I was in Goa, a couple of weekends ago – with Mahendra. As one thing led to another, we talked of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (ZAMM). That is one book I never bought. I inherited it – one amongst a treasure that was bequeathed to me; one that I cherish. I did buy Mr. Prisig’s other book – Lila – and read it – even. So, while we were talking of ZAMM, I was at loss in the conversation.
Elements of that conversation made me want to access the treasure that was bestowed; and I picked up the book as soon as I returned. The book has more personal meaning for me, than its content. As I moved through the pages, I realised that I had started reading it long ago. And it struck me, why I had never crossed the first few pages. While the book isn’t about motorcycles, as such – it did make a case against cars. It was a strong statement – about the joy of travelling in a car vis-à-vis a motorcycle.
Then, and now.
The last three years have been beautiful with her. Today is her birthday. We have been on many adventures together. Most of them have been pleasant and enjoyable; some risky and dangerous, even. Many friends and acquaintances have come and gone and we have been places. Some chose to look out the window; some chose to sleep all through. We have been on mountains and along the sea. We have been on the best roads and – believe me – worst roads. Mostly, I have been with my angel and my artist friend – and we have painted wonderful pictures using thoughts, ideas, and experiences for palettes, brushes, and paint.
I do not have a specific memory of every inch on the road with her; I have a collective memory, though, of my experiences and my dreams becoming real. And she has helped me — see. In a way that I could never have, otherwise.
The road is a lover
You never recover
Not now or any time soon
My head starts to spin
When I think where I’ve been
Playin’ twin to an old fiddle tune, oh
As the wind chases after the moon
Through the kindness
Shown me that day
I gave him this melody
And we sang in duet
`Neath the stars in the sky
And the shadows of dancing trees
~ The Road Is A Lover; Alison Krauss & Union Station
She has opened my eyes to the world. And, now, she is all mine!