6 days, 5 states

Since I shifted to Bhuj, it took 5 years to again get an opportunity for a bike ride not for the lack of efforts. Ok so, on this opportunity, Rafik and I decided for a four day ride which, after many devious planning sessions with greed for covering a little more distance, turned out to be a six day ride. But as great Mr. Murphy had bestowed his laws on the mortal world, Rafik got some "urgent" work two days before we were to leave and he had to cancel. You see, Newton's infallible laws may fail, but Murphy's law will always come into play. So it was me again alone on a ride.

1. Gujarat

I left on 12Oct21 at 6 am. It took me about 50 kms to get used to the new backpack. My faithful backpack of eleven years broke beyond repair few days ago. It was already frail and was living on stitches. This was the one that I bought for Rs 750/- in 2010 for my first bike trip and accompanied me for all the journeys. It was so big, I could sneak in a teenager through check points without anyone getting any smarter. Yet it was comfortable to handle. For many years, I visited almost all the local shops of Vadodara  in search of the same backpack, but in vain. One day at the central bust stop I saw the same back pack, looking very new, with a guy and asked him,

"Where did you get this bag?"

"From a shop", the oversmart guy replied.

After a courtesy fake laugh I showed him my tattered backpack and then went on to explain my pursuit for the same bag, but could not get my plight to his heart and I never came to know where he had bought it.

After crossing the Shoolpaneshwr Wildlife Sanctuary, I came across roads being repaired at some places, reducing my speed. Little did I know, this was a sign of waiting abomination.

2. Maharashtra

First rest stop for tea

And the bench the shopkeeper had

Entering Maharashtra

The road from Akkalkuva to Shirpur via Shahada was the worst road I had seen in my life. It consisted of tar patches, pits, holes, trenches and craters! There were large loaded trucks running on that road. I think there would be atleast one overturning of truck a day here. This road continued in the same condition for about 60 kms. Can you believe it? 60 kms! After Shahada, I got so irritated driving on it, I stopped at road side, got down from my bike, stood akimbo and cursed the government until I ran out of vocabulary. Then for the next 15 minutes or so I tried inventing new words for cursing, finally gave up and proceeded to take rest.

Continuing from Sahada on this gut wrenching road, I believe I started to hallucinate about the pot holes and tar patches floating around me, mocking my anguish.

Somewhere at the Gujarat-Maharashtra border

Instead of going to Dhule, from Shirpur I decided to give up on smaller internal roads and go to Indore by taking wider roads. Once I got out of Shirpur and hit the highway, there was no stopping. I just opened the throttle and shot away.

Hitting the highway after driving on the Shahada road

3. Madhya Pradesh.

Near Badi Bijasan Mata temple my bullet came in reserve and caught me off-guard. The bullet was guzzling up fuel. Looking at the area and the hills in front of me I was unsure about getting a fuel pump and even thought of returning back few kilometers to a petrol pump I saw, but after few moments of debate in my mind, I decided to move on and see what happens. I reduced my speed to economy mode. There was a petrol pump off the highway after few kilometers and fortunately I reached there before my tank dried.

On way to Indore

With 45 kms remaining for Indore, I stopped at a dhaba to have Paratha. They invariably give you unsalted daal as an accompaniment. It is unsalted to convince the customer  that the daal is not recycled from any leftovers.

Paratha with daal

Having satisfied my crave for road side dhaba food after finishing the paratha, I was content with life. When I was paying at the counter, I went on to chat with owner after seeing his photos hanging up behind him, holding a double barrell gun. I asked him whether the gun was real, to which the owner replied, "Chidimaar hai." I doubted, so I praised him "raub pad raha hai kaka aapka photo me," and that's when he opened up. See, if you appreciate people, they generally become warm to you.

He admitted the gun being real and proceeded to show me the license and a spent cartridge shell. Then he narrated few stories involving his gun, dhaba and his brothers who owned few dhabas next to him. In one of the stories, his brother got into a brawl and beat up few guys with a stick. The beaten up guys promised to return with 50 men and this dhaba owner showed them the gun and said, "Ghar per bol kar aana, aur aate mujhe nipta dena. Main bach gaya to, ek ko maarun ya dus ko, saja to wahi milni hai." The beaten up guys did not show up.

In another story the dhaba owner and his brothers beat up a bus full of tourist because they got into a brawl after one of the customers threw a glass of milk disrespectfully and said expletives to the dhaba owner. I learned that the licensee gun holder is allowed to fire below the knee in defense. In another story he warded off looters on a road. He said he did not had to lift his gun, but said me this "ek baar utha diya to chalani hai." Now this statement has a great impact on me. Why else would you lift a gun if not to fire it? This is about making decisions in general and then sticking to it.

I reached Indore at around 6:45 pm. Night fell on the way at Rau city. After customary hunting of hotels, checked into one Jagtara hotel, which is an Oyo hotel. I could see local two wheelers parked in the hotel parking at night.

After checking into the hotel, I freshened up and went to Chappan dukan. Now, this is just an old place with exactly 56 eateries in a line selling snacks ranging from simple pani-puri and ice-creams to latest fads...like twisted potato on a stick. You would find mostly youngsters there, clicking more photos than they eat food. The family guys who come there are more focused on minding their children and making sure that they eat.

56 shops, thus called chappan dukaan

At the end of 56th shop, just outside the eatery complex, there is a pan shop curiously titled Bewafa Pan Shop. There was bewafaai songs playing at the shop. The owner had bewafaai songs playing all the time, so he said. You can see the shop and menu below. Normal paan was Rs 30/- and paan for heart broken people was Rs 2/-. I had both paans.

Bewafaa paan wala

People of Indore are hardcore development and better governance supporters, or so it seems below.

Modi

I returned by 9.30 pm to he hotel and by 10 pm I was asleep.

Indore is no different than Ahmedabad or Vadodara. People here too jump signals to save few seconds of their life, putting other peoples life in danger. Also they are cunningly precise in communication when it comes to giving direction and indifferent to people who have lost their way. Like when I entered Indore, as usual I was looking for the central bus stand (you get lots of budget hotel at bus stands and railway stations) and I asked for direction, "Navlakha bus stand kahan padega?", "Wo aapke peeche reh gaya," came the crisp reply and he left it to me to figure out in which direction.

Another was "Chappan street kahan hai?", "Yahan se chale jao," was the short reply. Where to go from there was not mentioned. Poeple of Indore would give you a short and crisp reply for directions, go back to minding their own business and leave you to figure out directions and things.

Next day I woke up at 4.30 am and left the hotel by 6 am. My next stop was Bhopal. While hunting for breakfast, which I was sure to get at a sabzi mandi (APMC market), at about 7 am I came across a shop which was making samosa. Till the time it took to fry them, I had Poha and then chole-samose in the morning at 7 am. Wow! Getting samosa at 7 am!! In Vadodara you won't get samosa type snacks until 9 am. The restaurant owner introduced me to Jirawan masala. It is a chaat-masala unique to the region of Malwa and Bundelkhand in central India, normally sprinkled on poha, but can be sprinkled on pretty much anything, limited only by your imagination. I bought 500 gm from a local shop and insisted on Panchal brand only as suggested by the samosa wala. It is very tasty and part of my life now.

Coming out of Indore, I asked direction for Bhopal to two persons standing near a truck. One of them was an old man, probably in his 70s, wearing a baniyan over pajama. When he spoke only 3 of this teeth were visible. When I asked for direction, he hurried to other side of the truck shouting "A Hussain, a Hussain", reached on the top of truck and poked a guy sleeping there, still calling on the top of his voice, "A Hussain, Hussain". And thus woke up Mr. Hussain throwing away his blanket and rubbing his eyes. He took a few seconds to come to his senses, understand what the three toothed guy was saying and then showed me the way to Bhopal. As I believe, Indians are under divine obligation when asked for directions. The three toothed man and Hussain proved it.

Indore to Bhopal

Indore to Bhopal

Road from Indore to Bhopal is pretty straight and I even did 50 km in 30 minutes at some streches. While on way to Bhopal, I met one Mr. Rohit Ghosh at a dhaba who suggested me to go to Pachmarhi instead as it is a hill station. So I decided to go there. At Barelli, I missed a trun and rode 35 km in the wrong direction, which I realised after I looked at the map while having samosa at yet another restaurant. Now going back would mean riding around 110 km, and I would have reached Pachmarhi at 7.30 pm, leaving no time to explore it. So I decided to continue in the wrong direction and went to Sagar. That's the convenience of travelling alone, there is not one to nudge or coax you and you can pretty much go anywhere you desire or want to.

To Sagar

Some off-roading on the way to Sagar

To Sagar

Just before Searmau, helped a guy with his bike who was pushing his bike ona ghat slope upwards. I first tried to push his bike with my leg but could not due to the upwards slope, so I tied my elastic spider rope to his bike to pull his bike till the rope broke. Finally, I relented and gave him some petrol and he cheerfully rode to his home in Searmau. Night fell there. I did troll a car till Sagar so it was easy to drive in night. The perils of driving in night like insects smashing on your helmet visor or sudden appearance of a buffalo looking indifferently at your approaching vehicle was greatly reduced.

I reached Sagar at about 8.30 pm, checked into a hotel and asked the owner for a local restaurant to have dinner. To get the best, you have to invoke the pride of locals. As always, I asked, "Koi aisi local jagah bataiye ki jaakar logon se kahun, Sagar me khana khaya". And then the hotel owner sent me a very interesting Chaubey Bhojanalay. The place is a riot.

Lots of people try to get in and eat here. The menu has only about 6 items. Simple sabji-roti and rice-dal. In a cramped down place, the owner would seat impossible number of people. And then be able to serve everyone!! The owner had a hard time resisting his customers from coming in. And he had to forcefully down the shutter every night at 10.30 pm sending back lots of his patrons hungry.

The owner Chaubeyji is a second generation entrepreneur, the restaurant was started by his father. Chaubeyji would be there just in his shirt and half pants the whole time. He probably went to full pants in winters. In front of me, on the same table sat a very talkative friend of Chaubeyji and he revealed many things about the restaurant to me including the owners struggle every day about over crowded restaurant.

So many people cramped in a small place at Chaubey Bhojnalaya

The guy on the extreme left is Chaubeyji, the guy next to him in striped shirt is his very talkative friend

People waiting for their turn

Had a tasty and satisfying dinner there. It is a place that one must visit when in Sagar. The most local thing you can get there. Now, there is nothing much to do in Sagar after 10 pm for a solo traveler like me so came back to hotel and slept.

I left Sagar next day at 6.30 am for Gwalior but after few hours of riding, decided to go to Sawai Madhopur at it was near and I thought I would need rest.

4. Uttar Pradesh.

I entered Uttar Pradesh and went to Lalitpur just for the sake of covering one more state on my trip. 

Uttar Pradesh

From there I crossed the border back into Madhya Pradesh via Rajghat dam.

Rajghat Dam

Betwa River

This is built on Betwa river and half the dam lies in UP and the other half in MP. As soon as I entered MP, I stopped at a small tea stall. There I got a decent tasting tea that I had since morning. In appreciation of the taste I said to the owner, "Chai achi hai".

Without missing a beat, the owner replied "kharab to main koi cheez banata hi nahin," and then turned to his friend sitting nearby and asked, "Kyun? koi kharab cheez kabhi banata hun main?". His friend just shook his head.

There was a government liqour shop next to the tea stall with an important notice as you can see below. The goverment is more worried about your drinking spurious liquor than getting your life destroyed by the original one.

See, the government cares for you

On the way to Shivpuri

On the way to Shivpuri

My bullet had started to leak oil from shock absorbers, thanks to the cursed road in Shahada. I reached Shivpuri by afternoon and decided to  get my bullet repaired. It took around one and half hours to repair my bullet. Had lassi at a shop Bansi Lassi in Shivpuri and also brought back the lassi kulhad with me. Lassi was 30 Rs/-.

Getting my bullet repaired

After crossing Kuno wildlife sanctuary, I reached Sheopur. There at the bypass road met a person who had modified his Bajaj bike's silencer to look like a tractors silencer and for loud noise. There is special place in heaven for such people.

Modified silencer

Night fell in Sheopur.

5. Rajasthan

Enter Rajasthan

The last stretch of road to Sawai Madhopur passes within Ranthambhore National Park. As I entered it, the temperature dropped drastically and I started to shiver after a few minutes of ride. I reached Sawai Madhopur at around 8 pm, hunted for a hotel for another half hour. After checking into one of the hotels and freshening up, I went to have dinner but could not find a decent local restaurant so ended up having poori-sabji at a road side eatery near railway station.

I left Sawai Madhopur at 7.30 am for Jodhpur. At a dhaba in Tonk I met one Mr. Tariq Anwar, who goes by nickname of Lala and is tour operator, specially  catering to foreigners. He did biking in his early days so was interested in my ride. He sat there with two of his friends, had a chat with me and suggested to visit Pushkar. Carried away with his description of Pushkar I decided to go there first and then to Jodhpur. On my way to Pushkar, a little away from Tonk, I came across a place called Hathi Bhata. Bhata means stone. It is an ASI protected monument. It is so protected that the gate was locked but broken enough to let the locals get in there, have a bath at a small pool inside the monument and also allow people like me to hop in there with a heavy backpack still on my back.

Hathi Bhata

Hathi Bhata

ASI gate

By the time I reached Ajmer, I decided to spend the night in Pushkar and have rest. I reached Pushkar by 4.30 pm.

Pushkar is known to have the only Brahmaji's temple in world, though I have heard that there is Brahmaji's temple somewhere else in India itself. Checked into a nice hotel with AC room as I wanted to have rest. Had one hour of sleep and then went to roam the markets of Pushkar. First I decided to explore the market on foot, but the pain in my right ankle did not allow me to walk for long. I had this pain for over a year and lately it had got so severe that I could not walk for even 100 m before it would  start overcoming all my other senses and become unbearable. Later the way I got rid of the pain is so simple, it is almost ridiculous and related to my sleeping style which goes like this.

Once I  bought a new memory foam pillow from DMart as the pillow I have been using was reduced to half of its thickness. Reaching home I just threw the new pillow on the old pillow so the overall height of pillows increased. Now with raised head while sleeping that night, it was very convenient to watch a movie in mobile. So I started using two pillows, unaware of the woe that was about to enter  my life and make it miserable.

The pain started to develop in my right ankle. Why did it appeared only in my right ankle, I could not make out, but I believe it to be related to an injury I sustained in college days when I jumped from my hostel terrace to a floor below, in the year 2002 or probably in 2003. I had a swollen right ankle for over a week then.

Coming back to my two pillows, the time for onset of pain reduced and it increased in intensity over time. So, earlier the pain would start after may be like a kilometer of walk and over time the distance reduced to like one hundred meters. I had to sit frequently and even doing that would not satisfy the monster residing inside my ankle, but at least the pain would not increase. Lately even when sitting in bus while travelling to work, I would be highly discomforted and would spend the whole time moving my leg in different positions, contorting it to awkward positions to let the pain subside. There would be few seconds of relief at all.

With unbearable pain, I started thinking about  things like karma and past birth, pondering over the reasons God would be punishing me. I would imagine doing horrible things in my past birth. Maybe I  was a serial leg breaker or a professional torturer, or probably I ran over few ill-fated persons leg, who knows? I was contemplating going to a physiotherapist and started enquiring, all time thinking of my bank balance.

One lucky day while sitting in the bus, trying to contort my leg to reduce the pain, I gave up in despair, exhaled a painful breath and threw my head back to rest on the seat headrest. The headrest was lower than my head I had to tilt my head backwards thus bending the back of neck. And behold that moment! The pain disappeared immediately. I straightened my head and the  pain came back roaring. After few repeated movements, I realised that keeping my head tilted back, bent it from the neck backwards, would make the pain disappear. I travelled for few days like this in the bus before realizing that two pillows that I used kept my neck in forward bended position while sleeping. So I removed the old pillow and in a week the pain went away. I felt like I got a new ankle. You see, the most complicated of problems have the simplest of solutions.

So back to Pushkar. After bearing the pain for some time, I came back to hotel and took my bullet. To my delight, I discovered that malpua is Pushkar's speciality. I had only heard of this sweet but never tasted it. Previously that day I had samosa on the way and it kind of upset my stomach. So I just took tiny piece of malpua from a shopkeeper to taste. Then I bought 1.5 kg of it. The shopkeeper, while doing all his work of packing, weighing and doing outer packing told me: the malpuas were made in ghee and need not be kept in fridge; when you want to eat it, just warm it in microwave; the malpuas once packed would last for a week. He did this all without looking at me except when taking money. I repeated the same words in the same tone to my wife and to one other person with whom I shared malpuas when I got home.

After roaming Pushkar for about and hour, I came back to my hotel and went to sleep. Waking up late next day, visited Brahmaji's temple and then went to a small desert just outside of Pushkar. There was a marriage photoshoot going on with the couple driving an open Thar and shot by a drone. Then there were few more poses they did. I sat there in desert enjoying the photo shoot. There are few Thars on rent available which you can take to ride in the miniscule desert, take it up small mounds and supposedly feel the adrenaline rush. And of course, there are camel rides.

Mini desert outside Pushkar

The photoshoot

There came two people with a small musical instrument, sort of a violin and offered to play some music for me, which I denied. I was in no mood to part with my money for some music. Instead, I started chatting with them. I enquired them about their jooti, which they said is avaiable in a village called Pisangan and even offered me to send someone to buy it for me. I wondered whether he was serious. I said I would rather go myself and buy it. Then I asked whether I can go to Chittorgarh from there and one of the noble person explained me the way to get there.

I left Pushkar at 10.30 am for Pisangan. Just after few kilometers I stopped at a small tea stall. There I met an old man, dressed in white kurta and dhoti, who striked up conversation with me by asking about my trip and then went on to boast about how there are no thieves in their village. I seemed a little odd to hear that subject brought up from nowhere. I found my left hand clutching my bag and the goggles going back to my pocket which were lying on the table next me till then. He also spoke about horses. The man then offered me to come with him to his house, have lunch with sour buttermilk, and to take some of his farms sugarcane with me, both of which I denied. There were no thieves in the village. When the old man got onto his bike to leave, I realised he has been drunk.

When I reached Pisangan, I did not buy any jooti from there, because I was not inclined to go into the village and ride on more bad roads. Since I left Pushkar and till I reached Beawar, the roads were all broken and dusty. These are the roads that God created to punish us. I thought may be it was to take our sins away. Somewhere at a tea stop between Pushkar and Beawar, I saw a temple where the deity is offered alcohol and that make it two temples with this offering the other one being very famous Kaal Bhairavji's temple in Ujjain.

Coming out from Beawar I looked about and found a person walking nearby. Upon enquiring him about the way to Chittorgarh, he suggested me two roads and recommended taking the first one as on the second one construction work was going on. I missed the first road. I could have returned back but decided to take the second road suggested thinking if there is a construction going on, it would be only for few stretches of the road. Oh, how wrong was I! As fate would have it, the whole road from Beawar to Bhilwara was under construction, that is about 100 km. Mr. Gadkari was on fill swing. You could drive only one side of the road, either left of right depending on which part was under construction. And the side on which vehicle movement was allowed was only surfaced with grit. The tar was yet to be poured. I rode 100 km in white dust!

My clutch wire broke while riding, at a place called Mod ka Nimbahera and coincidentally it did just as I passed a two wheeler garage. I got unlucky and lucky both at the same time. I tried to put the bullet on main stand to start the replacement of clutch wire with the spare I was carrying but the main stand lever gave away so I had to put it on the side stand to do the replacement. To my dismay I realized that the spanners were buried deep in the saddle bags. Getting those meant unpacking there on the road side. So I took a spanner set from the two wheeler workshop and changed the clutch wire. Doing clutch wire replacement with bullet on the side stand is slightly tedious than on the main stand. And there was no welding shop nearby so could not get the main stand lever repaired.

Anyways, after replacing the clutch wire, I rode away and reached Bhilwara.

The road from Bhilwara to Chittorgarh was a dream. It was part of the Golden Quadrilateral highway in perfect condition. My speedometer needle hovered between 80-100 km/hr on that road, occasionally touching 110 km/hr when I was riding down a flyover slope. There is a Hindustan Zinc plant when you enter Chittorgarh. Silver is one of the metals that is recovered as byproduct when recovering zinc from its ore.

After checking into a small hotel, I went on to explore Chittorgarh fort. Night had fell and the victory tower was closed. However, the fort being a living fort, like the Jaisalmer fort, the gates were open. The families were taking a stroll in the fort after dinner. There was a open courtyard like place at the edge of the fort form where you can see the Chittorgarh city and it was colourful in the night.

Victory tower

Colourful Chittorgarh

Coming down from the fort, went to have daal-baati. The waiter explained the contents before I ordered the thaali and when he mentioned "khaati chaas", i.e. sour butter milk, I remembered the conversation I had with an old guy in Pushkar who offered me to come to his house and have sour buttermilk among other things. I think people in this part of country prefer sour buttermilk over plain which is in contrast as compared to people in parts of Gujarat where people avoid sour buttermilk. I personally like it sour. It has a tangy flavour to it.

Daal baati with sour buttermilk

Finishing all the food means I did overeating. I sat outside the restaurant to a while till the uneasiness of overeating subsided. I rode back, skidding to a stop at a restaurant near my hotel where people were eating pani-puri at 10 pm. These people are the best of the lot, god created them with impunity. And the part that caused me to stop suddenly was smell of the jalebis. A content guy at the restaurant was making jalebi, which I could not resist, even after overeating at the dinner.

Next morning, I went to have breakfast and to my delight I found that the restaurant was making jalebis aagain in the morning. It was about 7.30 am. God bless the owner. We should have more restaurants like this. Just opposite my hotel was another restaurant where I had samosa after coming back with tummy half filled with jalebi amd poha. This restaurant had pictures of Ravan hanging on the wall and when I asked, the owner explained that they were worshippers of Ravan. I was taken aback. On asking about whether they were only ones, the said there were few more in the city. Dussehra was celebrated just few days ago and I was imagining his plight on the day of Dussehra. Nevertheless, I left him to his situation and went back to hotel to pack and leave.

Now the road from Chittorgarh to Udaipur is a wide highway with a very small stretch just at the outskirts of Udaipur, which seems like it is under perennial construction.

Before we ride ahead let me divulge you a very important information.

As you ride enter Udaipur from the direction of Chittorgarh, without wavering, go straight till you reach a pseudo dead end. This is Suraj Pol. At Suraj Pol you will find an old restaurant named Santosh Dining Hall. There are other restaurants around with the similar names but don't fall for it. By look and feel, you will realize the right one. It is old and very local with rustic seating arrangements. If still you are unsure, below is a picture. Towards left of centre, in very light yellow colour is the structure called Suraj Pol. Towards right of picture, next to the white car, you can see the restaurant I mentioned. Eat Daal Baati there. Period.

Going towards Vadodara, at a dhaba where I rested to have some tea, I saw a little commotion. A man was surrounded by some people and they were trying to pacify him. Some people in another group were shouting. I came to know that the man being pacified was driver of the bus that was parked outside the dhaba and he was refusing to take the bus any further because his owner did not transferred him the money to fill the diesel. Finally the passengers contributed and collected money for diesel with the hope that they will get it back when they reach their destination. God knows what happened to their money.

The stalled bus

I reached back Vadodara by 5.30 pm doing 450 odd kms, thanks to the fantastic highway.

Trip route