IL CORVO

Contrary to what it seems like, the pigeon is not my favourite bird. I was gleefully fascinated by its ways in Europe and more particularly so in London, but that wasn't enough for usurping the top position which was, is and will always be occupied by the crow (the common raven). So, there wasn't an iota of doubt as to what I would name the second beast in my life (the first one being Adolf).


'IL CORVO'


Well, getting it wasn't exactly the easiest of things. If there was one thing, my mom would never let me have, it was this. Convincing her that I wasn't going to get killed by the 'monster' was awfully difficult and is arguably my greatest achievement ever. It is amazing what time and pressure can do. And a whole lot of cribbing, of course. This entire episode has given me so much confidence that I now feel that I can even convince the British to stop employing the word 'royal'. (I would never do that, of course. All I am saying is that, I beleive I could do so, if i wanted to).


Everyone I have spoken to regarding it, have tried to reason with me and appeal to my rationality. And when I didn't change my stance, the conversations typically ended with me being labelled, senseless and/or crazy. (A certain few were too polite and called me brave instead). If there ever was one thing for which I was unwilling to listen to absolutely anyone, it was this. Like they say, I was as 'obstinate as a mule'.


Taking a slightly different approach, Praveen made me feel inadequate to have the 'monster'. He said, one had to be bulky, wear white 'khaddar' clothes and be adorned with thick gold chains, bracelets and the like to deserve it. I appreciated his humour, but there was no way, I was appreciating his point of view.


So, as I paced around in the hall restlessly, the phone rang and this time it wasn't a friend who just called up to say 'What's up?'. As I went down the lift, all the trouble I had gone through over the past few weeks to have it, flashed in my mind. The endless hours of dreaming, arguing, defending, selling and convincing had finally borne fruit and here was I asking myself,
'IS IT WORTH IT?'.


At 21:01 on the 24th of September 2009, I laid my eyes on it for the first time. It was darker than the night. As deadly as sin. Royal and regal.
I brought it to life. 'Thump..Thump..Thump..Thump..Thump..'


TOTALLY.


Anyway, whatever.


I usually end my posts with the 'Anyway, whatever' or ta da (or some other version of it). Since the 'Anyway, whatever' is done with, the reader can put himself or herself out of his or her misery at this point, by navigating away from this post and doing something else or something better. (Anything would be better than reading this rubbish, so essentially there is no difference between 'something else' and 'something better').


But in case, you have read up to this point, you might as well read the next few sentences and waste a little more of your time.


As a certain someone asked me, "Why did you get a bike? You don't even know how to ride it?".
I replied,
" It doesn't matter that I don't know how to ride.
And for the sake of everything under the sun, it is not a bike.
It is a motorcycle. It is a Bullet. It is a Royal Enfield Bullet Electra 5S.
It is. My 'IL CORVO'. "