, a poem written in coal tar, sheer bliss for the two-wheeled petrol head.

The road to Nahargarh Fort

Start devouring this 9 km long feast and once you’re done, you are sure to be baffled for a couple of days about what was more fun - getting up, or rolling down. Riding an RD350, or Karizma or a Pulsar 180 on these yummy switchbacks is perhaps the most ecstatic experience that a middle-class motorhead may ever have. One needs to be born and brought up in the city to know what it feels like being with your friends on Nahargarh on a rainy day, with a bottle or two of beer. Jalmahal, the old palace surrounded by a beautiful lake, now reduced to rubbles, sets the picture right in the distance for you to savour the spirits in the best of err - spirits.

The JalMahal Palace

Though average performance bikes like Pulsars, Karizmas and Fieros are visible aplenty on city streets, absence of other big and classy bikes of global repute often leads to a sore heart. I still remember the chaos that ensued when the Yamaha Drag Star was launched in India and was put on display at one of the company’s showrooms. People wanted to get inside the showroom and have look at the bike, no matter whether there was space inside or not. For the week that the bike was on display, the staff at the showroom talked to thousands of ‘prospective customers’ who were interested in and admired the beautiful bike. The company, however didn’t manage to sell even a single machine. No wonder, I haven’t been able to spot anything worth description except a Honda CBR 1000 Fireblade, a couple of RD350s, some old BSAs, and a Harley Davidson Fatboy for the 22 years I have spent in the city. Sometimes, you may also come across the ‘Saahas’ guys riding their dirt bikes on road, but more or less, this is all the spectacular stuff that you get to see on two wheels.

Humdrum though, is not the only word that describes motoring in Jaipur. The moment your focus turns to four wheels from two, the state of affairs changes drastically. X -series or 7-series Beemers, Porsche 911 or Cayenne, S-class Mercs or astonishing Astons of yore - you name it and there’s a good chance that you might spot it. Once it gets late in the night and the cream of the city populace pours on to the city streets, it's time for all the car aficionados to draw their binoculars out and get ready. The stars from the sky step down to grace the roads in their respective exotics so as to tickle their taste buds at the famous paan-joints of the conurbation. You could have a look at these beauties which otherwise are seen in motion only on TV or in car flicks. You may pose against them or perhaps even touch them if the owner doesn’t have a problem. Besides, don’t be too surprised if you spot one of the paanwalas stepping out from one of those exotics. Known for having varieties of paans that may cost as much as a thousand bucks apiece, these Paan shop owners are no less opulent than their customers.

Talk about cars, and the city doesn’t stutter behind anywhere. Several times in the year, the rich collection of city’s vintage and classic cars is exhibited to present a grand salute to the old times. From Studebakers to Buicks to the grand old grannies of modern day Mercs, you’ll find most of those gracefully aged beauties that you ever wanted to see. All of them in an immaculate state of being. And when these cars line up to pose against historical monuments like the Albert hall museum, the hearts of people like me start pounding with pride and respect for this royal, classic, opulent and yet so humble city called Jaipur.


The Albert Hall Museum