My Life

It's a 1995 standard Bullet, black in colour, parked on the shoulder.
There is a helmet hung on to the right rear view mirror - another helmet rests on the carrier at the rear.
There is a bag kept near the bike, propped up against the rear wheel.
It's a hot day - not hot enough to be uncomfortable, but sunny nonetheless.
There is a slight wind at the back, and an azure sky stretching out over the horizon. Clouds dot the panaroma, some grey, mostly white.
There is no traffic on the road, either on this side or the other.
The bike is parked in the middle of nowhere - miles to go before I reach, and miles away from where I started.
There is a coconut seller on the side of the road, which is why the bike is parked there - we're taking a break.
Soon, she'll be kick started, and she'll answer with a roar that'll settle into a steady thump.
The miles that separate me from my destination will be eaten up, and there she'll stay in repose until she's kick started again.
But for now, there's miles to go, and there's many miles been travelled.
She's at home right now.
The Bullet is on the road.
:-)
And I wish I was too.